Maybe (10 page)

MAYBE CALLS SAM from the lobby and learns he’s on the second floor, room 228.

She’s excited to see Sam. Not because she finds him attractive, or even appealing, but because he adores her so. It allows her to dictate the terms of their relationship. She loves having sexual power over a man, especially a bright, older man like Sam. The fact he’s married adds to the appeal. She’s flattered he prefers her to his wife, and flattered to hear he’s willing to get a divorce to prove his love.

“You look like shit,” she says, when he opens the door.

“You look wonderful,” he says.

She enters, he closes the door, and slides the deadbolt into place.

“I killed Gwen,” she says.

“What?”

She laughs. “Just kidding. But I’ve got a plan, depending on the weapon you’ve brought. I’ve invited her to go shopping with me tomorrow, and—”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Sam says.

“What do you mean?”

“We need to put Gwen on hold.”

“No. I’ve got it all worked out, and you promised me the money.”

“I’ll still give you the hundred grand. It’s just…there’s a different target.”

“I’m not killing Callie Carpenter,” Maybe says.

“Not Callie. A woman from Virginia.”

“What woman?”

“Sherry Cherry.”

“What? Don’t fuck with me, Sam.”

“No, seriously, that’s her name. Look, it’s no big deal. She’s like a housewife or something. It’ll take you five minutes. Five minutes for a hundred grand.”

“Details, please.”

Sam hands her a small metal cylinder. It’s silver, and has the words “Lens Cleaner” printed in black on one side.

“Don’t open it,” Sam says. “It contains a mixture of cyanide and DMSO.”

“What’s that?”

“Dimethyl sulfoxide. You can use this to kill Sherry and Gwen. But you need to do Sherry first.”

Maybe scrunches her nose. “Cyanide’s a poison. What do you do, spray it in her nose?”

“Nose, mouth, eyes, are the best targets. But anywhere on her face will work, if you pump it several times. But be careful. Hold your breath while spraying, and move away quickly. If you do it outside, be sure there’s no wind to blow it back into your face.”

“How long does it take to work?”

“Seconds.”

“Bullshit.”

“I wouldn’t pay you a hundred grand to kill someone, and provide an inferior weapon,” Sam says. “But you can use a gun or knife on Sherry if you’d prefer.”

“I’ll try the spray, but I want a gun with a silencer as a backup,” Maybe says.

“I can arrange that.”

Maybe frowns. “Here’s what I don’t understand. You know all about these poisons. You can arrange for me to get weapons with silencers. Why don’t you meet Sherry Cherry yourself and give her face a quick spray?”

“That would deny you the opportunity to earn an easy hundred grand.”

“You think I like the killing, don’t you?”

“I know you do.”

“What prevents me from spraying you in your sleep tonight?”

“Nothing. But you don’t have to wait for me to fall asleep. You can spray me right now, if it pleases you.”

She looks at the spray bottle. “If this really works, I could kill Callie.”

“Test it on Sherry for a hundred grand. Use it on Gwen or Callie, either one, and I’ll give you another hundred grand.”

Maybe drops the cylinder in her handbag. “What happens now?”

“We make love, and I give you the down payment.”

“How about you give me the down payment first?”

“As you wish.”

He crosses the floor to the closet, opens his carry-on case, removes ten bank envelopes, and hands them to her. She opens them one at a time, noting they’re filled with hundred dollar bills.

“Fifty thousand dollars,” Sam says.

Maybe smiles. “When do I go?”

“I’d like you to go with me first thing tomorrow morning.”

“I can do that.”

“What will you tell your father?”

“I don’t need to tell him anything. He’s in Louisville.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“No. But that’s where he went last night.”

“You haven’t heard from him today?”

“Nope. He thinks I’m staying with Callie.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I said I was going out for the evening and told her not to wait up for me.”

“Good.”

“So, you’re going with me?” she says.

“Yes. I’ll be right by your side when Sherry shows up. But we can discuss the plan after.”

“After we have sex?”

“Yes.”

“What about room service?”

“We can order whatever you want. After sex.”

“What if I don’t want to have sex with you?”

“It’d break my heart, but I’d accept it.”

“I’m glad to hear that, because I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Why not?”

“It would disgust me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She laughs. “It’s easy enough to prove!”

“But I came all this way! I flew six hours with a broken nose and bled all over myself! I haven’t taken any pain killers all day just so I could enjoy your body! Not to mention I just paid you fifty thousand dollars!”

“You said if I didn’t want to have sex with you, you’d accept it.”

“Well, I can’t.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“I was bluffing. I need you.”

“Sex with me is that important to you?”

“Yes, of course!”

“What’s it worth, specifically?”

“What do you mean? You want me to
pay
you for sex?”

“My father pays women for sex.”

Sam considers her comment before saying, “I just gave you fifty grand!”

“That’s for killing Sherry Cherry. Not buying sex.”

“You’d actually charge me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Why?”

“To prove you’re not using me.”

“But you’d be using
me
!”

“I’m okay with that.”

Sam gives her a sullen look. “If that’s the way you feel about it, charge me now.”

“No. I have something else in mind.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to humiliate you.”

He looks bewildered. “I’m sitting here in severe pain with a broken nose. I cried in public today in front of a dozen passengers and crew members and stuffed tampons up my nose, just for the chance to be with you. I’ve pledged my love and received nothing from you in return. You’ve reduced me to begging for sex, and I
have
begged you, and even offered to pay you for it.”

“Your point?”

“You think I’m not humiliated enough already?”

“Not even close.”

Sam sighs. Pretending to be lovesick over a psychotic killer just to punish her father is beginning to test his limits.

“What do I have to do?” he says.

Maybe smiles.

Donovan Creed.

I’M IN LOU’S office, viewing sensitive information he’s uncovered about Darwin’s activities. Every file and document in Lou’s office is classified, so I had to ask Miranda to wait in the lobby.

Here’s the thing about Lou’s information: it’s convincing.

Here’s the problem: it’s too convincing.

For twenty years none of us have been able to find a scrap of information about Darwin. Now, suddenly, Lou has uncovered reams of proof that my old friend, Doc Howard, was monitoring my flights, bugging my office, capturing keystrokes on my office computer, and tracking my movements through my cell phone.

You want to hear the most damning evidence? You’ll love this. Doc Howard had five tiny lights installed in every room on the main floor and basement of his house. Lou and I have had one phone number for Darwin all these years, but they were different numbers. When Lou calls, his name shows up on Doc Howard’s cell phone, and a blue light goes on in Doc Howard’s office and home. When I call, a red light flashes. Lou says if I’ll go with him to Doc Howard’s office and home, he can prove it to me.

I tell him I don’t need to see it.

“Why not?”

“Because I trust you, Lou.”

“Right.”

The real reason is I already knew about Doc Howard’s lights. I’ve been to his house several times. The first time I visited, he showed me how the lights blink when different people call. But they blinked when I called Doc’s number, not Darwin’s. If Doc’s lights are now blinking when I call Darwin, Lou or someone else has had them reprogrammed.

So I don’t buy it.

Doc was a crusty curmudgeon who complained about everything in his life. He ran the infirmary and surgical center at Sensory, and was involved in my facial reconstruction. “Under orders from Darwin,” as Doc put it, he implanted a chip in my brain while I was in a coma. But years later, Doc tipped me off about the chip and taught me how to disable it. For this information he charged me a hundred million dollars.

Lou doesn’t know it was Doc who told me about the chip. Nor is he aware of the financial arrangement I made last year with Darwin and Sal Bonadello, the two people most likely to kill me.

I secretly pay them for protection.

Every month my Swiss bank transfers a multi-million dollar payment to two numbered accounts. One is owned by Sal Bonadello, the other, Darwin. The amount is equal to the monthly interest on two five hundred million dollar certificates of deposit.

If I die, the payments stop.

If Sal dies his payment stops.

If Darwin dies, his payment stops.

So both men have a vested interest in keeping me alive.

I’ll know in a week if the payment to Darwin has been made. If it has, Darwin’s alive. Or at least his eyes are alive. You see, he has to log in with a retinal scan to accept the money.

I don’t believe Darwin would have told me about the chip for any amount of money, because that was his insurance against me. Darwin ordered the chip placed in my brain so he could press a button from anywhere in the world and kill me if I ever became a problem.

Thanks to Doc Howard’s information, I disabled the chip. So I’m having a hard time believing he was Darwin.

Which means Lou killed the wrong man.

“Callie thinks
you’re
Darwin,” I say.

Lou does a double take. “That’s
crazy
! Why would she think that?”

“You and Doc are the two people who claimed Darwin was trying to kill me. And you’re the one who uncovered the evidence against Doc. And you’re the one who killed him.”

“It’s logical I found the evidence,” Lou says. “It’s my research team. Plus, I worked right here in the same building with Doc Howard for more than ten years. If I’m wrong, why was Doc Howard tracking your movements and monitoring your flights? Why would a government surgeon do that?”

“The obvious answer is he wouldn’t. But Callie might remind me that you’re a computer genius. You gave us fake ID’s and wiped our paper trails clean. You’ve doctored our birth certificates and created diplomas and certifications that prove we’re lawyers, doctors, nuclear inspectors, and anything else we need to prove out in the field. For a guy like you, framing Doc Howard would be child’s play.”

“You know damn good and well I’m not Darwin!” he says.

“You’re right.”

Lou looks relieved. “You
do
know?”

“Yes.”

“For certain?”

“Of course.”

“Then please tell me why. I haven’t slept for days, worrying you might come after me.”

“Remember when we did the sting together and stole all that money from Sam Case’s clients?”

He nods.

“You tried to kill me.”

He hangs his head. Then looks up and says, “I don’t understand.”

“You tried to kill me by pumping the air out of the Lucite container.”

“So?”

“I didn’t know it at the time, but Darwin ordered a chip planted in my brain years earlier.”

“When you were in a coma,” Lou says.

“That’s right. If you were Darwin, you would’ve known about the chip. You could’ve killed me instantly by simply pressing a button.”

“Thank God I tried to kill you!” he says.

We look at each other and laugh.

He adds, “Well, you know what I mean!”

I do know. But while I know Lou isn’t Darwin, I also know he can’t be trusted. He may or may not believe Doc was Darwin. He may or may not be helping the real Darwin frame Doc.

Lou says, “You’re having a hard time accepting Doc Howard as Darwin.”

“I’m keeping an open mind.”

“Want to see his death?”

“You have photos?”

“Video.”

As he punches some numbers into his computer I ask, “What, no popcorn?”

“It’s a short clip.”

He’s right. The Doc Howard death video shows Lou killed Doc the old fashioned way. Grabbed him from behind, stuck a syringe in his neck, pushed the plunger.

“Doc and I were very close,” Lou says. “I made sure he didn’t suffer.”

“Why hasn’t his death been announced?”

“I’m rewriting his life.”

“Not just erasing it?”

“No. I want Doc to have the legacy he deserves. It’s easy for us to erase a person’s history. But it takes time to create the proper references, letters, public appearances, contributions, and accomplishments a distinguished man like Doc Howard would have made to the world.”