The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks (25 page)

“Hooyah,” he said.

“Now I know you’re concussed.” Nick felt over his skull with gentle fingers. “Yep, that’s some knock on the head.”

“I think I kn-kn…know what happened,” Perry told him.

“Yeah?” Nick eased his arm behind Perry’s shoulders. “Did it have to do with falling off a ladder?”

“I don’t think I fell.”

“I think you’re right, Humpty Dumpty. I’m going to pick you up. Don’t freak.”

Perry tensed. “I think my left arm’s broken.”

“Right again.”

“Lucky it’s my left.”

“Yeah. You are one lucky guy. Hang on, this is going to hurt.”

Perry wrapped his good arm around Nick’s shoulders, and Nick lifted him. Perry sucked in his breath and swore into Nick’s shoulder.

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“Hang on.”

Perry said conversationally, “Someone yanked the ladder out from under me.”

“Did you see who?”

Perry shook his head, sucked in a sharp breath and swore into Nick’s neck. “I think I know where the jewels…ouch!”

“If they were in the hanging lamp, they’re gone now.”

Perry didn’t answer, breathing hard and fast against Nick’s damp skin.

“I’m going to set you down here.” Nick followed his words with the action, lowering Perry onto the flat-topped boulder. “I don’t want to move you around a lot after a fall like that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to stay here,” Perry said, not letting go.

Nick hugged him briefly but carefully. “I’ve already called the cops. Nothing is going to happen to you in the five minutes it takes me to phone for an ambulance.”

“Look at what happened to me the last time you left me alone.”

Nick overlooked that. “And then I’ll be back with a blanket because you’re probably going into shock.”

“Great.” Perry said as Nick freed himself gently. Perry tried to cradle his broken arm with his other. “Can you make it fast, because I don’t feel very good.”

“I’m already on my way back,” Nick told him, heading for the door. He opened it.

There was a flash of daylight and a loud bang.

Nick staggered back a couple of steps and sat down in the cold water. He sagged slowly back.

“Nick!” Perry yelled. He half jumped, half fell into the pond and hauled Nick into sitting position. He was heavy, and Perry could use only one arm, but he got his head out of the water, got him braced against his knee.

“Jesus,” Nick gasped. He tried to push himself to his feet but sank back.

There was blood everywhere, unfurling like smoke through the icy water. Perry’s hand felt the obstruction in Nick’s back. Nick’s pistol.

Instinctively, his hand closed on it, but then froze as a voice said, “Stay where you are.

Don’t move.”

Nick, hand clutched to his shoulder, leaned back against Perry. The shadow blocking the doorway slipped inside the icehouse and pulled the door shut. A flashlight caught them in its beam.

Numb with a lethal combination of pain, shock, and cold, Perry’s brain couldn’t seem to slip into gear. His thought process was moving so slowly, so inefficiently. Nick was shot.

He couldn’t take it in. His own arm was killing him.

“He’s bleeding,” he told the shadow.

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“That’s the idea.”

He recognized the voice without any particular surprise.

“Mr. Stein?”

“You should have stayed out of it, Foster,” Stein informed him. “Not that I’m not grateful. I still don’t know how the hell you came up with the idea of looking in the chandelier.”

Nick tried to turn and see Perry. “You found Moran’s stash?”

“I…d-didn’t get to see,” Perry said through chattering teeth.

Stein said, “Yep, it was in the globe of the chandelier. A fortune in jewels and old coins.

It’s not everything, but it’s a good start. Those people knew how to live.” Then he said in a different tone, “You should have taken the hint, Foster. Not dragged your buddy into it.”

Perry said stupidly, “The hint?”

“The dead bird,” Nick got out between clenched teeth. “That was a warning. A little present from Stein.”

“Nope,” Stein said, “The dead bird was Tiny’s idea. He found it after the storm, and he put it in your room as a warning. Not bad for a retard.”

“T-Tiny was in on this?” Now that was truly hard to imagine -- Stein partnering up with Tiny. Perry wrapped his hand around the butt of the gun. Nick’s body shielded his actions from Stein, but he was never going to be able to use the pistol. Never.

Stein snorted. “Tiny thought he was helping me in undercover work. Hamburger for brains, that one.”

“But you heard him talking to Perry and me, and you couldn’t trust him not to blab to the real police,” Nick said breathlessly. He shifted a little against Perry, and Perry knew he was expecting him to take the pistol. And do what? If he could give it to Nick, it would be one thing…maybe he could drag Nick onto solid ground…

He inched back, and Stein barked, “Don’t move, I said!”

“We’re freezing.”

“Not for long.”

Nick grated, “Come on, Stein. How the hell are you going to explain this?”

“I won’t have to explain. Who would I have to explain to? Teagle’s locked in his room with his porn collection, Mrs. Mac fled to her sister’s in Burlington, the Bridger broad and the psychic snuck away last night. The whole mansion is going up in flames tonight, starting with this place. Everyone keeps saying it’s a death trap.”

“Come off it,” Nick said. “The cops aren’t as dumb as you think.”

“No one knows cops better than me, and these dumb hicks are going to blame the entire thing on that whack job Dembecki.”

“Nobody is going to believe Miss Dembecki shot us,” Perry said.

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“Why not? She’s got a gun. She’s got Shane Moran’s gun. A family heirloom. Bet you didn’t know she was Moran’s great-grandniece, did you? The old bat’s been looking for his loot longer than I have.”

“There’s no way you can get away with such a crazy --”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be long gone. A new name, a new identity. I know just how to pull it off.”

“Somebody’s probably called the cops already,” Perry said. “A quiet morning like this, shots carry. Miss Dembecki has probably called the cops.”

Stein laughed. “You’d better talk to your buddy about that one.”

Nick said between clenched teeth, “So why did you kill him? The P.I. Raymond Swiss.”

Stein made an aggravated noise. “Would you believe that was an accident,” he said. “A total goddamned accident. I bumped into him as I was coming out the secret passage that lets out onto the staircase. He fell down three flights and landed right in front of that moron Tiny.” They could hear the shrug in his voice. “That’s the kind of luck I have. Or had.

Everything’s changing now.”

“Why did you put him in my tub?” Perry asked. They had to keep Stein talking. He needed time to figure out what to do…

“Tiny said you were gone for the week, so I thought we’d stash him there while I figured things out. I didn’t want to take a chance on Teagle stumbling across him while he was prowling through the back passage.”

“And then I came back early.” I can’t do this, Perry thought, his hand shaking as he eased the gun from Nick’s waistband. Even if I could hit Stein, which I can’t -- that little circle of light? I can’t shoot someone. I can’t…

If I miss, he’ll shoot us both. Now. Immediately. We’ll be dead.

Nick asked Stein something else, but Perry’s entire concentration was on the weight of the pistol in his shaking hand.

If I could pass the gun to Nick, he thought again.

But if Nick made a move Stein would shoot. He saw -- rightly -- Nick as the threat.

Nick’s breathing sounded weird. Tremors rippled through his body. Shock was

probably the least of his problems. He was bleeding to death -- freezing to death. And he couldn’t do anything but count on Perry to do this, to save them.

Perry felt with his thumb for the safety.

The barrel was wet. Would it even fire?

Nick, game but weakening -- still stalling for time -- said, “Why didn’t you just dump him in the woods after dark?”

And Perry brought the MK23 up and fired at the pinpoint of light. There was a huge explosion, and Perry fell back on his ass. Nick submerged into the water.

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There was another bang. Perry kept firing. He could hear Nick splashing around. The rock next to him exploded and flying slivers cut his cheek, his brow.

He tried to get a better line on Stein, slipped in the mud, and his head went under the water. He could see flashes of light as Stein fired back.

And then the gun was yanked out of his hand. A fist fastened in his collar, and he was yanked up, coughing and choking.

“Perry? Perry! Are you hit?”

He’d breathed in water so he couldn’t talk. Nick was dragging him back behind the jutting teeth of rocks -- out of the mud and water. Together they crawled -- sloshed --

behind cover. He could hear someone swearing and crying. It wasn’t Nick. It wasn’t himself.

Stein?

He heaved in breath and let it out as Nick half collapsed on top of him.

“Go for the passage,” Nick gasped.

“Not without you.”

Nick’s voice cracked on something between a sob and a laugh. “What, are you crazy?

I’m not staying,” he said. “I’m right behind you.”

Staying down behind the rocks, they crawled for the passage. Stein fired into the wall, and it was all Perry could do to keep moving.

He felt around for the latch and then found it at last, pressing on what appeared to be one of the beams in the wall. The door swung open and they scuttled through, Perry holding fast to Nick with his good arm. Nick’s blood was soaking into his side.

“How bad are you hit?” He gulped. “You should stay still. You’re losing blood.”

“Move it,” Nick panted. “I’ll lose more blood if he catches us.” He turned and fired a couple of rounds at the entrance behind them.

The stairs were ahead. Perry’s breath was catching in his chest, he wheezed desperately helping Nick.

Somehow they made it up the stairs and then staggered down the passage to bobbing lights that were coming toward them swiftly.

It’s the light at the end of the tunnel, Perry thought woozily and closed his eyes.

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Nick hated hospitals, and he had signed the Against Medical Advice form practically as soon as he could sit up. He was not in any shape to pack and leave for California, of course, and in any case there were a number of things he had to take care of first -- not the least of which was signing for the cops his statement regarding the recent violent events at the Alston Estate.

Perry did not enjoy hospitals, but since -- in addition to his broken arm, cracked ribs, and concussion -- he had developed a mild case of pneumonia, he was relieved to find himself in a hospital surrounded by lots of starchy personnel. He felt safe there.

When Nick came to see him -- interestingly pale for Nick and with his arm in a sling, but still somehow looking alive and vital and very tough -- Perry managed a two-finger salute and a flicker of a smile. He fell almost immediately back to sleep -- not sure if Nick really did sit down next to his bed or if he dreamed it.

There was nothing to be afraid of any more. He was alive. Nick was alive. Nothing else seemed very important.

The police came and took his statement and then went away again.

Perry began to feel better. He began to worry about the fact that he was in the hospital without health insurance and that his vacation was now over, and that Nick would be leaving soon. Maybe Nick was already gone?

But then Nick came to see him again.

“How are you doing?” he asked briskly. He smelled like the wintery outdoors and like his herbal soap -- a nice change from the antiseptic smells of the hospital.

“Good,” Perry said, although he looked wan and uncomfortably elfin in Nick’s opinion.

Perry nodded to the enormous fruit basket on the cabinet by the bed. “Have an apple.”

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Nick examined the basket. There was no return address, but the card said, Wish me luck. And I’ll wish you the same. Janie.

That reminded him, and he brought Perry up to speed on what was happening at the Alston Estate. Poor Miss Dembecki had been sent to a state mental hospital, Jane and David Center had disappeared back into the Witness Protection Program, and Mrs. Mac was advertising for new tenants.

Perry asked carefully, “Is Stein… I didn’t kill him or anything?”

“Nah, he’ll be arraigned as soon as he gets out of the hospital.” Nick grinned briefly.

“You shot him twice, and you managed not to hit a vital area. You’re either one hell of a marksman or the worst shot in the world.”

“It’s hard when they shoot back,” Perry said.

“Yeah.”

“Was Miss Dembecki really Shane Moran’s niece?”

“Yeah. Apparently she grew up on legends of her infamous great-great-uncle. The story is a couple of Moran’s gang got away, and after Moran was killed, they went to his sister and told her that Verity Lane was in on the whole heist. Moran left the jewels with her, she hid them -- nobody but she knew where apparently -- and then the plan was she was going to run away with Moran. But he was killed and she had some kind of breakdown and that was apparently that. She left her husband and moved to France and apparently never thought of the jewels again.

“Wow. How did Mr. Stein get involved?”

“He’s not talking.”

Nick was already prowling restlessly around the room, clearly impatient to be on his way. Perry asked, striving to keep his voice neutral, “When are you leaving?”

“A couple of days. Right after Christmas.”

Perry nodded.

“I’ll have to come back for the trial,” Nick told him, and Perry smiled.

“That’s true.”

Nick took another turn around Perry’s half of the bare little room and then said, “I called your folks.”

“You…”

Nick avoided Perry’s gaze. “I got the number from Mrs. Mac, and I called them. They had a right to know.”