Malice Times Page 17

  I wanted to march up to that door, swing it open and catch whoever it was in the act, but seeing that people were dropping dead left and right, I decided that wasn’t my best course of action. So, I sat in the stairwell waiting and waiting. Thoughts raced through my mind about Brad Graber and Tom Watkins and Bruce Drake and Don Webb, also known as Brian Prater. I thought about two casino owners in Las Vegas by the names of Buddy Costello and Dutch Gordon. Death and destruction surrounded them. There was clearly a great hatred between the two. Now, they were both dead. That kind of malice spills over and infects everyone around them.

  I heard a door open and soft footsteps coming down the hallway towards the elevator. As the footsteps walked past and stopped, I slowly opened the door and peeked through the crack. It didn’t make any sense. The small sound I made echoed in my head like a great bell. Before she walked into the elevator, I clearly saw Elizabeth Pray standing there.

  28

  The article was printed the following morning. I sat in my office. The night before had hit me like a tidal wave. I hadn’t said anything to Elizabeth when I got to the paper that morning. I ran through any and all explanations of what she was doing at Daniel Miles’ apartment last night. She had gained entry, so she had a key. Perhaps they were involved romantically and she was going there to retrieve some items. That explained almost everything except for the fact that I found nothing in that apartment that suggested Daniel was involved with anyone. Of course, I hadn’t been looking.

  I expected my father to be first in line. The line, however, started with Rae Dempsey. I figured she just wanted to discuss the renovations. When I had walked in that morning, I saw the finished work. She decided to start outside and had painted the entire exterior. Across the top of the building were the words, in bright green, Malice Times. I joked about it with one of the painters. It sounded like a state of mind more than a newspaper. He asked if I wanted it changed. No one had a sense of humor anymore. Glass replaced the old steel warehouse doors. A new heavy-duty rug sat in the entryway.

  Neatly tucked under Rae's slender arm was a copy of The Malice Times. She looked like a woman who had just been called something very nasty. She laid the paper down flat on my desk. The words MURDERS LINKED! stared up at me. I couldn't help smiling a little, but Rae obviously didn’t share my jovial mood.

  "What the hell is this?"

  I looked down at the paper and stared back up at her. She paced around the office, straightening things. "It looks very much like this morning’s edition of The Malice Times."

  The scene was precious. The kind of moment you remember when you're ninety and bedridden. Rae paced back and forth from one corner to the next. She stopped near the cuckoo clock and stared at it. I watched her intently.

  "I know that, Joe, and thank you very much," she said and turned towards me. The nasty look had disappeared from her face and was replaced with the look of a wounded animal. "But Tom is guilty. Leave it alone for me, please."

  I didn't like what was happening. She must have thought me the stupidest man alive. I sat back in my chair and put my feet up on the desk.

  "You know, it's nice to know who you can count on. I was afraid I wouldn't have any supporters, but now that I've seen you I can see that I need not worry."

  "But this is all a lie," Rae said holding the paper up again.

  "You make me sick," I said. It caught her so much off guard that she rocked on her feet, stumbled toward the chair and fell back into the comfortable new armchair on the opposite side of the desk. "What kind of sick sadistic, sorry excuse for a human being are you? My brother is dead, and your father is framing Watkins for it. If he's guilty, I'll find out."

  "That's not true," she said. "My dad didn't kill him."

  "I meant Watkins, but if your father is guilty, I'll bury him just as well. Believe that. You go back to that pimp you call daddy and tell him that if he thinks he can control me through his daughter, he is sadly mistaken."

  Rae stood up quickly tears growing in the corners of her eyes. "I can't believe I thought I was still in love with you. I can’t believe I slept with you."

  "You didn't sleep with me. You had sex with me, then you went off and told daddy all about it. I think we both know what that makes you. I only wished I could have heard what you told him instead of just seeing it. Did you tell him everything? Did he ask for details?"

  "So, it was you. You climbed the tree and spied on me. I can't believe you did that."

  "I guess you’ll want these back?" I asked dangling her keys. The tears were streaming down her face now.

  "I loved you," Rae said. "I really thought we could get it all back.”

  "You never wanted me back. You were just protecting your father. I understand that, but you have to remember something, someone murdered my brother, and when I find that person, even if it turns out to be you, I'm going to destroy them."

  “You don’t know nearly half of what you think you do, Joey. If you’re applying the same kind of logic to your murder investigation as to what you saw that night, I guess you’re going to be here for a very, very long time. That night was very special to me. It never occurred to you, did it, that I went to tell my father to leave you alone? That I loved you and that I wanted to try and make a life with you? That never crossed your mind, did it? Did it? Your mind went straight to some sick, perverted explanation, because deep down, you don’t want to love me, you want to hate me, because it would make it so much easier for you.”

  Rae snatched her keys out of my hand, turned and ran out of my office almost knocking Elizabeth over. Elizabeth turned and watched her retreat into the distance. After I heard the door of the outer office slam, she turned toward me.

  "What did you say to her?" Elizabeth asked.

  "I thought the truth, but I think I may have made a huge mistake."

  I took my feet off the desk. Elizabeth walked forward and crashed into the chair. She looked haggard and worn. Her clothes were wrinkled and her hair fell around her shoulders in a heap.

  "What can I do for you?" I asked.

  "Answer me this," she said leaning forward. "What did we start? You wouldn't believe the phone calls."

  "Oh, we just stuck our collective hands into the hornets’ nest and shook it up a little."

  "Was that wise? I mean after Daniel.”

  I tried to read her face when she used the name Daniel. There was something there, but I couldn’t figure out what. "Only if you know how not to get stung.”

  "Do you know how?"

  "No," I said. "I’m making this up as I go."

  She sat back in her chair and sighed long and deep. Her eyes closed and I noticed that she was a truly beautiful woman. I shook the thought off, because she had a little secret I needed to expose, but this wasn't the time or the place. This would take finesse not force.

  "How would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" I asked.

  That opened her eyes quicker than a gunshot.

  "What?"

  "Dinner, tonight, me and you?"

  "Like a date?" Elizabeth asked, confusion etched across her face.

  "I believe that's what I'm asking.”

  "I don't know," she said and shifted in her chair. She was uncomfortable with the proposition. Maybe because her boyfriend recently died. "I've never dated my boss before."

  The opening was too good to pass up. "Haven’t you? Interesting. What have you dated before?"

  She seemed flustered for a moment, but recovered quickly. "Well, a little of everything I suppose, but you'd be my first boss."

  "That's reassuring," I said. "How about I pick you up at eight?"

  “And Rae Dempsey?” she asked.

  “If you hadn’t realized, Ms. Dempsey and I are no longer considering a relationship.”

  "Eight o’clock sounds good to me," she said and stood up. She left, closing the door behind her. I knew she was just running away from the follow up questions. I wish I knew what the follow up questions she was running away from w
ere. That would make everything so much easier.

  Fifteen minutes later someone showed up that I didn't expect. Regina buzzed me from the outer office and told me that Tom Watkins was here to see me. I was astonished. I figured Archer would hold him longer than that. A few moments later Regina ushered in the moose. He rambled into the room and stood in front of the desk. His fist came down like two tons of bricks on top of the desk. I thought for sure that the desk would break.

  "They released you already?” I asked.

  "I guess he accepted my alibi,” he said. “Although, your edition this morning didn’t hurt either.”

  "You give me too much credit."

  “I’m not sure I like some of the connections you made, but you certainly made a lot of them. Not that any of them are true. Just throwing mud against the wall to see what sticks.”

  He wasn’t as dumb as he looked. He turned, saw the new chair, ambled over to it and lowered his immense body into it as gently as a butterfly.

  "I'm so tired," he said.

  "I need some answers."

  "Well?" He asked impatiently. “I owe you at least a little bit.”

  "Tell me about your relationship with Lynda."

  "Nothing to tell there," he said. "Ditched me for Dempsey. She always had high ambitions."

  “Women. Although, you seem to have a good one in Dulcy Baxter. It isn’t everyone that is willing to give a false alibi. She’s a keeper.”

  “It isn’t a false alibi.”

  “Tell me about the day Brad Graber was murdered.”

  “He ran off with Celia Archer.”

  “You want to try again?”

  He eyed me up. He sucked in his lower lip and ran his tongue across it before biting down. “I told you to leave that alone.”

  “I hear you were in town that day. I also hear that you were effectively traded for Brad. How did Lynda like that?”

  “Who the hell told you that?” he asked.

  “My father. He told me everything that he knew about that night.”

  “And you believed him. And people think I’m stupid.”

  “So why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  “Not much too tell. I was in town on business for Mr. Regan.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “The illegal kind.”

  I let that one go. “And you were at the Marchello house for the big party.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see Brad or Celia there?”

  “I saw Celia Archer. Your mom pointed them out to us. I had never met Graber before, but I don’t think he was there.”

  “But you saw Celia?”

  “Yeah, she was having an argument with her old man. Pretty heated, too. Although, she was doing most of the talking. He could barely stand up he was so drunk.”

  “Did you see my brother?”

  “I don’t think so. I had never seen your brother before either. If I saw him, I don’t remember.”

  “So, you stayed for the fireworks?”

  “Yeah, sure. Lynda likes fireworks. They just give me a pain the neck.”

  “And you left after the fireworks were over or did you stick around?”

  “We left right afterwards.”

  “You think Dempsey killed Michael?” I asked.

  "Why not?”

  “Why would Dempsey kill Michael?”

  “The same reason everyone else in this town would kill him. Your little brother was blackmailing everyone.”

  “Including you?”

  “Why not,” he said.

  “But you weren’t paying anymore,” I said.

  “No. In fact, he was going to pay me back.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He was going to give me all the money that he had taken from me back.”

  “He was trying to make things right,” I said.

  “It would seem so.”

  Tom didn't even wave. He got up and walked towards the door. All of a sudden, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared to his right intently for the longest time. I stood and walked over behind him. Then he shook his head, turned, looked at me and smiled. I smiled back and he walked out of the office without saying a word.

  Once outside my office, Tom stopped again and looked over in the direction of Elizabeth. She was bending over someone's shoulder and her breasts were visibly hanging within the confines of her white cotton bra. Tom looked over his shoulder at me and cleared his throat. I raised an eyebrow. He licked his lips and left.

  I looked at the object that had caused him a moment’s pause. The clock just sat there, the painted hands not moving. It read two-thirty, but that meant nothing. I saw nothing special about it, but I wondered. The fake cuckoo clock was large, about two and a half feet high and around two feet wide. The woodwork was beautiful. On the clock face where the two hands met in the center was the @ symbol. Behind the wall of the cuckoo clock was a safe.

  I looked over at Elizabeth bending over again. She looked up at me and gave me a teasing smile. Regina looked over her shoulder at me and shook her head. I went to get a cup of water. As I was bending down to grab a paper cup from the dispenser I noticed a square depression in the carpet next to the water cooler. I slowly edged the cooler back over to the old depression. It wasn't much blood. Just enough that would come from a contusion on the back of your head if you had fallen there. I looked at the edge of the cooler and noticed a small dent.

  29

  The Malice Grove Police Department doubled as the Keystone Kops. They walked all over the scene and touched everything they could possibly think of touching. Archer came shortly after the police arrived. They really had no idea what they were doing. I just sat back and watched the circus with Archer doing his best ringleader impersonation. Finally, he gave up and approached me.

  "What do you think it means?" he asked.

  "I think it's pretty obvious."

  He looked at me with pleading eyes. He was actually asking for my help, hoping I wouldn’t force him to say the words. I looked at him for a beat making him sweat it out a little.

  Finally, I relented. "Daniel Miles was abducted here."

  "That's what I figured," he said. "Miles had a contusion on the back of his head. I'll bet it will coincide with that dent on the water cooler."

  "Match the blood from the carpet with Daniel anyway."

  "I'll do that," he said. "I've been thinking."

  "That's a switch.”

  "This really isn't the time or place for jokes, March."

  "At least you didn't call me little Joey Junior. That's an improvement."

  "I said this isn't the time.”

  "When is the time?" I asked.

  A uniformed officer gave an excited yelp and said, "Sir, sir."

  "What the hell are you squealing like a little girl for?" Archer asked.

  "It's a gun, sir.”

  I shot a glance at the officer and walked over to him, followed by Archer. The water cooler was on its side. Taped to the bottom of the cooler was a black gun with a silver handle.

  "You're kidding me," I said. "Is this some sort of prank?"

  "No sir," the officer said.

  "What kind of killer tapes the murder weapon under a water cooler?" Archer asked.

  "Did you plant that?" I asked.

  “What do you make me out for?” Archer asked. The officer looked genuinely hurt.

  “Exactly what you are. I know how things work around here.”

  “I didn’t plant it, I swear,” the officer said.

  “Someone did. Daniel wasn’t killed here. He might have been taken from here, but he was tortured and killed in the old mill.”

  Elizabeth walked up behind me. “So someone comes back here and plants a gun under the water cooler? Why?”

  “Obviously, they wanted us to find this gun.”

  "Doesn't make sense,” Elizabeth said.

  "Sure it does," I said.

  "How?" Archer asked. “I’m with her.”
>
  "We'll have to wait and see for the answer to that. Everything makes sense eventually.”

  “You mean you don’t know?” Elizabeth asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder at her. "Ten will get you twenty that the gun is registered to Tom Watkins.”

  “Watkins has an alibi for the Miles murder,” Archer said.

  “I didn’t say he was guilty,” I said. “But no one leaves a gun with that shiny little serial number there unless they know exactly who it gets traced back to. Someone is playing games with me. I don’t like games. Whoever planted that isn’t going to like how I play.”

  "Do you know who it is?" Archer asked.

  "Not yet,” I said.

  “I thought you knew everything,” Elizabeth said.

  "Almost everything,” I said looking at Elizabeth longer than I should have. She looked at me puzzled for a moment.

  "Do you think Watkins killed Miles or not?" Archer asked.

  "Miles? No, he didn’t kill Daniel," I said. "Are you ready for dinner Elizabeth?"

  "Uh... yes," she said. "I guess if we’re still on. Let me get my things."

  She walked away from me. Archer dismissed his officers and led me back to my office. He nodded to Regina and she looked away. He closed the door behind us.

  “What’s with the escort?” I asked.

  “Look, I’m a little out of my depth here. I’ve never actually investigated anything in my life. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “I couldn’t even tell. You faked it marvelously. What makes you think I do?”

  “Look, March, you’re already investigating all of this. All I’m asking is that you keep me in the loop.”

  “You might not like where the loop ends up.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” he said and walked to the door. “I didn’t like where the loop ended before you showed up.”