All Chickens Must Die: A Benjamin Wade Mystery (9 page)

The
drive wasn’t terrible. I arrived at
Danielle’s apartment ten minutes later. I stood and waited for about five
minutes before someone came out of the complex. I doffed my hat to the young
lady and held the gate for her as she left the premises. So trusting. So
foolish.

I ascended the stairs, then approached Danielle’s room with
caution. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Walking down the hallway, I hoped my
shoes didn’t squeak or a floorboard didn’t give away my presence.

Putting my ear to her door, I listened. For a few moments, I
heard nothing. Then, a shuffling of paper. Next, footsteps doing their best not
to sound too loud. I reached into my jacket and verified my gun was secure in
its shoulder holster. No need to go in like a cowboy. Perhaps we could just
talk.

I reached out and grasped the handle. I gave it a gentle twist.
Aha! Movement. Was she expecting someone? Probably, but not me.

Turning the knob all the way, I prayed that the door wouldn’t
squeak. Carefully, I opened the door keeping my eyes peeled for anything.
Through the sliver of space, I could see only the interior of Danielle’s room.
I opened the door wider and saw the back of a figure hunched over a desk. I
opened the door the rest of the way. Without another thought, I threw the door
wide. It slammed into the wall.

The person hunched over the desk uttered a short gasp and dropped
the sheaf of papers. She turned around and then gaped at me, open mouthed.

“Hello, Danielle. Going somewhere?”

She put a hand over her chest, trying to calm her breathing. “Mr.
Wade, you scared me.”

“Was it me that scared you or the fact that I
wasn’t
someone else?”

She tried for a smile but it faltered on delivery. “Both,
really.”

“You were expecting Marlowe? What are y’all planning? A getaway?”

“Well,” she stammered.

“Don’t bother. Let me ask you a question: if you were in on it,
how did you expect to get the real diamond?”

For the first time since I had met her, Danielle Bowie’s
countenance changed. Gone was the sheepish, slightly flustered girl. In her
place was a steely-eyed woman. “Because you were going to bring it to me.”

I paused, pondering the meaning of her words. “How do you mean?”

“You found the diamond last night.” A knowing smile crept into
her features. “I’m just glad it was you and not me digging through all the
chicken shit to find it.”

Not fully seeing the thread, I decided to bluff. “I don’t have
the diamond. I think you’re mistaken.”

“Oh, I know you have it, Mr. Wade. You had it with you when you
went to meet Teague an hour ago. You tapped your coat pocket. That’s all I
needed to know. The only thing left is for you to give it to me.”

I cracked a smile. “Even if I did have it, how do you think
you’ll make me give it to you?”

She reached over to the writing desk. From under a book, she
pulled out a snub-nosed revolver. “Because I’ll shoot you if you don’t.”

Having guns pointed at me was becoming a common occurrence as a
PI, much more so than when I was a cop. I made my smile widen.

Danielle frowned. “Why are you smiling? I’m willing to shoot you
to get the diamond.”

“I still have an ace up my sleeve.” Over my shoulder, I said.
“Now.”

Martha Weber came into Danielle’s apartment. In her two-handed
grip, she held her own revolver aimed squarely at Danielle.

“You always this cavalier with your life, Mr. Wade?” Martha
asked.

“Not usually. I just needed Danielle here to confirm she’s in on
the heist.” I tilted my head at Danielle. “Thanks, by the way.” I walked over
to Danielle and took the gun from her. I opened the cylinder and dropped all
the bullets into my palm. I put the bullets in my pocket and tossed the gun
across the room. “Have a seat.”

Danielle, wary of Martha’s gun which was trained on her, moved
over to her couch and sat. “May I light a cigarette?”

“No.” I walked over to her and shook out one of my own. I offered
it to her and lit it.

“You have trust issues, Mr. Wade,” Danielle said.

“I do.” I motioned to Martha to pull a chair over and set near
Danielle. She complied. Looking around the room, I found Danielle’s purse. I
brought it over and sat across from her. “Let’s see what we have in here that
says 1:10 p.m.”

I rifled through her purse. The usual assortment of female items.
Tucked deep into the bottom was an envelope. I opened it and pulled out three
train tickets, all for a coach seat on the 1:10 p.m. train out of Houston at
Grand Central Station.

Three? What had I missed?

“Who’s the third ticket for?” I said. “You and Marlowe, I get.
Who’s the third?”

It was her turn to smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I read the names on the tickets. Preston Marlowe, Danielle Bowie
and…

“Amos Peete?” I stared at her in astonishment. “You know Amos
Peete?”

Danielle smiled at me and shook her head. “You don’t think I’d
let my brother stay behind and wind up in jail, do you?”

The revelation was surprising, but what was more surprising was
that I didn’t have a clue how this all fit together. Danielle and Peete are
siblings? In what world did
that
make sense? She must have been the one
who had Peete tail and get to know Clara. See what she knew on the night
Marlowe visited Teague. Then I showed up and he started in on me, going so far
as attacking me in my own house. It’s because he was looking for the diamond,
but I gave him enough of a fight that he had to hightail it before the police
showed up.

“Marlowe?”

“He and I are lovers, if you must know, Mr. Wade.”

Most of the pieces were now falling into place. “Marlowe was
hired by Kruger to get the diamond Aldridge bought before Kruger could get it.
That means—”I made sure I had my facts somewhat in order—”Kruger and Marlowe
are both part of that mysterious organization.”

“It’s more of an informal society, if you must know.”

“And, if Teague isn’t a part of the society, that means Marlowe
has something on Teague to force him to order the slaughter. But, if you’re
Marlowe’s lover that means you know about this organization.”

Danielle gave me a pitying look. “Mr. Wade, I not only know about
the organization, I’m a member of it.”

I stood. “Well, then, looks like we have a date at the train
station.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Danielle blew smoke in my direction.
“And Marlowe is an expert thief. He’ll smell a rat a mile away if you show up
alone.”

She was right. I paced the room while Martha continued to hold
her gun on Danielle. I looked at the two of them. The thing that had stuck in
my craw for a couple of days finally dislodged.

And now I knew how I was going to catch Marlowe.

I raced across the room and picked up the phone. Danielle
suddenly looked worried. “Who are you calling?”

“The police. You’re going to jail.”

Danielle actually laughed at that. “You seem very certain, Mr.
Wade.”

I spoke into the telephone, then hung up. Walking over to Martha,
I motioned for her to stand and I whispered something in her ear.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Think you can handle it, seeing as the two of y’all
will be alone together?”

For the first time since I’d met her, I saw Martha’s smile.
“We’ll do just fine.” She angled a look at me. “This mean I have the job?”

“Absolutely.”

“And what are you going to do?” Martha asked.

“I’m going to go see an old friend.”

The
University Savings and Loan building
was a short, five-story brick structure in the West University district of
Houston. Located just off Kirby Drive, it was among the tallest buildings in
the area. It had the air of being the biggest fish in a moderately small pond.

Oliver Aldridge was that fish and his savings and loan was the
pond. His wealth was probably ill-gotten but his influence was oddly
substantial. You’d think that a fish like him would only have influence in the
hiring and firing of his employees, but you’d be wrong. He knew people,
powerful people. I decided that he owed me a favor.

I parked my car and strolled into the lobby like I owned the
place which, for the next few minutes, I did.

A guard noticed me first. He didn’t do much other than unfold his
arms and hook his thumbs in his belt. I paid him no mind. Instead, I walked straight
across the lobby until I reached the receptionist who sat in front of an ornate
office. Now, “ornate” by bank standards is several rungs lower on the scale
than, say, that of an oil man or a rancher. Still, it was the fanciest office
in the room.

I rapped a knuckle on the receptionist’s desk. She looked up and
then over her glasses. Her brunette hair was beginning to show streaks of gray.

“May I help you?” Her tone indicated that the correct answer was
“no.”

I pointed at her boss’s office door. “I need to see him.”

“I’m sorry,” she said but didn’t mean it. “Mr. Aldridge isn’t
seeing anyone this morning.”

“He’ll see me.”

“Why?”

I leaned down closer to her ear. “Because I know where the
diamond is.”

She frowned.

“Just tell him. I promise he’ll see me.” I waggled my eyebrows
and waited for her to comply.

She threw a glance at the security guard. His impassive stare
offered her no hope. With another stink eye at me, she rose and walked primly
to the frosted glass door and slid inside. The lobby was quiet, but I still
couldn’t make out the conversation going on in there. Probably helped when the
bank had to foreclose on some poor soul.

A few minutes later, the door opened and the receptionist walked
out followed by a man who wasn’t Aldridge. Turned out it was a bank vice
president named Sanderson. He was short and portly. There was almost no hair on
his head. His face had the pucker of a man who had just peeled and eaten a
lemon. This wasn’t going to be good.

Mr. Sanderson didn’t offer me his hand. “I’m sorry, but Mr.
Aldridge isn’t taking any meetings this morning, mister—what is your name?”

“Wade. I’m a private eye. Mr. Aldridge should know me. I visited
his wife yesterday, but not in the way you just thought of.” I reached into my
jacket and pulled out a business card. “This is for you in case you can’t
remember my name.”

The puckered mouth actually shrank more. “No need for
name-calling, Mr. Wade.”

“I didn’t call you a name. Don’t say I did.” I indicated the card
with my chin. “You gonna give that to Aldridge?”

“Probably not,” Sanderson said. “But I’ll see you out.”

I stood my ground. “I’m not sure if your secretary told you, but
tell Aldridge I have the diamond.” I smiled. “He’ll know what I mean.”

Mr. Sanderson paused a moment, clearly thinking things over. I
helped him out.

“Would you like to be the one to explain to your boss how you
knew who had the diamond but then felt it your duty to escort that person out
of his grasp? I’m offering myself to you as long as you take me to Aldridge.
You’ll be a hero. Maybe you can buy some more lemons.” I raised my eyebrows.

Sanderson just stared at me. He noticed his secretary and the
guard looking at him.

“I don’t think you can just walk in here and demand anything, Mr.
Wade.”

“Maybe not, but the only way I’m leaving here is by being
dragged. Then, won’t everyone comment on that? It might even end up in the
paper. You think your boss will like that?”

Sanderson pursed his lips and gave a noncommittal shrug. “Wait
here.” He walked back to his secretary’s desk and picked up the phone. He
dialed and waited, then spoke in low tones.

To his secretary, I said, “Does he eat lemons for breakfast?”

She looked at me and stifled a chuckle.

Sanderson nodded, then nodded again. He shot a look at me. I knew
I was in. I really knew it when Sanderson’s shoulders slumped, then rose again.
He put the receiver down and came back to stand in front of me.

“You got your wish, Mr. Wade. I hope you know what you’re doing.
Follow me.”

Oliver Aldridge’s office was about as ostentatious as you could
get and still be considered something resembling a work environment. The walls
were lined with photos of Aldridge and various celebrities, politicians, and
other folks I didn’t know. Atop one wall hung the taxidermied head of a
ten-point deer. The opposite wall had an African gazelle. The accompanying
photo showed Aldridge, decked out in safari gear, kneeling in front of a Jeep
with the freshly shot gazelle in the foreground.

I guess he liked his prey best when they were dead.

Sanderson stood politely out of the way. Three men—let’s call
them guards—dressed in suits stood at the ready. The bulges in their suits told
me they were armed. I still got the impression Aldridge wasn’t too sure of my
story and wanted to make sure to stay out of the range of collateral damage, to
keep his suit clean.

The big wing chair behind the massive desk faced the window at
the far side of the office. Out of the window, the main area of downtown shone
in the morning sunlight. The traffic down on Kirby Drive was moderate, cars
moving up and down its lanes. Thick, velvety curtains framed the window. The
desk was the typical banker’s desk complete with a green lamp, a desk blotter
as pristine as you could image, and a few silver pens standing in pen holders.
Two black phones were positioned off to one corner of the desk. A third phone
sat opposite the pair.

From behind the chair, the voice of Oliver Aldridge slithered out
of his mouth. “I think you and I have had some dealings before, Mr. Wade.”

I stepped forward. One of his goons tensed. Another took a step
toward me. I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise. “Yes, we did.”

“You were a beat cop on the force, if I remember correctly.”

“That’s right.”

“And what was it you called me?”

The memory jolted to the front of my brain. Inwardly I cringed.
It was one thing to call a man a lying, thieving son of a bitch to a bunch of
fellow officers with one lousy reporter in the room who passed along the
compliment to Aldridge. It was quite another to be talking with the man to whom
the jab was directed.

I cleared my throat and threw caution to the wind. I wanted
something from him and the best way to get it was the direct approach. “I
believe it was something along the lines of a lying, thieving son of a bitch.”

Aldridge finally swung around in his chair. I hadn’t seen the man
in person for a few years, but, evidently, time had been good for him. He was
tanned to a nice golden hue. His clothes, as always, were starched so heavily
you could use them as a notepad. The gaudy rings on his fingers picked up the
light. The tie all but glistened in the light of the room.

He smiled at me. It was the smile of a snake. “That’s exactly
what you said.” He gave me a steady look. “Care to repeat it again, this time
to my face?”

“Truth be told, Mr. Aldridge, I’d rather not.”

“Too yellow to say it to my face?”

“No, more like that’s in the past. That’s not why I’m here
today.” I indicated my suit pocket. “Mind if I get a cigarette?”

His goons eyed me but Aldridge nodded. I tapped a cigarette out
and put fire to it. The lungful of smoke soothed me.

“I think you know why I’m here, Mr. Aldridge.”

He smiled, showing white but crooked teeth. “Why don’t you tell
me?”

I walked over to a chair opposite his desk and plopped myself in
it. “The diamond.”

“What diamond?” Aldridge kept his voice even, trying to suppress
the surprise in it.

“You know what diamond,” I said. “The diamond you bought. The
same diamond that was stolen from your house. Now I’ve got it. Call it my
ticket in here to chat with you.”

Aldridge wet his lips. I saw the twitches running just under his
skin. I suspect not many people talked to him this way.

He folded his hands. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Chickens.”

Some of the men behind me chuckled. Even Aldridge tried to keep a
grin from showing on his stoic face. “Chickens?”

“That’s right, chickens.”

“What about chickens?”

“Well, you see, it’s like this.” I settled in to offer a
discourse. Or, at least, a bluff. “I have a client who earns his living by
raising chickens. It’s his bread and butter like money is to you or
investigations are to me. With me so far?”

Aldridge arched an eyebrow in response.

Right. “Something was taken from you, as you well know or we
wouldn’t be talking.”

He looked at me evenly. “I heard you visited my house yesterday.
Interviewed my wife. Made kind of a nuisance of yourself. Why were you there?”

So ended the question-and-answer session. Time for only answers.
I needed to get back on top of this. “Investigating,” I said, buying time.
“Putting things together, looking for the reason why someone would want to
slaughter a bunch of chickens.”

“And did you?”

“I did. You see, the man who stole the diamond from you ended up
losing it in the chicken coop of your neighbor, Mr. Smith. The thief, a man
named Preston Marlowe, was set to deliver the gem to the man who hired him, but
the only way to get the diamond was to kill all the chickens and examine their
carcasses one by one until he found the diamond.”

Aldridge arched an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. But Marlowe must not have grown up near a farm
because he didn’t know that all hard objects like stones or diamonds simply
pass through the digestive tracts of chickens. He was looking at the wrong end
of the birds.”

“And you found my diamond?”

“I did.”

“Do you have it?”

“I do.”

He snapped his fingers. His men started moving toward me.

“Hey, I don’t have it with me. I’m not that dumb.”

Aldridge chuckled at that. “You’re pretty close to that dumb. I
can have my boys work it out of you. Have you howling in no time. You’ll just
give it to me and be begging for your life.”

I spread my hands. “Mr. Aldridge, I’m gonna give you the diamond.
It’s why I’m here.”

He stopped, his mouth agape, staring at me. “What?”

“I’m here to let you know I’m perfectly willing to return what’s
rightfully yours.”

He narrowed his eyes. “But?”

“I’d like to have you to do a favor for me.”

“What?”

“Make a phone call.”

“A phone call?”

“Yup. To someone who can cancel the death warrant on my client’s
chickens.”

The room was silent for a moment until one of the goons chuckled.
In a flash, Aldridge snapped his fingers and jerked his thumb in the man’s
direction. “Out.” The offending man stopped laughing but stood there, as if he
didn’t really think his boss had just dismissed him.

“Did I not make myself clear? Get the hell out of my office.”

The chastened man shuffled out the door.

Aldridge looked at me. “I misunderstood you, Mr. Wade. You are a
man of honor.”

“Thank you. Now, who do you know in the agriculture department?”

“Whom.”

“What?”

“Whom do you know in the agriculture department? Didn’t you pass
grammar?”

I shrugged. “Not with flying colors. Is there anyone you can call
who can pull some strings and get this slaughter order rescinded? Like that
fancy word?”

“Not really. I have a degree from the University of Texas. Where
did you earn your degree?”

I scowled. “School of hard knocks. It’s amazing how much you can
learn from the streets.”

“Like how to arrest the wrong man?”

I smirked. “No, that takes institutional knowledge.”

“Or a few men in the Houston Police Department who know the truth
but choose to ignore it for their own gains.” He steepled his fingers. “Now, it
is my turn to ask you for a question. You mentioned the thief’s name. Do you
know his client?”

“A man named Kruger.”

Aldridge slammed his open palm on his desk so hard everything on
the desk jumped an inch. Despite my cool exterior, so did I.

“God damn him,” Aldridge bellowed. “I knew it. I knew it!” He
stood so abruptly that the chair went flying backward, smashing into the wall.

Sheepishly walking into Aldridge’s anger, I said, “Marlowe and
Kruger are part of some sort of secret society that has, as a rule, the
unquestioning obligation to right the wrongs, perceived or otherwise, done to
its members. Based on what I’ve learned and what I’ve been able to deduce,
Kruger must have thought it a slight that you bought that diamond before he
did. Seeing that as a wrong, he contacted Marlowe to steal what Kruger thought
was rightfully his.”

“It never was his,” Aldridge yelled. “I bought it. The diamond
belongs to me.”

A new thought occurred to me. “How would you like to have a
little chat with Marlowe, see what he knows about Kruger?”

Aldridge turned and leveled his gaze on me. “Do you know where he
is?”

“No, but I know where he’s going to be. And I’ve already set a
plan in motion to get him. If you, um, would like to be in on it, I have an
easy way to make sure you get a piece of him.”

Aldridge pursed his lips, then came around his desk and sat on
the edge. “Explain.”

I did.

He nodded. “I’m taking an awful chance with my diamond, Wade.
This had better work.”