Gray Area (19 page)

“It always is,” Turner said.  “You okay, Lou?”

“Worse than ever, thanks for asking.”

Turner was about to chuckle in commiseration, but Diamond hung up
abruptly.

Diamond continued to mull over the personnel history of Jason Randall. He
had finished with the Arc-Link research fifteen minutes earlier.  Any more
intel on that subject would hopefully come from Turner’s contacts and further
research a little later.  For now, Jason took up his complete attention.

Randall had graduated with honors from Harvard.  A superstar,
destined for greatness.  Nothing that would indicate he’d be targeted six
years later for assassination. 

He was about to go through the personnel file on Linda Baylor when
Marshall appeared at the doorway of Records.  Diamond could see that
Marshall was stunned.

“Kind of early, isn’t it, Marshall?” Diamond said. “Saturday and all?”

Marshall’s tone of voice was low, feral ... and afraid.  “What are
you doing here?”

Diamond closed the personnel folder on Linda Baylor.

“I’m here trying to put together some pieces to a puzzle that, I have to
say, I’m sorry I ever got involved with,” Diamond replied.

Marshall nodded.  “Starting now, you’re free of that puzzle. 
You’re fired.”

Diamond stared blankly at his brother.  Why didn’t this surprise
him?  Still, the question needed to be voiced.  “Why?”

“Don Simpson is dead,” Marshall said tonelessly.

Diamond’s jaw tightened and he closed his eyes and nodded.  They
killed him, he thought.  The same people who killed Randall, August and
almost himself.

“The hospital called me at home.  They say it looks like
suicide.  Used a scalpel, cut his own throat.  Guess murdering his
wife and lover must have been too much for him to bear.”

Diamond held his brother’s gaze, but said nothing.

“You’re twenty thousand dollars richer, brother,” Marshall said, suddenly
at ease again.  “I’m paying you in full today.  Go take a vacation.”

Marshall turned away, and Diamond was on him.  He shoved the bigger
man against the wall, fairly snarling.

“I’ve had a bad fucking night, Marshall,” he said in a harsh
whisper.  “After our little chat, I went to visit Robert August. 
Want to know what I found?”

“I was told,” Marshall said evenly. “They also found a substantial cache
of drugs, I believe.”

“Your firm is building up a nice little body count and you’re not even
flustered,” Diamond said, digging deliberately, and not releasing his hold on
his brother.

“Come on, Lou.  Robert August had nothing to do with Jason’s or
Marianne’s death.  It’s a freak coincidence.”

Lou almost laughed at this.  “Who are you kidding?”

Marshall’s eyes bore into those of his brother.  “Walk away,
Lou.  It’s over and you’re finished here.”

“Is it the mob?” Diamond asked.

“Lou, come on.  Enough is enough—”

“What is Arc-Link Industries?”

This gave Marshall pause.  His chin jutted out defiantly and Diamond
knew that he had hit a nerve.

“They’re one of our clients.  Why are you asking?”

“I’ve seen the copies of the letters and memoranda with your name, Linda
Baylor’s name and two dead attorneys who don’t need to be mentioned.”

“Lou, don’t dig any further.  Please.”

Something in his brother’s voice disturbed Diamond.  It was a plea,
more than a command or even a request.

“Your people are being murdered, Marshall.  Systematically. 
And someone is trying to make damn sure that I never finish this
investigation.  I want to know why.”

Marshall turned away and swallowed hard. 

“Walk away from this,” he said with difficulty.  “Today, Lou. 
I’m sorry I ever brought you in.  If you go now, things will work
out.  It’s that simple.”

“It’s never that simple, Marshall,” Diamond said, his anger
seething.  “Why
did
you hire me, anyway?”

“I wanted you to wrap this up.  Quickly.  It was an open and
shut case.  I didn’t expect you to dig—”

“You’re right, brother,” Diamond interrupted, putting both hands up in an
expression of surrender.  “It looks that simple.  All the ends are
neatly tied up.  Don Simpson, husband to Marianne, conveniently kills
himself after apparently murdering Jason and his wife the night before. 
August, ostensibly a crack dealer, was possibly working with a powerful drug
cartel who suddenly decided he was a liability.”

Diamond paused and walked to within an inch of his brother’s face. 
“Except you and I,” he said in a whisper, “both know it’s not that
simple.” 

Diamond let that sit.  When Marshall didn’t reply, he turned to
leave.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the shooter, Marshall,” he
said without inflection.  “Or master ringleader of whatever the fuck-scam
you’re running here.”

“Why would I try and kill you, too?” Marshall asked.  “My own
brother?”

Diamond smiled.  An ugly smile. 

“I don’t know … brother.  But then again … I don’t know you. 
Maybe I never did.”

Both brothers remained perfectly still, silenced by this last statement
of irrevocable truth.  Finally, Diamond turned on his heel and walked out.

TWENTY-SIX

Again, he should have gone home.  He was running on fumes and he
knew his judgment had passed stinky hours ago.  So why was he now pulling
up in front of Linda Baylor’s house for the second time in what was only a
matter of hours?

Good question.  But no good answer.

He walked up to the door and knocked, yelling as well. 

“Linda!”

The early morning mist off the Pacific Ocean tasted salty in Diamond’s
mouth and he moved the collar of his coat closer around his neck.  It
always seemed to get colder out here on the beach with the arrival of
dawn. 

Diamond did not knock again.  He knew his way around Linda’s house
sufficiently to know there were other entrances and exits.  He moved
around the garden gate and down a cobblestone path that paralleled the side of
the house and had a rather sheer drop of forty feet to the beach below. 
He reached the far end terrace and looked into the living room.

The back terrace door, not surprisingly, was left ajar.  Diamond
slid it open and walked in.

A fire was roaring in the stone chimney, well stoked and fresh. 
Diamond guessed it was maybe ten minutes old.  He thought about calling
out again but figured, why bother?  Linda was definitely in the house and
had probably heard him calling for her the first time around.  Part of her
game, he knew … and by now, he felt he was coming to know Linda Baylor very,
very well indeed.

He walked over to a desk that was strewn with papers.  He also
noticed an open notebook—a diary, more likely, Diamond thought.  He read
the last few sentences:

Perhaps tonight is the night that it all ends.

For better or for worse …

Feeling like he was prying, Diamond pulled himself away from the journal
and continued scanning the room.

He walked to the fireplace.  The warmth was comforting, and Diamond
suddenly felt enervated, exhausted.  He sat in one of two identical
reclining leather chairs, facing the fireplace, and glanced around at the array
of knickknacks on the various end tables.  Small seals, some stone, others
wood, many ceramic or porcelain, congregated on each table.  He picked one
up.

“Hey, little fella,” he said drowsily.

A picture of a little girl stood near the end of the table next to him,
the frame no larger than the face of an alarm clock.  Diamond reached for
it, knocked over two seal knickknacks in the process, and shattered one on the
floor.

“Shit,” he muttered.  Come in and destroy the furniture, he
thought.  Linda would love him for that. 

The head of the shattered seal was in two pieces and was beyond
repair.  He put the pinniped casualty back on the table, then returned to
the picture of the girl.

She looked to be the same age of his own daughter.  Blonde hair and
blue eyes, with a smile that was filled with mirth.  Diamond leaned back
in his chair, his eyelids as heavy as baby dinosaurs.  The little girl,
nowhere near as sleepy, stared back at him.  Diamond felt himself smile
back.

The image began to fade and was suddenly replaced with the face of his
own daughter.  She was on the roof of a building, directly ahead of
him.  Running, laughing and heading right for him.  Her arms were
extended.  For some reason, he was on his knees.  He felt his own
arms outstretched to receive her.

“Daddy!” Sonia called out. 

Suddenly, horrifically, the man he had shot on the roof earlier that
night materialized out of thin air.  A girder impaled his chest and now he
fell in front of Sonia.  She screamed in terror, but the worst part was
that the man was not yet dead!  He grinned sardonically and began to
laugh, further terrifying his daughter.

Diamond felt powerless.  He tried to scream, but nothing happened—no
sound, no gurgle, zip.  The man reached out and grabbed Sonia.

He woke up, drenched in his own sweat.  The fire billowed before
him, an unconscious entity of swirling heat.  The face of a little girl
stared back at him.

“Hi,” the face suddenly had a voice.

Diamond realized he had drifted off and that he’d had an old fashioned
nightmare.  He looked at the little girl, blinking, his eyes trying to
find some kind of focus.  He recognized her from the picture, the frame of
which was now lying in his lap.  She reached for the picture and frowned
as she considered her own image, then replaced it next to the decapitated seal
knickknack.

“You broke a seal,” she said petulantly. 

Caught, you big bad seal breaker, he thought.   He nodded, and
swallowed with difficulty.  “Yeah.  Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, giggling. “Mommy has a thousand of them.”

Diamond sat up in his chair, checked his watch.  He’d been dozing
for around twenty minutes. 

“You’re the nice man, aren’t you?” the little girl asked.

“Nice man?”

“The one mommy likes.”

Diamond smiled at this.  “What’s your name, honey?”

“Patsy.  What’s yours?”

“I’m Lou.  Seal Breaker King.”

She giggled and he laughed.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” Linda said from behind him.

Diamond turned and considered Linda, dressed in an elegant nightgown that
draped her body to perfection.

“I should have gone home,” he said mechanically.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Linda smiled as Patsy came over and hugged a
thigh.  She looked down at the child, her hand running through the thick
curly hair.  “And just what are you doing up so early, young lady?”

“Heard a noise, mommy,” Patsy replied, and pointed at Diamond.  “It
was him.”

“I heard him, too.  Noisy devil, isn’t he?” Linda said, grinning at
Diamond.

“Sorry,” Diamond offered feebly.  “Maybe I should leave.”

“Don’t be silly,” Linda said. “I’ll make coffee.”

Patsy walked over to Diamond, and put two hands on his forearm, staring
seriously into his eyes.  “I like you, too, Lou.”

She turned and ran up the stairs, not looking back.

Diamond watched until she disappeared, then nodded ruefully at
Linda.  “Glad I have her approval.”

“She doesn’t like most people,” Linda said.  “Consider yourself
privileged.”

At the moment the only thing Diamond was feeling was the fatigue of the
past 48 hours.  His expression must have translated itself clearly because
Linda put a hand on his shoulder.

“Why don’t you keep on napping,” she said.  “Coffee will take some
time.”

“No, I came here for a reason,” he objected.

“I know.  And we’ll get to that.  Rest now,” Linda insisted,
and Diamond was surprised how easy that command was to follow.  He leaned
back in the chair, his eyes again weighing well over a thousand pounds.

“Just a few minutes,” he muttered.

And then his world went dark.

When he checked his watch, he was surprised, really surprised, to see
that he had slept for three hours.  The sun streamed through the terrace
windows and from somewhere off in the distance he could hear a child’s
laughter.

Linda was nowhere to be seen.  Diamond hauled himself out of the
leather chair and approached the terrace door. 

“Well, good morning,” Linda said. 

Diamond turned to his right.  Linda was leaning against the wall,
near the terrace door, sipping coffee.  She reached over to a side table
and poured another cup.

“Milk, sugar?”

Diamond couldn’t immediately find words and was convinced nothing more
than a grunt came out of his mouth, but apparently it was sufficient for Linda
to nod and hand him the cup.  He sipped the hot liquid and felt instantly
revitalized.

He looked out to the distant surf and could see Patsy playing a very
serious game of “How Close Can I Get To The Water Without Getting Wet.” 
The waves lapped and teased at her feet but she was generally pretty successful
in dodging them.

“I got pregnant in my third year of law school,” Linda began.  “I
shouldn’t have, but I wanted to keep the baby.  She’s my life now.”

“And the father?” Diamond asked, the coffee performing small miracles in
his bloodstream.

“A mistake of youth.  Mine, not his,” Linda quickly corrected. 
“I didn’t even get his last name.  I knew that I didn’t want any baggage
in my life and a full time man would have been exactly that.  An anchor.”

Diamond continued staring out at Patsy, who turned and waved at
him.  He waved back.

“We’d do anything for them, wouldn’t we?” Linda said.

“Who?”

“Our children,” she said, looking at him, covering her eyes from the
brutal morning sun.