Free Draw (The Jake Samson & Rosie Vicente Detective Series Book 2) (18 page)

“What’s up?” I asked, searching her tired face for some clue to what might be wrong.

“I need to know what you’re doing,” she said, lighting another cigarette.

I stalled. “Why is it more important for you to know this week than it was last week?”

“Because if I’m going to lose my job I’d like to know what I’m losing it for.” I waited for her to go on. “I know you called Bert Franklin today at work. I know you invited him for a drink. Morton knows, too. The minute Franklin got off the phone with you he went to report to his buddy.”

“That’s not exactly a big surprise. I thought he might. What’s that got to do with you?”

“I’ll take it slowly so you understand,” she said with what I thought was unnecessary superiority. “Last week, you asked me out to lunch. Bert of course noticed. Bert of course told Morton.” I nodded to show I understood her so far. “Morton didn’t think much about it at the time, but this week you made a date with Bert. Obviously you are sneaking around trying to pump employees. Bert the loyal employee reported this fact to Morton. I, on the other hand, did not.”

“Ah hah!”

“Ah hah, indeed. Morton called me in right after he talked to Bert. He wanted to know what you and I talked about. He wanted to know why I hadn’t given him a full report. And the son of a bitch wanted to know— as he put it— how close we are. Was I seeing you? What happened at lunch? I want another drink.” I got it for her and brought it back to the table.

“Pretty paranoid stuff,” I said. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth. That you asked a lot of questions about Smith and about the company and I didn’t tell you anything. I also said I assumed he knew what you were doing since you’d also talked to him.”

“And he didn’t think that was reasonable.”

“No. He didn’t make any direct accusations, but he made a little speech about the importance of corporate security. Then, he got all jovial and made a ‘joke’ about how maybe I wanted a job with your magazine. So, what are you doing, Jake?”

I told her I was trying to find out who killed Smith.

She looked surprised. “Really?”

“Really.”

“For
Probe?”
Her expression made it clear that she wouldn’t swallow that.

“Well…”

“You’re not a reporter, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re Sam Spade.” I shrugged modestly. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“Because everyone who knew him is a suspect.”

She smiled, and then she started laughing. “You’re right. Anyone who knew that jerk could have wanted to kill him.”

She sipped at her drink, still smiling. Then she sat back and studied my face. “Maybe Morton did it.” I didn’t say anything. “Did you know that Smith resigned just a few days before he was killed?”

I tried to look cool and knowing, but I don’t think I succeeded.

“Do you know why? Do the police know? Who else knew about it?”

“I didn’t think you knew,” she laughed. “Now, one question at a time. I don’t know why. I’m only middle management. Bowen just let me know that one of my vice presidents was leaving. As for the police, they must know. They certainly spent enough time around the office before they decided to arrest Alan. Who else knew? Besides Bowen, and me, Armand and Morton would have had to know.”

I drank some beer to gain thinking time. “I’ve gotten the impression that Smith and Morton didn’t get along. Wouldn’t Morton be glad he was leaving, glad to be rid of him? Why would he kill him?”

Chloe shook her head at me. “Jake, you’re not thinking clearly. How much money do you think people can make selling correspondence courses? Multi-level marketing is based on a pyramid-shaped collection of busy little people selling— something— and pumping money up to the top. The higher up you go toward the point, the higher your commissions are. The more people you have below you, the more money you’ve got coming in.”

I nodded.

“Do you also understand that the key is recruiting? And do you understand that making money from recruitment alone is against the law? That you can’t make people pay a little something to the guy who brings them in— just for bringing them in? And that you can’t pay people a little something for recruiting more bodies to recruit more bodies?”

“Are you saying that’s what’s going on there?”

She looked away from me. “No. I’m not saying that at all. How would I know anything about that? I’m certainly not involved in anything like that and I don’t know it’s happening. But I do know that fortunes have been made that way, other times and other places. That sales of actual product had very little to do with those fortunes. That’s why there are laws now. Because a lot of little people got suckered into paying their money and taking their chances. And lost. Does Morton strike you as an honest man? He runs his own shop. Nobody interferes. Not even Armand.”

“And Smith was a moralist.”

“Right. Not enough of a moralist to object to the hype or even the useless course material. But outright lawbreaking? Maybe he was delivering an ultimatum when he delivered his resignation. In all the years I knew him, I never knew him to shaft anyone without warning them first. It was part of his code of honor.”

“Clean it up or I blow the whistle.”

“If there was anything to clean up.” She’d returned to her hear no evil, see no evil approach. I couldn’t blame her.

“And you can’t prove that Morton’s running a crooked operation.”

“No.”

“Can you tell me more about why you think he might be, and how you think he might be doing it?”

She was very quiet. “Give me a day or two,” she said softly. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?” I demanded. Her help might be valuable, if what she was saying was true, but that didn’t mean I could be absolutely sure I could trust her. Maybe she was just throwing a complicated, time-consuming, and smelly red herring at me.

“Because I don’t like being threatened, and Morton threatened me. Also, if he goes to jail he can’t fire me.”

“It seems funny,” I said, “that someone from Bright Future would trail Smith to the canyon to kill him.”

“What’s funny about that? It’s smarter than killing him in the executive toilet.”

Before we left each other, Chloe invited me to dinner on Wednesday. She said she would try to have something for me by then. That was fine with me. I had plans for Tuesday night. Poker. And I thought one of my poker regulars might be a good source of information on the legalities of running a Bright Future type of business. My old friend Hal, bright young Berkeley attorney with friends in the D.A.’s office.

I drove back to the canyon thinking about the new information on Smith. Why had he quit his job? Had he been killed to cover up a scam of some sort? Even if Chloe wasn’t trying to lead me astray for sinister reasons, wasn’t it possible that she was indulging in wishful thinking? She had too much of a stake in getting rid of Morton.

So I was pretty preoccupied when I pulled into the canyon lot. I didn’t even notice the car that pulled into the canyon a few seconds after me. I opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind me.

That was when the bullet ripped past my chest.

I dropped to the ground and bellied my way under my Chevy and out the other side. Good old high-riding Chevy. Solid car between me and the man with the gun, for the moment. But he didn’t give me a lot of time to worry. He slammed into reverse and swerved back out of the canyon again. A blue Mercury. And when he was wrestling the wheel around to pull out onto the road, I caught a glimpse of elbow sticking out his open window. I couldn’t be sure of the colors in the night-lighted lot, but the sleeve was definitely plaid, and maybe green and yellow.

I wasn’t about to call the cops— although, for a moment, I thought of the solid presence of Sergeant Ricci, the sheriff’s department detective I’d met on that first day in the canyon— and tell them that Bert Franklin had shot at me because I was investigating a murder they’d already solved. And no one else in the canyon was very likely to call them. Not for one measly gunshot.

I realized I was shaking, so I stood there for a while calming myself down. Then I went back to the other side of the car. The wing window looked like a spider web with a hole in the middle. The bullet must have come close to hitting me. I unlocked the door and got the flashlight out of the dash compartment. I found the little killer lodged in the dash near the radio. It took me a couple of minutes to find it, because my hands weren’t working too well, but I dug it out with a pocket knife and dropped it into my pants pocket. Then I made my wobbly way up the steps to Rosie’s room. I was remembering that, just a little while before, I had been skeptical about someone from Bright Future following Smith to the canyon to kill him.

Rosie must have noticed something when she opened the door.

“Jake? Are you all right?”

I walked past her and collapsed into the easy chair. “Didn’t you hear the gunshot?”

“Yes, and Alice barked. But I thought it was just Hanley. It wasn’t, huh?”

I told her. I also told her what Chloe had said about Smith.

“Well, gee,” she said, “that kind of takes the edge off my news.”

I stared at her. “Sorry,” I said. I was about to get even huffier when I saw the look on her face. She was baiting me, slapping me out of my shakes. Good thing, too. I had an urgent phone call to make. I got up again and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Rosie squeaked.

“Got to call Chloe. Warn her.”

“There’s a phone upstairs. They’re not home.”

Chloe had given me her number, and her address, when we’d made our date for Wednesday night. I dialed it. There was no answer. I waited a few minutes and tried again. This time she picked it up on the fifth ring. She was a little short of breath.

“Are you okay?” I yelled.

“Of course I’m okay.”

“You didn’t answer right away.”

“I was pulling in when I heard the phone.”

I told her what had happened. “And if Franklin was following me he probably saw us together. You’re in danger. Sit tight, I’m on my way.”

“Hold it, Jake. Call the police. Don’t you see how wonderful this is? It will lead them right to Morton.”

I explained that I couldn’t get mixed up with the police. If I did, I might never get a chance to find out who had really killed Smith.

She gave me an argument. “Morton has to be stopped.”

“Then we’ll stop him. I promise. Okay? Now lock up your place and wait for me.”

“Look, Jake, I’m tired and I’m going to bed. There’s no need to run around playing cops and robbers. Morton may be dangerous, but Bert’s just a jerk. I work with him. I know. He got drunk and he tried to scare you off. He probably scared himself even more. I’ve got a dog and I’ve got a gun of my own. I don’t need your protection.”

“Don’t you think you’re carrying this big, strong woman act a little far?”

“No. Don’t you think you’re carrying the big, strong detective act a little far?”

“No!” I barked.

“Then I guess you’d better have a talk with Bert. He’ll be sober tomorrow. See you.” She rang off.

For several minutes, I sat looking at the phone, wondering what to do. I decided to take her word for it and go after Franklin at Bright Future the next day. Which reminded me of the call I’d meant to make to Hal.

As usual, I got his answering machine. I told him what I wanted to know and asked if he could try to get it for me in time for a pre-poker dinner the next night. I told him to leave a yes or no about dinner at Artie’s number. Then I went back down to Rosie’s.

She was posted just inside her open door, with Alice, looking down the steps.

“Standing watch?” I asked.

“Yes. Did you get Chloe?”

I recounted the conversation.

Much to my irritation, Rosie laughed. “There’s a woman who’s used to doing things the way she wants them done. She’ll be okay. Besides, I’m not so sure Morton is the killer, even if some drunk did take a shot at you for threatening his job.” Rosie’s tone, heavy with significance, alerted me.

“You said you had some news, didn’t you?”

“You bet. Although I’m not terrifically happy about it.” I waited for her to finish her dramatic pause. “Bill Smith’s lover Andy was in town that weekend. He was meeting with some friends who have been planning a fund-raiser for his case. He was also talking to his lawyer. They had a new problem to deal with.”

“Rosie, for God’s sake, will you stop teasing me?”

“Okay, but you need some background. See, Andy’s wife has custody of their daughter, and Andy has visitation rights. The child stays with him during vacations and sometimes on weekends.”

I nodded rapidly. “Yeah? So?”

“So, when the ex-wife found out Andy was gay, and, heaven forbid, living with his lover, she petitioned the court to change their custody agreement so Andy would never see the kid at all.”

“And?”

“Well, the court started its investigation— those usually take about a month, and then there’s a hearing where the evidence is presented and the judge makes a ruling.”

“Rosie—”

“I’m getting to it. What happened was this— James Smith offered to give evidence against Andy and Bill. He was going to testify that they were unfit to have a child in their home. He never got the chance.”

This time, when I went to Bright Future, I pulled into the lot. Sure enough, there was a blue Mercury parked right behind the building.

I walked in the door just about the time the receptionist was starting her first cup of coffee.

“Yes, sir?” She smiled professionally. “May I help you?”

“No, that’s okay. He’s expecting me. I’ll run right up.”

Chloe’s secretary wasn’t at her desk. Chloe’s door was closed, but I could hear her talking or dictating. So, she was okay, and she wouldn’t have to have any part of what I was about to do.

I stomped into the editorial office. Bert was sitting at his desk, reading something. The green and yellow jacket was hanging from the back of his chair. When he looked up and saw me, he turned pastier than usual, but he didn’t jump up and attack me or run away or anything. Maybe he was too hung over to move.