The Bookman's Promise (25 page)

I eased back toward the stairs, felt my way down, and stood under the house listening. I could hear her up there pacing. She was nervous. Whatever she was here for, the outcome was far from certain. And me, I had only two choices: announce myself or drop back into surveillance. Take the option while you’ve got one, I thought, and surveillance felt right on second guess. But cover your ass, Janeway. Get the car in case you need it.

By then it was quite dark: My cover was as good as it gets, so I walked away from the house, down the beach to the inlet, through the dunes, and up to the road where the car was parked.

A minute later I pulled into Archer’s street and parked in front of the house. It didn’t matter much where I parked: there were other cars along the road and my rental slipped in nicely among them. Archer would have no reason to know that I was within six hundred miles of here.

Nothing was happening on this side of the house. Erin had confined herself to that beachfront room and I played it boringly safe for now.

An hour passed. I watched the clock, imagining Koko tearing her hair.

Of all the jobs I had done as a cop I had always hated surveillance. It’s bad enough when you have a partner to talk to; alone, it’s a killer. But I waited, slumped in my seat, only my eyes moving from the road to the house and back again.

He finally came at ten-thirty. I saw his lights far down the road and I got down deep in my seat. Gradually his lights washed over my car and went away as he turned into his drive. I eased up and looked over the edge of the window. He had pulled under the house and his taillights shone out at the road. I heard the door slam and saw his shadow moving around to the beachfront steps.

When he had gone into the house I got out of my car and walked up the drive. I stopped at his car and opened one of the doors, just enough for the momentary flash of light to confirm the ‘83 Pontiac, two-tone blue. The literary lion had come home to his den. Now came the tricky part: getting close enough to learn something useful without getting caught.

Again I went up the stairs and across the porch. I stood flattened against the wall, two feet from the open window, but so far nothing was going on: no sounds, not even a hint of talk from some other room.

Suddenly the door opened and Erin stepped out. I held my breath. If she moved away from the house or went even partway to the edge of the porch, she couldn’t miss seeing me when she turned around. But a sound drew her back into the room and I heard Archer say, “These goddamn airlines, it’s getting so I hate to fly. How was your flight?”

“It was okay. It got me here.”

“I guess I’m lucky mine was only two hours late. Did you have any trouble finding the key?”

“Right where you said.”

I heard him move again, coming closer to the window: then the clink of a bottle on glass. “How about a drink?”

“Only if it’s a very short one, please.”

“Name your poison.”

“Gin and tonic.”

I heard the sound of pouring and ice. Someone sat down, probably Archer, in the easy chair just to the left of the window. “Come on, Erin,” he said. “Relax.”

I pictured them looking at each other over their drinks, fencing with their eyes.

“Cheers,” Archer said.

A moment passed.

“Do you want to get down to cases now?” Erin said.

It had begun pleasantly enough but suddenly the mood got darker. Archer said, “
I’ll
tell
you
when I do. I’ll tell you how it’s going to go too.” There was no missing his intent: he was putting her in her place, letting her know who was boss.

“What’s wrong with you?” he said. “You fly all the way from Denver and now you act like you can’t wait to get out of here. Do I really bother you that much?”

It took her a moment to answer that. “I wouldn’t drive you around if you did, would I?”

“As a matter of fact I’ve been wondering about that. The night of Lee’s party, for example, how it came to be you who picked me up.”

“You found that unusual?”

“Considering how we parted after my book tour a few years ago.”

She said nothing.

“I should apologize for my lack of manners back then,” he said.

“There’s no need for that.”

“What if I feel a need?”

“Don’t, please. It’s not necessary.”

“You must like having that to hold over my head. Does it empower you having seen me in a bad light? Do you think you’ll get a better deal that way?”

“Let’s just talk business, Hal.”

“I am talking business and you’re starting to make me angry again. Do you think it’s easy for a man like me to apologize? About anything?”

“Look, Hal…I told you before, we’re fine.”

“But you’re lying, precious. Besides, maybe you’re not so fine with me.”

“If that’s the case, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry, all right. Because now I’ve got something you want.”

“Which we haven’t even seen yet. I don’t know whether this was written by Richard Burton or the man in the moon.”

This was followed by another awkward silence. Then Archer said, “I’m not gonna give anything away. You’re good-looking, precious, but not that good,” and the tone changed again.

“You know what?” Erin said. “I’ve just decided I’m not in the mood for this.”

“Now
there’s
the Erin I know. She takes no prisoners. She goes straight for the gonads.”

“Do you want to talk or not?”

“I don’t know, what’s your offer?”

“You know what the offer is.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Then let’s hear your counteroffer.”

“Double it for starters. And you be a lot nicer than you have been. A lot,
lot
nicer.”

“That’s not going to happen, Hal.” “What isn’t?”

“Either condition. Double would be five times what anybody else would pay. And I will be civil and professional and that’s all you’ll ever get from me. I hope we’re clear at least on that.”

“Don’t put too high a premium on it, sweetheart. It’s just possible that I wouldn’t want anything you’ve got.”

“Then we’re making progress. We have our first item of agreement.”

“You really are one cold, calculating bitch.”

“Another comment like that and I’m on the next flight back to Denver.”

“So who’s stopping you?”

I heard her get up. She moved across the room and came toward the door.

Incredulous, he said, “You’d actually walk out of here? With all that’s at stake…”

“You’ve got a lot more at stake than I do. And the answer is yes. Keep a civil tongue in your head or I’m gone.”

He laughed without amusement. “You really are something else.”

She waited.

“All right, let’s talk,” he said.

She sat. “Start with the offer you’ve got. It’s already generous, as I’m sure you know.”

“That’s your opinion. How much is a lifetime worth? And let’s dispense with the notion that doubling it would be five times anything. There’s no telling what something like this would sell for in a well-publicized auction.”

“I’ve looked at recent auction records.”

“There are no auction records for this and you know it.”

Silence. Finally he said, “We’re talking unique, precious.”

“Maybe it’s so unique it doesn’t exist. You haven’t shown me anything yet.”

Archer laughed. “Now who’s wasting time?”

“Then show it to me. I’ll have to see it anyway, before anything real can happen.”

“Let’s get in the same ballpark first. If I put this at auction it’ll go through the roof.”

“It could also go for much less than you think.”

“Then call me on it.”

More silence.

“I didn’t think so,” Archer said.

“Not to beat a dead horse, but there are reasons why I don’t want this to become public.”

“That’s why you’re going to pay me, isn’t it, precious?”

“I can go up some. Not a lot. Certainly not double.”

“That’s too bad. Double’s where I start.”

“You’re wasting your time. And don’t call me precious again.”

I could almost see him shaking his head when he laughed. “I’ll bet you are one tough cookie in court, cookie.”

“You don’t want to find out.”

“That sounds like a threat. Are you threatening me, Erin?”

“Just agreeing with you.” She sighed suddenly and said, “We’re getting nowhere.”

Abruptly she got up: I heard her walk across the room. “Thanks for the drink. It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to do business but it’s always
such
a pleasure seeing you.”

“You can’t bluff me.”

Her voice was hard now. “This isn’t a bluff,
precious
. I’ll negotiate within reason but I haven’t heard anything out of you yet that sounds reasonable. By the way, the offer will only be good through noon Saturday. If I have to go back to Denver without a deal, all bets are off.”

“I’m quaking in my boots.”

“Don’t quake yourself out of a small fortune, Hal.” She moved across the room. “If this doesn’t go well you could lose it all. This way you get your money and nobody’s any wiser.”

“Erin, my goodness, that sounds like you’re talking tax-free money to boot.”

“That’s not what I’d advise if I were your lawyer.”

“But the IRS won’t hear about it from you.”

“No.”

She moved closer to the door. “Sleep on it but don’t forget where I’m staying. Once I’m gone, I’m gone.”

“I want to talk to Lee.”

“I don’t think so, Hal. That’s a bridge you’ve burned pretty badly in recent days.”

“I know him better than you do. He’ll talk to me.”

“Don’t try to take either of those presumptions to the bank. I know Lee pretty well too. He’s angry and he’s wounded. He thought you were his friend. He’s been a friend of yours all his life and this is what he gets for it.”

I could feel the heat of the passing moment. Erin said, “I’m just telling you. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can get too high-handed with us, just because I came all the way out here.”

“We’ll see about that,” Archer said. “Maybe I’ll call you. Maybe

I won’t.“

“Don’t cut it too short. I’m not about to miss my plane for any more games. You’ve got to show me something or this whole deal may fall apart.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

She moved to the door. I heard him say, “Erin,” buying me just enough time to slip down off the porch.

From the bottom of the stairs I heard her say, “What now?”

“Go fuck yourself,” he said.

I barely made it to the ground before she came out and started down the stairs. I dropped into the sand under the house and lay there. She got into her car and backed out toward the street.

What now, indeed? These are the times when you wish you could split yourself in two.

I abandoned Archer and hustled after her. She was still in sight on the long, straight road, and it was easy to follow her back into town.

She turned south off the bridge onto Meeting Street. For a few moments it looked like we might be staying at the same hotel: she kept going that way and I stayed close on her tail. We reached Cal-houn Street just a few car lengths apart and I stopped behind her at a red light on Wentworth.

The light changed. She went on past the Heart of Charleston and across Queen Street to the Mills House, a classy old-world hotel rebuilt in its antebellum excellence, where, according to Koko’s guidebook, Robert E. Lee had stood on the original balcony and watched the city burn.

She handed her keys to a valet and disappeared inside. I parked on the street and hurried up to the door. She was standing in the marbled surroundings just a few feet inside, reading some brochure on a table. From the street I could see no sign of a front desk; just a small room off to my right and a hint of a lobby around the corner to the left. What now? I knew if I let her disappear I might not see her again till I got back to Denver, but how would I confront her? I made the following decisions, all within seconds. I would speak to her now; act as if I had encountered her here by the most incredible chance. She would know better but that didn’t matter; at the moment I was looking only to break the ice and get us going.

This wasn’t great but in another moment she would go upstairs and the opportunity would be lost. I opened the door and followed her around to the desk. The clerk saw me at once: a street person, he’d be thinking, surely not one of ours. His eye went up, looking for the bellboy or the concierge.

“May I help you, sir?”

“I’m just the ghost of Robert E. Lee. Have you seen my horse?”

His scrutiny turned to alarm: not only was I a street person, I was a crazy one. But Erin had also turned at the sound of my voice. Her face showed a flash of surprise, which she bypassed at once. Deadpan, she said, “I saw a horse outside. What’s his name?”

“Traveller. He’s a big ugly stud with an attitude.”

“Can’t help you. The one I saw was a gentle sweetie named Buttermilk.”

“I
scorn
such horses! That horse belongs to Dale Evans—only lets herself be ridden sidesaddle. Can you imagine what would happen if I rode sidesaddle into Gettysburg?”

“The North would win in one day instead of three.”

She was quick but I knew that. She was also tense: I couldn’t see that on her but I sensed it. She cocked her head and said in a soft voice, barely audible, “Six thousand lives would be saved.”

The voice of the clerk cut across the room. “Do you know this gentleman, Ms. D’Angelo?” he said, and she smiled with a kind of comic disdain. “I’m afraid so. Don’t throw him out yet, let’s hear what he has to say for himself.” She came toward me but stopped after a couple of steps. “What are you doing here, Janeway? What happened to your face?”

“I break out like this once in a while. Where can we find a place to talk?”

“Our lounge is still open for a while yet.” The clerk looked immediately sorry that he had volunteered that but she thanked him and we settled in the lounge. The game began again.

“So what’re
you
doing here?” I said.

“I asked you first.”

“I needed a change of scenery after you dumped me and told me that fib about going off into the wilderness. I stuck a pin in a map and this is where I came.”

“I didn’t dump you and I didn’t fib. Something else came up.”

“A better offer,” I sniffed. “So you went to the mountains where there isn’t even a honey bucket to pee in, you planned to be gone at least a week, yet somebody managed to track you down and drop a bunch of new work on you.”

“That’s about the size of it.”

I shook my head. “You really need to quit that job.”

“I won’t argue with you about that. But there’s no way Water-ford, Brownwell or God would’ve lured me down after the agonies of Rock Springs. I’m on a mission for a friend.”

“Anybody I know?”

“Can’t talk about it. The friend is also a client.”

“And you don’t talk about a client’s affairs.”

“Especially not to very strange people who wander in off the street. Besides being ethically shaky, it’s not a good idea for practical reasons.”

“Oh, I do understand. I’m here for a client as well, so I can’t talk about it either.”

“You have clients?”

“Sure. You’re not the only one who knows how to pad an expense account.”

“Well, shucks,” she said. “That doesn’t leave us much to talk about.”

In other words, the ball was in my court. I said, “Maybe we can still find some area of mutual interest. Something that violates everybody’s confidence but nobody knows where it came from. How about Richard Burton and his trip through here just before the Civil War?”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Maybe.” I leaned across the table, serious now. “Actually, I’m pretty good at keeping secrets, Erin. When I was a cop I sometimes had life-and-death situations that depended on me being able to keep my mouth shut.”

“Which means what? Just because you’re not the world-class blabbermouth you seem to be, that doesn’t relieve me from the ethical reality of protecting my client’s business.”

“‘Well, shucks’ is right, then. How’s your drink?”

“Gin and tonic is like small talk. It’s pretty much the same all over.”

“So when do you go home?”

“Saturday afternoon. How about you?”

I shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. Might be weeks yet. We may never get to have that date.” I took a sip of my drink and played a card. “It can take a while to track down a killer.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it for a minute.”

She furrowed her brow and said, “Hmmm,” to good comical effect.

“Think hard about who was killed in the last week or two. It’ll come to you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you know how to spell
Denise
?”

That got to her. “You don’t mean Mrs. Ralston?”

“The late Mrs. Ralston.” I was watching her eyes, which never wavered. “It was in the Denver papers.”

“I went to the mountains, didn’t I just tell you that? I haven’t seen a Denver newspaper since before I went to Rock Springs. What happened?”

“Somebody got in there and smothered her.”

“Oh,
Jesus
. Oh, that elegant woman. Mr. Ralston must be…”

She turned her hands palms up and I said, “Yeah, he is.”

“Oh, Cliff. Why would anyone hurt that lovely lady?”

“The cops think it was Ralston.”

She shook her head, angry now. “The cops think, give me a break. Do they have any evidence against him?”

“Other than the fact that it’s usually the husband, no. They were hoping to sweat a fast confession out of him. If they don’t come up with something, they’ll have to go with the unknown assailant theory.”

“And it’ll never get solved.”

“That’s the way to bet. Unless, by some hail-Mary piece of luck, I manage to do it.” I gave her my miracles-do-happen look and the moment stretched.

“What would you do? Where would you start?”

“I think it might’ve had something to do with the book I left with her that night.”

She weighed this and said, “And that would be why the police are looking at Ralston?”

“That’s how one cop thinks. Unfortunately, he’s the one running the investigation.”

“Can you talk to him?”

I laughed dryly. “I did that.”

“So it’s one of those. Maybe he’d rather talk to me. Does Mr. Ralston have a lawyer?”

“Mr. Ralston went on the lam.”

“It just gets better and better, doesn’t it?” She sipped her drink. “So what happened to the book, did the killer get it?”

“I got it.”

“Then what makes you think the book was behind it?”

“Just a hunch that got started. There’s one problem with it, though. Only five of us knew they had it: the Ralstons, the doctor, me…”

“And me.”

If ever there was a pregnant moment, that was it.

I said, “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Well, I didn’t. I went up to the mountains early the next day. Like I told you.”

“It’s conceivable that Ralston might’ve told somebody in the neighborhood. Maybe Denise did herself. If Whiteside’s any kind of cop, he’ll be looking at that now.”

“Randy Whiteside?”

I nodded.

“Oh God,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Oh God. God,
God
, that poor woman.”

She thought a minute, then said, “If Ralston is arrested or contacts you in any way, I need to talk to him. Immediately, before he says something the cops can use against him.”

I knew my friend Moses would be only too happy to step aside on this one. “If you take him on, it’ll have to be pro bono.”

Her look became prickly. “Did you hear me mention anything about money?”

We had another quick drink. There wasn’t much time left: the lounge was closing.

“They’re about to kick us out,” I said. “Last chance for you to tell me your secrets.”

She looked like she actually was giving this some thought. “I’ll be talking with my client again tonight,” she said. “We might be willing to share certain facts in exchange for the same.”

“Okay,” I said nonchalantly. “It might help if I tell you some of what I already know, just so we don’t rake over stale material. For instance, I know you came here to see Archer.”

She didn’t blink at that, so I went on, hoping I was right. “I know you’re representing Judge Huxley in an attempt to buy a book that Archer claims to have.”

This time she did blink. Encouraged, I kept going: “I know Archer’s being his usual enchanting self, I know he and Lee had a falling-out, and I know some other things as well. I tell you this so you’ll know we’ll have to start well beyond these points. No reinventing the wheel.”

“I wonder how you learned all that. Assuming it’s true.”

“I was a pretty good detective, Erin.”

She smiled wanly. “Unauthorized wiretaps are illegal almost everywhere, Janeway.”

“Thank you, Counselor, for clarifying that so that even a poor old dumb-schmuck ex-cop nonlawyer understands it. For your information, I haven’t done an illegal wiretap in at least a week.”

She stared at me and I could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

“So what do we do?” I said. “Have your people call my people, as you lawyers like to say?”

“Let’s just meet for breakfast, wise guy. Be here at eight and we’ll see what happens. And comb your hair before you come over.”