“It was.”
He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you know why the fans turned on those two guys so horribly?”
Just to keep him talking, Myron shook his head.
“Because those pretty boys pointed out the truth: We are all shallow. Milli Vanilli music was pure crap—and they won a Grammy! People listened to it simply because Rob and Fab were handsome and hip. That scandal did more than rip away the façade. It held a mirror up to the fan’s face and let him see a total fool. There are many things we can forgive. But we can’t forgive those who point out our true foolishness. We don’t like to think of ourselves as shallow. But we are. Gabriel Wire looked brooding and deep but he was anything but. People thought that Gabriel didn’t do interviews because he felt he was too important—but he didn’t give them because he was too dumb. I know I was mocked over the years. Part of me was hurt—who wouldn’t be?—but most of me understood that this was the only way. Once I started, once I created Gabriel Wire, I couldn’t destroy him without destroying me.”
Myron tried to let this information settle. “That’s what you meant with all that talk earlier about Suzze falling for you or falling for the music. About being Cyrano.”
“Yes.”
“But I don’t understand. When you say Gabriel Wire is dead—”
“I mean that literally. Someone killed him. Probably Crisp.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions. When Gabriel killed Alista Snow, Herman Ache saw an opportunity. If they could pull him out of this jam, not only would they get their substantial gambling debt paid, but Wire would owe them for life.”
“Yeah, okay, I got that.”
“So they saved him from the fire. They intimidated witnesses. They paid off Alista Snow’s father. I don’t really know what happened next. I think Wire went a little crazy. He started acting erratically. Or maybe they realized that we really didn’t need him. I could make the music on my own. Maybe they hatched this plan and decided we were better off with Wire dead.”
Myron thought about that. “Seems awfully risky. Plus you guys used to make a mint on the rare concert appearance.”
“But touring was a big risk too. Gabriel wanted to do it more, but using backing tracks got more difficult as time went on, what with all the lip-synching scandals. It wasn’t worth it.”
“So I still don’t get it. Why kill Wire? And for that matter, when?”
“A few weeks after Alista Snow was killed,” Lex said. “First he left the country. That part was true. If they couldn’t clear him, I think Gabriel would have just stayed overseas and become another Roman Polanski or something. He came back when the case against him started falling apart. Witnesses started clamming up. There was no security tape. The last step was for Gabriel to meet with Karl Snow and slip him a bagful of money. Once all that was done, the media and the cops faded away.”
“And then, after all that, Crisp kills Gabriel Wire?”
Lex shrugged. It didn’t make sense.
“You told Suzze all this on the phone?”
“Not all of it, no. I wanted to. See, I knew it would all come out now, what with Kitty back in our lives. I figured that I should tell her first. I wanted to for years anyway and now we were going to have a baby. . . . We needed to get rid of all the lies, all the secrets. You know what I mean?”
“I do. But when you saw that post that said ‘Not His,’ I mean, you knew it wasn’t true.”
“Yep.”
“So why did you run?”
“I told you at Three Downing. I just needed time. Suzze didn’t tell me about the post. How come? She saw it, and man, I knew right away something was wrong. And think about it. When she came to you, she didn’t just want you to find me. She wanted to know who posted the message on the board.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why do you think that was?”
“You think,” Myron said, “that she still held a candle for Gabriel.”
“I don’t think. I know. Suzze didn’t even tell you because, well, would you have gone looking to help her somehow reunite with another man? No.”
“You’re wrong. She loved you.”
“Of course she did.” Lex was smiling now. “Because I was Wire. Don’t you see? So when I saw that post, I mean, the shock of it. I just needed time to figure out what to do. So I came up here and made a little music. And then, like I said before, I called Suzze to tell her the truth. I started by telling her that Wire was dead—that he’d been dead for more than fifteen years. But she didn’t believe me. She wanted proof.”
“Did you see the body?”
“No.”
Myron spread his hands. “So then for all you know, he is alive. Maybe he’s overseas. Maybe he’s disguising himself or living in a commune in Tibet.”
Lex almost laughed at that one. “You believed that nonsense? Oh, come on. We were the ones who spread those rumors. Twice we asked starlets to say that they’d been with him and they agreed just to up their profile. No, Gabriel is dead.”
“How do you know?”
He shook his head. “Funny.”
“What?”
“That’s what Suzze kept asking: How did I know for sure?”
“So what did you tell her?”
“I told her there was a witness. Someone who saw Gabriel’s murder.”
“Who?”
But even before Lex answered, Myron knew. Whom did Suzze call right after she talked to Lex? Who had posted something that made Lex fear the truth would come out? And who, if he took it to the next level, connected all this to his brother?
“Kitty,” Lex said. “Kitty saw Gabriel Wire get killed.”
With the security guard still tied up—and the voices of Myron and Lex Ryder in his ear—Win approached the computers in the downstairs room. The austere décor made sense now. Lex might visit to use the recording studio. Crisp or well-trusted security guards might spend nights. But nobody truly lived here. You could feel that hollowness. The security guard was muscle, an old Ache worker. He knew to keep his mouth shut. But even he didn’t quite know the circumstances. Guards were changed every few months. All understood that the upstairs was off-limits. This particular guard had never seen Gabriel Wire, of course, but he didn’t really question that. He figured that Wire just traveled a lot. Wire was a paranoid recluse, he was told. He was never to approach him. So he never did.
Win had wondered about the lack of security, but now it made perfect sense. “Wire” lived on an island with very few inhabitants, most of whom shunned publicity or craved privacy. Even if there was a breach, even if someone did manage to break into the house, so what? They would find no Gabriel Wire, but what would that mean? Ache, Crisp, and Ryder had concocted enough stories about secret travels and disguises to explain away any absence.
Fairly ingenious.
Win was not much of a computer expert, but he knew enough. With a bit of persuasion the guard had helped him with the rest. Win brought up the passenger manifests. He looked through other files that Crisp had worked on. Crisp was no fool. He would never leave anything incriminating, anything that could be used in court, but Win didn’t worry about court.
When he was done, Win placed three phone calls. The first was to his pilot.
“You’re ready?”
The pilot said, “Yes.”
“Depart now. I’ll signal when it’s okay to land.”
Win’s second call was Esperanza. “Any new developments on Mr. Bolitar?”
Al Bolitar has always insisted that Win call him Al. But Win just couldn’t.
“They just rushed him back into surgery,” Esperanza said. “It doesn’t look good.”
Win hung up again. The third call was to a federal penitentiary in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania.
When Win finished, he sat back and listened to Myron and Lex Ryder. He considered his options, but in truth there was only one. They had gone too far this time. They had brought themselves to the brink, and there was only one way to back away from it.
The security guard’s radio sounded. Through the radio static a voice said, “Billy?”
The voice belonged to Crisp.
Win smiled. That meant Crisp was near. Their big showdown was only minutes away now. Frank Ache had predicted that it would come down to this during the prison visit. Win had joked that he would videotape it, but no, Frank would have to settle for an oral recounting.
Win brought the radio over to the guard. As Win came closer, the security guard began to whimper. Win understood. He took out his gun and put it against the man’s forehead. Overkill, really. The man had already tried to be tough. It hadn’t lasted.
“You probably have a code word that tells Crisp you’re in trouble,” Win said. “If you use it, you will beg me to pull this trigger. Do you understand?”
The security guard nodded, eager to please.
Win put the radio to Billy’s ear and pressed the talk button. He said, “Billy here.”
“Status?”
“All clear.”
“The earlier problem was taken care of?”
“Yes. Like I said, it was the twins. They ran when I came out.”
“I have separate confirmation that they drove off,” Crisp said. “How is our guest behaving?”
“Still upstairs working on that new song.”
“Very good,” Crisp said. “I’m on my way up to the house. Billy?”
“Yes.”
“There’s no reason to tell him I’m coming.”
The conversation ended. Crisp was on his way.
It was time for Win to prepare.
Myron said, “Kitty?”
Lex Ryder nodded.
“How did she know Wire was dead?”
“She saw it.”
“She saw them kill Wire?”
Lex Ryder nodded. “I didn’t know about it until a few days ago. She calls me on the phone and tries to shake me down. ‘I know what you did to Gabriel,’ she says. I figure she’s putting me on. I say, ‘You don’t know squat’ and hang up. I don’t tell anyone. I figure she’ll go away. The next day she posts that tattoo and ‘Not His’ message. Like a warning. So I call her. I tell her to meet me at Three Downing. When I see her, I mean, wow, she’s bad, really wasted. I could have paid her off, I guess, but she’s a full-fledged addict now. Totally unreliable. Buzz ends up calling Crisp and tells him what she’s babbling about. Then you come barreling into the nightclub. During the commotion, I warn Kitty to get the hell out of there and not come back. She said she’s been doing that for sixteen years—since she saw Wire get shot.”
So, Myron thought, Kitty hadn’t been paranoid. She knew a secret that could cost Herman Ache and Evan Crisp millions of dollars. That explained Goatee and Neck Tattoo following him to Kitty’s trailer. Ache had realized that Myron might be able to lead him to Kitty. He had put a tail on him, and once the men located them, their orders were clear: Kill them both.
So why not use Crisp? Obvious answer: Crisp was busy doing something else. Tailing Myron was still something of a long shot. Hire cheaper muscle.
Win was back in his ear. “Are you done up there?”
“Pretty much.”
“Crisp is on his way.”
“You have a plan?”
“I do.”
“Do you need my help?”
“I need you to stay where you are.”
“Win?”
“Yes?”
“Crisp may know what happened to my brother.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Don’t kill him.”
“Well,” Win said. “Not right away.”
31
T
wo hours later, they were back at the small Adiona Island airport, boarding Win’s Boeing Business Jet. Mee greeted them in an aggressively tailored red stewardess uniform topped with a Jackie-O pillbox hat.
“Welcome aboard,” Mee said. “Watch your step, welcome aboard, watch your step.”
Lex trudged up the stairs first. He was finally sobering up and it wasn’t looking good on him. The baby nurse, carrying Lex’s son, followed. That left Myron, Win, and a still-wobbly Evan Crisp. Crisp’s hands were tied behind his back with several plastic cuffs. Win knew that some people could escape plastic cuffs. Few people, if any, could escape several, especially when the larger ones were wrapped around the forearms and the chest. Win backed these up with a gun too. Crisp had taken chances. Win would not.
Myron looked back at Win. “A moment,” Win said.
Mee came back to the door and nodded at Win. Win said, “Okay, now.”
Myron took the lead, half dragging Crisp behind. Win took the rear, pushing Crisp up. Myron had carried him before, fireman-style, but now Crisp was starting to regain consciousness.
Win had bought the luxury aircraft from a once-popular rapper who, like many before him, dominated the charts before becoming a trivia question and being forced to liquidate the fruits of his overspending. The main cabin had oversized leather recliners, plush carpeting, a wide-screen 3-D television, serious wood trim. The plane had a separate dining room, plus a bedroom in the back. Lex, the nurse, and the baby were closed off in the dining room. Win and Myron didn’t want them in the same room with Crisp.
They pushed Crisp into a seat. Win wrapped him in restraints. Crisp was still blinking through the tranquilizer. Win had used a diluted form of Etorphine, a sedative normally used for elephants and potentially fatal to humans. In the movies, sedatives work instantaneously. In reality, it’s hardly a guarantee.
In the end, Crisp had not been indestructible. No one was. As Herman Ache had so poetically put it, no one—not even Myron or Win—was bulletproof. The truth was, when the best were taken, they were normally taken easily. A bomb drops on your house, it doesn’t matter how good your hand-to-hand combat skills are—you’re dead.
From Billy the security guard, Win had learned the path that Crisp took to the Wire estate. Win had found the ideal spot. He came out with two guns—one with real bullets, one with the Etorphine. He didn’t wait. While holding the real gun on him, he shot Crisp with the Etorphine and kept his distance while the man passed out.