The Drowning Pool (35 page)

“I told you to keep away from here. I guess I didn’t tell you strong enough.” Page gave them hard looks.

“What do you want us to do with them, Mr. Page? They’re intruders, so if you like, I could take them out.”

“We don’t have to do anything. They’ve already done it to themselves. They’re going to be thrown off the force. Breaking and entering is a felony. They’ll go to prison. Guess how long they’ll last there?”

Gardner felt a calm descend over him, as if he were standing in the eye of a hurricane and realized there was really nothing to lose by confronting the storm. “I have a witness who places you and your wife at the Galaxy Lounge in the company of Bradshaw and Cheryl McNeill. She saw the hand-holding and the cutesy stuff that went on there. We also know about the twenty thousand dollars you gave Cheryl to keep her quiet.”

“You can’t trace that money to me.”

“I can prove that you’ve been lying right along. You knew Bradshaw. And you were at the pool the night he died. What are you so afraid of? Us finding out that you tried frightening us off by making threats?” He paused for less than a moment. “You don’t want to tell us anything? Fine, let me try a little scenario. Bradshaw offered to hook you up with Cheryl. I don’t know what was in it for him, but I’m sure he would have thought of something. Maybe he just liked the idea of doing an important man a favor so you’d owe him. Did he want your wife in exchange for lending you Cheryl?”

“Shut your filthy mouth!”

Victor moved toward him as if he were about to pistol whip Gardner. Bert quickly stuck her foot out, tripping him, and the big man fell forward.

Gardner continued talking as if he’d never been interrupted. “You met Cheryl at the pool for a swim that night. You found Bradshaw unconscious in the storage shed, or maybe he’d already come around. What happened after that? Did he insult you? He was in a nasty mood, wasn’t he? Did he threaten to tell your wife about your fling with Cheryl?”

Page looked furious. “I never spoke to him.”

“But you were there that evening.” He faced Page. “If you didn’t kill him, then why are you so afraid?”

“My people will escort you to the gate.”

Gardner didn’t budge. “I don’t like the way you threatened my family. If anything should happen to my girls, I’ll hound you to hell. And If I’m unable to do that for some reason, I’ll make sure someone else takes care of it. Even your high, thick walls won’t be enough protection, and neither will your bodyguards or your mob connections.” Gardner never raised his voice but spoke with intensity.

“I too believe in retribution,” Page responded in a grave manner, as if Gardner had finally reached him on some level.

“I’m not leaving here until I know what you’re covering up. Whatever it is, you can’t keep hiding it. The truth is bound to come out.”

Page sneered at him. “A lot you know. Money creates its own truth—and it’s a silent gravedigger.”

Gardner saw that Bert was hurting, although she hadn’t said a word. The wound looked like it needed medical treatment. He respected her stoicism and courage. Kim also had true grit. She’d kept silent, a brave woman, but then, he already knew that. It was one of the things he loved about her. Now she exchanged a look with him, a speaking look, informing him she’d found out something that might help them. He nodded to her and she stepped forward.

“Your wife and I had a long talk before you came. She told me about Bradshaw. She wasn’t afraid.”

Victor came toward Kim. Gardner was ready to take him down if he so much as looked at her the wrong way, but Page signaled his flunky away.

“I don’t know what she told you, but my wife is in delicate health. Some years ago, she suffered a terrible loss and hasn’t been the same since. She has chronic bouts of depression.”

“Is that why you keep her isolated most of the time?” Kim’s voice was gentle but firm.

“I do no such thing. She prefers to be alone. How dare you bother that woman with your suspicions? You’re nothing but scum.”

* * * *

Kim knew it was dangerous to possibly make a man like Page lose control, yet she saw no other alternative. “It’s only natural that your wife is depressed. The loss of a child, particularly your only child, is a traumatic experience.”

“She told you about that?”

Kim forced herself to stay cool. “I also know why you particularly enjoyed the pool at La Reine Gardens. But you can understand why your wife insisted on filling in yours.”

That was too much for Page; his temper was getting the better of him. The color of his face was a mottled purple, as if his rage were beginning to strangle him. Kim wondered if she’d made a mistake.

“I changed my mind, Victor. We’ll get rid of these cops permanently. And you can bury them in the old swimming pool. That seems like justice.”

Kim felt sick to her stomach. Dear God, she’d only succeeded in making matters worse!

* * * *

Two men with guns and Page, who wasn’t armed—they could probably take the lot if Bert’s hand weren’t mangled. Gardner could tell Kim felt she’d pushed too hard. He would have liked to reassure her, but he couldn’t. The worst part was that they still didn’t know any more than before talking to Page.

“What’s going on?” Mrs. Page was poised at the top of the staircase.

“Your husband’s decided to have us killed,” Gardner told her. “I hope it won’t weigh too heavily on your conscience.”

“I asked Victor to send them away,” she said to her husband, descending the stairs with an awkward gait. Gardner knew he’d succeeded in rattling her.

“Why did you tell the cop anything? Marie, you’re a stupid woman. Now I have to kill them.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What do you think I told her? Anyway, that woman said she’s a librarian, not a cop. They can’t prove a thing. I never told her about you.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve been protecting you!” Page blurted out. The land developer realized almost immediately he’d made a mistake by saying too much in front of his employees. He turned to them now with his head high in a gesture of command. “What are you waiting for? Get rid of the cops!”

“Sure, boss. You want us to whack them. No problem.”

Sam gave Bert a shove with his automatic. Her leg came up and kicked the guard a hard blow to the groin as her good hand went for the gun, knocking it out of the man’s hand and across the room. Gardner had no time to admire her agility in the martial arts, because it was his turn to act. Although Victor was a good four or five inches taller than him and much broader, Gardner brought his elbow up and smashed a hard blow into his adversary’s midsection, followed by a fist to the windpipe. Gardner finished with a strong chop downward that disarmed Victor. The eagle had definitely landed.

Gardner quickly unzipped his coveralls under which he had his holstered service revolver. With a gun in each hand, Gardner figured he looked a lot more formidable. Bert, who held Sam’s automatic, quickly slipped on the safety and placed it into her jacket pocket. She seemed to prefer holding her own weapon now that she could get it back. The room was suddenly silent.

“I’d like for us all to sit down in the living room and talk like reasonable, civilized people. You don’t have to offer us tea and crumpets, but we definitely require some conversation.” Gardner motioned to Victor and Sam; they followed Mr. and Mrs. Page wordlessly.

He looked down at Victor’s Magnum. It was tiring his hand, but he had no intention of returning the weapon to its owner.

“Mrs. Page, why does your husband think you need protection? Were you at the pool club on the night Bradshaw died?”

Mrs. Page wasn’t willing to answer him directly. Instead, she turned to her husband. “You thought that I had something to do with that man’s death?” She shook her head incredulously. “Why would I kill him? I barely knew him. He was your acquaintance. I didn’t tell that woman anything because I was protecting you.”

“Don’t start twisting things around, Marie.” Page viewed her darkly.

“Fine. Then if you have nothing to hide, and I’m telling you I don’t, we should tell them what they want to know.” Mrs. Page crossed her legs and folded her arms over her breasts.

“Okay, tell him what you want. I don’t suppose I can stop you anyway. You never did have any sense.” He turned his face away from her as if disassociating himself.

His wife made eye contact with Gardner, ignoring her husband’s insult. “I did go to the swim club the night that man died. At dinner that evening, Georgio and I had an argument, a bitter one. He said we never have fun anymore, that our house was like a tomb, a mausoleum, because I was permanently in mourning. He told me his new friend, Rick Bradshaw, liked me. I knew what was really going on.” She threw an accusing glance at her husband. “This Bradshaw was nothing more than a pimp. He offered to let my husband sleep with his girlfriend and in return I was to do the same with him.” Her eyes burned with indignation.

“I never said that,” Page protested.

“That’s what you meant, what you wanted.”

“California people are different, much more relaxed and modern. Rick only suggested it as a way to revitalize our marriage.”

She turned away from Page. “Georgio said if I didn’t meet this man at the pool, he was going to divorce me. He said he planned to be there with Cheryl, and we’d all enjoy the place together. He put the keys to the club in my hand and then he left. I thought it over for a while. I didn’t want to go. Those people were superficial. But nobody in my family has ever gotten a divorce. It isn’t done. It would shame me.

“When I got to the pool, everything was locked up and it was dark. I thought maybe there was some mistake. I opened the gate, went in and located the lights. Then I began looking around. The cabanas were empty and so was the pool. I went to the storage room thinking I heard someone moving around in there, found it locked and tried the keys again. When the door opened, I couldn’t see anything until I found a light switch. I remember looking up at a small naked light bulb, then down at the ground. That was when I saw him lying there. He moaned, tried to move and then fell back. He looked as if he were dead. He was so still, and there was blood on his face and hair. I heard Georgio’s voice behind me. I remember turning around and staring at him. The girl was there too. He asked me something, but I didn’t hear him. I threw down the keys and ran out of that horrible place, hurrying to my car. When Georgio came home later that night, he tried to talk to me, but I wouldn’t speak to him. I just wanted to wipe the whole ugly thing from my mind.”

Gardner turned to Page. “Was that how you remember it?”

Page didn’t speak at first; a lifetime habit of avoiding and mistrusting police showed in his face. “Marie was there when we arrived. I’d picked up Cheryl at her apartment. We expected to meet Rick at the club. The gates were open and we walked in. Since we didn’t see anyone, we walked around. I found my wife standing over Rick. She was just staring at him like she was in shock. I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t seem to hear me. Cheryl saw everything that I did.”

“So you formed the opinion that your wife had killed him?”

Page’s jaw was working but he didn’t answer. Gardner turned back to Mrs. Page, the more cooperative of the two. “Did your husband have reason to believe that you might have killed Bradshaw?”

“Georgio was interested in having an open marriage. I did blame Mr. Bradshaw for putting the idea in his head. I felt he was little more than a procurer. I have strong religious beliefs. No matter how I may feel about my husband at times, I strive to make our marriage work. Georgio started talking about how we had to loosen up sexually. That was Bradshaw’s doing. The man disgusted me, and I communicated my feelings to my husband.”

“Did you assume your husband killed Bradshaw?”

She hesitated, casting her eyes downward. “I didn’t know. Georgio has a bad temper. Sometimes, it gets the better of him.”

Gardner was well aware that Page considered himself above the law. Mrs. Page probably had very good reason to consider her husband capable of violent acts.

“I didn’t kill Bradshaw,” Page burst out. “Marie, you need to be locked up in a nuthouse.”

“Georgio, you’re capable of anything. And I’m not taking your abuse anymore. No more Bradshaws and no more bimbos. I want a real husband or I’m leaving you.”

Gardner smiled. Mrs. Page was finally showing some guts.

She gave Gardner an oblique look and shook her head, as if she knew what he was thinking. “It’s taken me too long to summon my courage.”

“You thought your husband killed Bradshaw, and he thought you did it.” Gardner felt discouraged; this wasn’t what he’d expected. It seemed unlikely that either of them was the killer. He turned back to Page. “You went to a lot of trouble for nothing. It would’ve been a lot easier if you’d just talked it out with your wife in the first place.”

“Don’t lecture me. You’re nothing. I buy and sell guys like you anytime I want.”

Bert responded to Page’s arrogance. “Don’t count on it.” She waved the gun she held in the builder’s face.

“Are you done with your questions?”

“Not quite. We still have a murderer to find. Let’s go back to when you left the pool that night. Did you shut off the lights and lock up?”

Page was thoughtful. “I guess I did,” he responded with a shrug.

“That’s not good enough. Did you lock up? This is important. You must have been in a hurry to leave after discovering Bradshaw in the storeroom. What exactly did you do?”

“I did lock up, but I forgot to shut off the flood lights around the pool.”

“When you saw Bradshaw, did you examine him? Did you feel for a pulse?”

“No, he looked dead.”

“You didn’t think to call for assistance? That the man might still be alive?”

“I had my wife and myself to think about, my reputation and hers.”

Gardner didn’t comment on Page’s selfish disregard for human life; he didn’t think it would do much good. “What time were you at the pool?”

“Probably around nine o’clock, not much later.”

“Did Cheryl try to blackmail you?”

“Her? No, she’s a nice kid. I just wanted to give her a gift. Look, that business before about having you guys killed, I lost my temper is all. I wouldn’t really off you. I don’t do things like that. I’m a respectable businessman. Let’s forget it, okay? My wife and I have cooperated. Now you know we had nothing to do with the murder.”