THE FOURTH WATCH (62 page)

*****

THE PHONE RINGING
brought me up from sleep. I hobbled down the
stairs, my stiff legs protesting, and picked it up in mid ring.
"Hello?"

"Mr. Knight. It's Samantha Whorley."

I looked at the big wall clock. It was almost
twenty minutes of three. "Yes, Mrs.

Whorley, what's the matter."

"I think that policeman is here, that Chief
Genetassio." Her voice was almost a whisper, but I could hear the
fear in it.

"Now?"

"Yes. I heard Ellie yelling. It woke me. I
heard a man's voice talking to her, I couldn't make out the words
he was saying, but she was yelling at him. I went out in the hall
to the top of the stairs. I heard them."

"Mrs. Whorley, where are you now?" I was
suddenly very awake.

"In my room. I thought about
calling the police, but, then I thought,
he is the police,
you

know."

"Yes," I said. "Listen, I'm going to come out
there. You lock the door and don't come out of the room until I get
there, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"If he comes to the door and tells you to open
it, you tell him no. Tell him you heard the commotion and called
your lawyer, and you're not coming out until he gets
here."

"Okay."

"I'm on my way."

"Thank you, Mr. Knight."

"Don't open that door."

"I won't."

I went back up the stairs and went to the
dresser and got my gun, checked the load, and tossed it on the bed.
I dressed quickly and took the gun and went back down the stairs
and shrugged into my coat. I went down the stairs into the basement
and hit the garage door opener and backed the jeep out down my
driveway out onto the street. There must have been eight inches of
snow on the ground. I speed dialed Walter on my cell phone as I
raced along the lake. It went to voice mail. "Walter, it's Mike,
call my cell." I hung up. Even though I was going right past his
street on the way out to Whorley's, there was no time to stop. I
turned right onto Rt. 9 at the lights and went up over Bell Hill,
through the lights at Lincoln Square and up Highland Street. The
wind was blowing the snow sideways across the roads. The plows had
made a pass up Highland but the snow was drifting back in. In four
wheel drive the Jeep went right through it, but not with much
speed. I crossed Park Ave. and went up Pleasant Street. And I
thought: Alex. I hit his number and listened to it ring.

His voice mail said: "You've reached Attorney
Alex Andreason after hours. If this is an emergency leave a
message. Otherwise call my office in the morning."

"Alex, its Mike. I need you to call me right
now if you get this. Call my cell. It's like three in the morning
or something, bye."

I went around the airport rotary, and out
toward Baron Ridge. The phone rang just as I crested the first
hill.

"Alex?"

"Kato?" Alex said, I could hear the worry in
his voice.

"Alex, listen. Samantha Whorley called me
fifteen minutes ago. Genetassio is at the house." I pumped the
brakes going down. Four wheel drive will not help you much on
ice.

"Why did she call you?"

"Long story, the bottom line of which is that I
told her our ... ah, theory, when she came to

my office yesterday. She knows he's a bad guy.
Anyway, I need you to call the cops."

"Because if you call the local police you don't
know who might respond."

"Exactly. I'm five minutes away and I don't
know what I'm walking into here, so ... "

"I will get the Commandant of the State Police
out of bed right now. Be careful, wait if

you can. They're coming."

"Thanks," I said and hung up. I crawled down
into the curve and then goosed it up the hill on the other side.
Halfway up I turned into the Whorley's drive and cut my
lights.

*****

ELLEN WHORLEY HAD
dozed off on the couch. Pounding on the front
door brought her out of it. She went up out of the great room and
across the hall. She stepped to the side of the door and moved the
curtain on the side-lights, and peeked out. Matte Genetassio was
standing in the lamp light under the entryway, brushing snow off
his coat. He saw her and pointed to the door. She went to the door
and raised her voice so she could be heard through it.

"What are you doing here now? Its three o'clock
in the morning."

"I've been out solving your problem, open the
door, it's freezing out here."

She stood there, biting her lip, thinking. She
didn't know if she should let him in. "Ellie, open the fucking
door."

She slid the security chain off and turned the
dead bolt and stepped back. He pushed the door open and slammed it
closed behind him. "What the hell are you doing, it's cold out
there!" He stamped snow off his boots on the rug. "What, you
weren't gonna let me in?"

"I don't know if I can trust you
anymore, Matte." He noticed the bandage on her head and
thought:
Almost, Sully.

"Yeah, yeah. But while you weren't trusting me,
1 found the guy that fixed your car.

You'll be reading about him in the paper
tomorrow. It's what I thought. It was Moltinaldo that put him up to
it. That's a problem." He needed to get her talking, needed to know
if she had told anyone anything.

"Who was this guy?" she asked, her eyes
narrowing, still not sure.

"His name is ... was ... Ronald Sullivan. Been
in jail a couple of times. The spic had him on the payroll. Are you
gonna invite me in or are we gonna stand here in the
hall?"

She was standing with her arms folded across
her breasts. She turned and walked down the stairs back into the
great room without saying anything. He followed her, taking off his
coat.

"Are we alone?"

“No,'' she said. "Sam's here, but her room is
on the other side of the house," she waved her hand vaguely at the
west wing of the mansion. Matte took note of it. "She can't hear
us."

Ellen stopped near a chair across from the
couch and turned to face him. She didn't sit down. "So, how'd you
find this mystery person, so fast, huh?"

He could tell she didn't know if she should
believe him. "I called Moltinaldo and asked him." He shrugged. "He
said he was doing me a favor. Doesn't think we can trust you. Can I
trust you, Ellen?"

She stood there in silence for a minute,
looking at him. "Maybe," she said.

Matte smiled sadly and laid his coat across the
arm of the chair, keeping the pocket with the S&W in it on top.
Then he took two steps and back-handed her across the mouth,
knocking her back over the arm of the chair onto the
floor.

"You fucking asshole!" she screamed at him from
the floor, tears in her eyes, blood at the corner of her
mouth.

He reached down and grabbed her by
her robe and yanked her up and held her an inch from her face.
"
'Maybe?'
You
stupid little cunt, did you tell anyone about us?"

She was sobbing. He shook her so hard she
thought her neck was going to break. "Did

you?" he yelled at her. She could feel the
spittle flying off his lips on her face. ''NO!'' she screamed. "But
I will now you son-of-a-bitch!"

She knew it was a mistake the instant it was
out of her mouth.

He smiled and shoved her away. "Somehow, I
don't think so," he said.

He reached down and pulled the gun out of his
coat pocket and pointed at her.

"Matte," she said, putting her palms out in
front of her and backing up a step. "You know I wouldn't say
anything. I'm just pissed that you hit me."

"Well, I'm just not sure, that's the thing. I
can't take that chance," he said. "Too bad.

You were a lot of fun for a long
time."

"Matte, no, come on, I. .. "

He shot her in the chest at point blank range.
The impact knocked her back against the fireplace where her head
hit the stone mantle with the sound of an egg breaking, then she
bounced forward and pitched face first into the coffee table,
shattering it.

Matte reached down and grabbed her by the hair
and lifted her head up and looked at her.

He grunted, satisfied that she was dead. He
dropped her back down into the glass and headed for the stairs to
look for Samantha Whorley.

*****

SOMEONE HAD PLOWED
the long driveway going up to the house several
hours ago, but four or five inches of new snow had piled back in
since. I could see the tire tracks of another vehicle that had gone
in before me. It was dark, but the spotlights were on out front,
and the porch lamps were lit, so I could make out the edges of the
driveway as I went up without my headlights. There was a black
Chevy Tahoe parked in front of the steps. I pulled in behind it and
grabbed my gun off the passenger seat and jumped out of the Jeep.
As I was going up the stairs I heard a gunshot deep in the house.
It froze me for a second, and then I went up the rest of the way. I
turned the door knob and it opened. I stepped inside and closed the
door softly behind me, my heart pounding, and listened.
Nothing.

The lights were on in the great room. I crossed
the foyer and went down the steps, looking right and left. Then I
saw the lump laying on the coffee table. I crossed over to it and
put my gun down on the sofa and lifted Ellen Whorley out by her
shoulders. I laid her gently down on her back. Her face and chest
were covered with blood. I put two fingers on her neck to check for
a pulse. I didn't expect there to be one, and there wasn't.
"Jesus," I whispered. I could hear a clock ticking and the wind
moaning and the snow peppering the French doors that led out onto
the veranda. I went back up through the foyer and into the kitchen.
I had the gun out in front of me. My hands were shaking. The
kitchen was empty. There was a clock on the stove. 3:17. A set of
stairs on my left led up to the second floor, and there was a door
at the far end of the kitchen. I went to the door and eased it
open, reaching my hand in and along the wall, looking for a light
switch. I found it and clicked it on. The shelves on either side
were full of supplies, but there was nothing else. I turned back
into the kitchen and heard a thump above me. It sounded like it
came from the back of the house. I knew that the main stairway went
off the end of the great room. I went back out and tried not to
look at Ellen's body as I went by it. The stairway was wide, the
railings ornate, hewn from some expensive wood, cherry maybe and
the risers were covered in a thick, sand-colored carpet. It curved
up and around to the next level. I went up slowly, looking above me
as I went.

*****

WHEN HE WAS
finished with Ellie, Genetassio had climbed to the top of the
stairs and looked up and down the long hallway. What a place, he
thought admiringly. Rich people knew how to live.

To the right there was a hallway, on the left
of which there were two big doors about thirty feet apart. On the
right, most of the way down the hall, was an opening to another
stairway. West has got to be left he thought, and went that way. He
went through a large game room, with a big screen TV in the corner,
and a pool table in front of an enormous peach tree window that
looked out on the pool area in the back of the house. Beyond it was
another hall, this time with a door on either side, and another one
at the very end. That's where the man of the house sleeps, he
thought. Gotta be. He went down the corridor to it and tried the
door handle. It was locked. He rapped loudly on the door. "Mrs.
Whorley, this is the police. We have an emergency out here, please
open the door."

Silence.

On the other side, Samantha was trying to
remember what Knight had told her, but she was frozen in terror.
She had heard the shot downstairs. She had covered her mouth with
her hands, thinking: Oh my God. She went into the bathroom and
locked that door behind her, and sat down on the toilet seat with
her hands in her lap, listening. She heard him knock, and heard him
say police, but she didn't answer.

Matte went back up the hall and tried the
handles on the other two rooms. Both doors were open. Yep, she's in
there. He went back down the hall and kicked the door with the
bottom of his boot, just under the handle. The door casing
splintered and the door flew open and banged into the wall behind
it. Matte heard the scream and saw the bathroom door. He went
straight to it and, without trying the handle, kicked it in.
Samantha looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. She turned
her head sideways away from him and held her shaking hands out in
front of her, as if she could ward him off. Matte leaned in and
shot her in the head. She jerked with the shot and slid off the
hopper onto the floor. The gunshot sounded like a bomb exploding in
the small room. The air filled with red mist and smoke. He dropped
the gun to his side and looked at her. Then he turned and went back
out into the bedroom. Time to set the place up right.