Malice Times Read online

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  Joshua was hiding in the closet of the Archer’s upstairs bedroom when he heard voices downstairs and two people walking up the steps. He had been waiting for close to an hour for Graber to show. Finally, the time had come. He watched them get to the top of the steps and start down the hallway. He checked his gun. He didn’t want to kill the woman, but what choice did he have. This was the time. She wasn’t supposed to be here. It wasn’t his fault. It was Brad Graber’s fault that she was going to die. They ducked into a bedroom further down the hall. Joshua stood peeking out of the doorway for a moment trying to collect his courage. Maybe they had seen him. He heard some talking and some kissing. He moved out of the bedroom and with his back against the wall, moved quietly down the hallway towards the guest bedroom.

  He peered into the bedroom and he could see them naked in an embrace near the far window. He raised his gun and took aim at them. Then, he saw movement behind them in the window. Joshua lowered his gun and stared at the window. Brad and Celia started to walk away from the window. Joshua looked at the window and saw a man with a Polaroid camera. The photo slid out of the front slot of the camera. Joshua stood there frozen as he heard the shower start. Joshua kept his eyes on the window too afraid to move. The man had ducked down out of sight. He couldn’t kill everyone. He thought about abandoning the whole thing.

  Groans of passion came from the bathroom. At least somebody was enjoying themselves. He kept his eyes on the window. There was no movement. He wondered if he was still there. He walked into the guest bedroom and snuck towards the window. The sun was descending on the horizon. He looked out the window and there was no one there. He saw a figure running along towards the gate leading to the front of the house. Then, he stopped. Joshua looked back at the bathroom and got his gun ready when he heard the front door open downstairs. He moved quickly from the bedroom and towards the stairs. He listened, but couldn’t hear anything. He snuck down a couple of steps so that he could see into the rest of the house. A big man he had never seen before walked back towards and through the front door, closing it behind him.

  ♦♦♦

  Marcus watched Archer stumble towards his car. He got up and started walking towards him. Archer could barely walk. Marcus couldn’t let him drive home in that condition. Archer fumbled in his pocket for his keys. They materialized out of one of his pockets and fell to the ground. Archer swayed as he tried to lean over to pick them up. He stood back up abruptly before getting them. He fell backwards and Marcus caught him before he hit the ground.

  “Let me take you home, Mr. Archer,” Marcus said.

  Archer mumbled something. Marcus grabbed the keys off of the ground, unlocked the door and lifted Archer into the car.

  ♦♦♦

  Michael stood by the gate and watched Marcus lift Archer out of the car and carry him towards the front door. He unlocked the door with Archer’s keys and entered carrying the unconscious district attorney. He didn’t close the door behind him. Michael moved towards a window and looked in. He watched Marcus walk across the room and sit Archer in a big armchair. Marcus stood there for a moment. He dropped the keys on an end table and then walked back across the room and out the front door, closing it behind him. The twilight of night was darkening as Marcus walked up the street mumbling to himself.

  ♦♦♦

  Joshua walked back towards the bedroom. He didn’t know who the man had been, but it didn’t concern him. He was gone. He walked back down the steps and looked out the window. The man was walking up the street. He watched him go. Then, he saw a flash in front of the window and he ducked back. After a few seconds, he braved a glance out the window and saw the man with the Polaroid walking up the street to a parked car. He got in and sat there. He waited for him to drive away, but he didn’t. Above him he heard the shower stop. He watched the man in the car. He was away from the house at least. If he didn’t drive away, he could at least sneak off. Darkness started to fall. The long shadows of the tall bushes that lined the side garden from the street disappeared. The man with the Polaroid sat in his car fiddling with his camera. What was he waiting for? It didn’t matter.

  The house was shrouded in darkness. He went back to the steps and started creeping upwards slowly. A creak of the steps stopped him dead in his tracks. His gun pointed up the steps. He waited. No one emerged from the bedroom. He continued up the steps. Suddenly the fireworks started up startling him again as he got to the top of the steps. He could hear their voices.

  “You can see the fireworks from the window,” Celia said.

  “I’m too tired,” Brad said. The bed creaked. “Come sit here with me. Watkins won’t be here for a little bit. He won’t leave the party until after the fireworks start.”

  “I’m scared,” she said. “Do you really think something is up?”

  “I don’t know, but something isn’t right. I don’t know what all this talk about me going to New York is all about. It might be innocent, but as long as I have the stones, they won’t try anything. I want some answers before I give them up.”

  Joshua looked into the room and saw Brad Graber and Celia Archer on the bed. Brad lay on the bed. Celia sat next to him, her back to the door. Joshua could only see Graber’s legs and the top of his head. Celia brushed her hand through Graber’s hair.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you, too,” Graber said.

  Joshua moved slowly into the room gun trained on them. Celia Archer was looking down at Brad Graber who was lying contentedly on the bed, his hands behind his head, eyes closed. He looked exhausted. Celia Archer turned and looked. Joshua fired a barrage of shots. Brad Graber didn’t even open his eyes. Celia Archer fell over onto Brad’s chest in a last lover’s embrace.

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  As the fireworks started, Watkins moved over to where Lynda was standing. She felt him approach, but continued to look at the sky. “Pretty nice display,” she said.

  “Yes, it is. Can’t stay to watch. Gotta take care of business,” Watkins said.

  “Well, take care of it then,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

  Watkins watched the fireworks explode in the sky for a few second and then he walked to his car. He hated fireworks. As he got into his car, he saw a man walking up the drive towards the house. He was mumbling something to himself. He went and sat down in a gazebo off to the side of the house. Watkins drove the car down the driveway and towards Archer’s house. He had made the drive earlier. It would only take a couple of minutes to get there.

  ♦♦♦

  Michael was sitting in his car looking at his Polaroid when he heard the shots. He dropped to the floor of the vehicle out of instinct. He looked around at the windows of his car. No bullet holes. He poked his head up and peeked out through the passenger’s window. There was no movement anywhere.

  A car pulled up and stopped in front of the Archer house. An enormous man got out that he recognized from the party. He had been talking to his father. He checked his Polaroid camera. He framed the man in his sights. Then, there was a flash of headlights in front of him. He ducked down as the car passed him. He looked up, but the man was already in the darkness of the porch. There would be no good picture of this man until he left. Michael sat and waited.

  ♦♦♦

  Joshua walked down the steps and looked out the front window. The car was still there, but he couldn’t see the man with the camera. He walked through the living room without even noticing Stephen Archer sleeping in the chair and walked out through the garden. He went to the edge of the hedge on the far side of the garden and squeezed through a narrow opening in the bushes. He got in his car. He drove past the Archer house as he saw Watkins walk into the Archer house. He knew the man. What the hell was he doing there? He almost stopped the car, but he had also seen the man with the Polaroid looking out the passenger window of his car. He drove ahead, rage filling him. Graber had said Watkins was coming. Graber and Watkins together. Somehow they were working
together again to double-cross Uncle Paul.

  ♦♦♦

  Watkins walked to the front door and peered into the window. Watkins tried the doorknob to the front door and it opened. He moved quietly inside. He could smell the alcohol as soon as he walked in the door. Then, he heard the sound of gentle snoring coming from the living room. Sitting in a big armchair was Archer. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming. He wasn’t supposed to be here. His wife was supposed to keep him occupied at the party. What the hell was he doing here? Watkins didn’t like it when things didn’t go according to plan. He moved quietly to the steps and started up them. As he got halfway up, he could hear the sound of the fireworks booming in the distance. A light was shining through an open doorway halfway down the hall. Something was wrong. The smell of a freshly fired gun lingered in the air. He knew the smell well. He climbed to the top of the steps and removed his gun.

  He moved to the doorway and peeked around the corner of the doorjamb. Lying in bed was Brad Graber with Celia Archer draped across his chest. There was a lot of blood. This was not how it was supposed to go. Brad Graber was supposed to be here alone and he certainly wasn’t supposed to be dead. Things were all screwy. Watkins didn’t know what to do. Archer was snoozing away downstairs. There were two dead bodies upstairs. Watkins did the only thing he could do, what he had come here for. Watkins searched for the diamonds. He found a duffel bag under the bed. He grabbed the bag and walked downstairs. He could feel the noose tightening around his neck. Someone was setting him up, he was sure of it. Not today. He moved over to Archer. He wondered if he had killed them. There had been no gun in the bedroom and there was none here either. He wasn’t sure what to do. Regan had wanted Graber dead, but not here, not like this. He thought quickly and put his gun in Archer’s hand after wiping it clean. Watkins’ gun was untraceable back to him. He could fix it so that it got traced to Archer. Regan had to believe that someone other than him had killed Graber and Archer fit the bill. He walked out of the house.

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  Michael sat there in his car wondering who the man was in the Archer household. He checked his camera to make sure everything was working fine. The rumblings of the grand finale went off in the distance as the enormous man walked out of the house carrying a duffel bag. The duffel bag looked full. Michael moved his camera to his eye and took a picture. He stared at the Polaroid and waited for it to develop as the man walked up to his car and drove away. He didn’t dare venture another look out the window for some time. The picture came out perfectly. After he was sure no one was lurking to kill him, he got out of his car and walked over to the Archer house slowly. The sky had grown quiet. The door opened for him just as it had for everyone else. He moved into the house. Archer was snoring loudly in the chair. Michael walked slowly up the steps and located the bedroom where he had seen Brad and Celia. The door was open. They were on the bed. He moved over to them and grabbed Celia by the shoulder and pulled. She flopped over on to her back. Celia’s eyes stared up at him. Brad’s were closed in peaceful serenity. He was so beautiful. Michael took a picture of the two of them. As he was getting ready to leave he looked down at the poor helpless bodies and a tinge of sorrow passed through him. He pulled some covers up over their bodies and walked out of the room. He ran back down the steps, slamming the front door closed. He ran to his car and got in, but dared not move.

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  Watkins drove back to his hotel and went up to his room. The fireworks were over. Lynda was waiting for him in their room. She smiled when he came bursting through the door. “You’re early. Is that it?”

  He smiled. He placed the duffel bag on the bed.

  “Maybe we can just disappear. Regan would never find us,” she said.

  “Of course he’d find us.” Watkins unzipped the duffel bag. On top was a bunch of muddy clothes and a pair of muddy shoes. He pulled them out. At the bottom of the bag was a small black bag. He opened the bag and a small amount of cut diamonds fell into his hand. He looked in horror at Lynda. “This isn’t it.”

  “What?” she asked. “Where’s the rest?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Graber pulled a switch,” she said.

  “Graber’s dead,” Watkins said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was dead when I got there. The Archer woman, too.”

  “Someone stole the diamonds. Regan is going to kill you.”

  “I have to call him,” he said.

  “Are you crazy? We have to figure this out before we call him.”

  “He is waiting to hear from me.” He couldn’t hide the panic in his voice. “We gotta run.”

  “Run where? With what? How much are those diamonds worth?”

  “I don’t know. Five million maybe.”

  “We can disappear on that.”

  “We don’t have five million. These diamonds are useless to us. We try selling these, we’d be lucky to get ten percent of their value. We can’t sell them to anyone legitimate. We’d end up in jail. They’d see that they were from The Golden Seagull in ten seconds. The real money is in the uncut stones. What am I going to do?”

  “You are going to go back to that house and find the uncut stones,” she said. “Now, go.”

  ♦♦♦

  The slamming of a door woke Archer. How had he gotten home? He couldn’t remember getting here. The last thing he could remember was being lifted into his car. Why had he drunk so much? What time was it? It was eleven. What was in his hand? He looked down and saw the steely glint of a firearm. He let go of the gun and it clanged on the tile floor. What had he done? He got up and walked up the steps. “Celia,” he said as he walked up the steps slowly. The house was as quiet as a church at midnight. “Honey, are you up there?”

  He got to the top of the steps. A light shined from the guest bedroom. He walked towards the light tentatively. “Celia, is that you?” He came to the door and peered in. The blood had soaked through the sheets. He moved over, pulled the sheets back and looked down into the lifeless faces of his wife and her lover. “Oh my God, what have I done?” He ran from the room and to the bathroom attached to his bedroom and threw up in the toilet. After the retching had stopped he went to the telephone and called Joe.

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  Watkins drove up to the house. This time he noticed a man in a car holding a camera. He looked at the house as he drove by and saw lights on throughout the house. He was too late. He drove on without stopping. Watkins drove back to the hotel. Lynda was not pleased to see him so empty-handed. “The house was lit up like a Christmas tree and there was a guy with a camera sitting in a car outside.”

  “Cops already. How?”

  “Maybe someone heard the shots. I’m lucky I got out of there when I did.”

  “Now what?”

  “Now, I call Regan,” he said.

  “It’s your funeral,” she said.

  He picked up the phone and dialed Regan’s private number in New York. He answered on the first ring. “I was expecting to hear from you by now,” Regan said sharply.

  “Things didn’t go as planned,” Watkins said.

  “They rarely do,” Regan said. “That’s why I hire capable men to handle whatever comes up. Why don’t you tell me what went wrong and how you handled things for me?”

  “They were dead when I got there,” he said.

  “They?” Regan asked.

  “Graber and Celia Archer,” Watkins said. “Stephen Archer was asleep in a chair downstairs.”

  “Sounds like Grand Central Station.”

  “It felt like it. I located a duffel bag under the bed and grabbed it.”

  “That’s good,” Regan said. “We can fix everything else.”

  “It isn’t as good as you think,” Watkins said, the panic evident in his voice.

  “What do you mean? What was in the duffel bag?” Regan asked.

  “Nothing, just some dirty clothes.” He didn’t know why he lied, but the panic set into him hard and he t
hought that if he did need to run, whatever he could get for the diamonds would be better than nothing.

  “You stole the dirty underwear of two dead people,” Regan said. His calm demeanor was cracking. “Stay right where you are and await further instructions.” Then, the line went dead. Regan had hung up on him.

  ♦♦♦

  Drake answered the phone on the first ring. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Bruce,” Regan said. “Our plans didn’t exactly go as planned.”

  “What do you mean?” Drake asked.

  “Graber is dead and the diamonds are missing. Do you know anything about that?”

  “No, why would I?”

  “Someone has those diamonds. And the only two people who knew they were there are both denying that they have them. Someone is lying to me. I don’t like being lied to Bruce. It makes me testy.”

  “I don’t have the damn diamonds. Watkins must have them.”

  “If he does, why did he call me, Bruce? Where is my nephew? I want to talk to him.”

  “Sure, let me get him.”

  Drake was scared. Drake found Joshua in his room. He was on the bed staring at the ceiling. He handed him the phone. “It’s your Uncle Paul. He wants to talk to you.”

  Drake wanted to run, but he stayed rooted to the spot. What was happening? How could Regan possibly think that he would kill Graber and steal the diamonds? The happiness he had felt from a job perfectly pulled off had developed into a deep nightmare.

  Joshua took the phone. “Yes, Uncle Paul.”

  “Josh, I need your help,” he said.

  “What do you need?” Joshua said.

  Drake started to back out of the room.

  “Was Bruce there all night?” Regan asked.

  Joshua looked at Bruce. Bruce stopped moving, frozen to the spot. He couldn’t move any more than a tree could have. “Sure. Why?” Joshua asked.