The Spider Bites (7 page)

All the time she was talking, she was getting ready to go out. “I'll drop you at your hotel,” she said. “Maybe we can get together tomorrow.”

It suddenly occurred to me that we hadn't once talked about the fire.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE FOURTH DAY

M
y mobile buzzed frantically. It was midmorning. I was outside, walking aimlessly along West Central. It was Tony.

“We have to talk.”

“Okay. Where are you?”

“At the Coffee Corner. You walked by me three minutes ago. I waved, but you didn't see me.”

I was back at the Coffee Corner in two minutes. I nodded at the waitress. A nice kid, but she wasn't Cheryl.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“Sure.” Between breakfast and lunch, the place was almost empty. She looked bored.

Tony walked over to the big round table in the corner and sat down.

“Are you expecting a crowd?” I asked.

“A couple more people,” said Tony. “I have some interesting results I wanted to talk about. They weren't easy to get.”

“Why?”

“It's like this, Rick. I've actually been off your case since Monday. The guys upstairs decided I was a bit too close to you.”

“But that was always true.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Then yesterday morning they decided to put me on leave. Except that I had to turn up for Donovan's little inquiry. So I'm on leave.”

“Why aren't you home sleeping?”

“Too boring. I thought I'd see if I could find out what was going on.”

“Did you?”

“I'm getting there. Have you come up with anything I should know, Rick? Before the others get here.”

“Like what?”

“What has Angela told you? I haven't been able to talk to her.”

“Nothing. And that's because Angela had nothing to do with Freddie. He was my problem. Or with Cheryl's death or the fire.”

“How can you be sure? She's being pretty cagey, isn't she?”

“Listen, if she had anything to do with Cheryl's death, Tony, I'm finished. I'd have nothing left I could trust. Or believe in. Anyway, she was never involved in the mess with Rodriguez.”

“Really?” He looked at me, his head tilted. “Did you ask her? Do anything to check her out?”

“No!”

“I don't believe you.”

“That's not my fault.”

“Sorry, Rick. God, I hate not working,” he said. “It makes me crazy.”

At that moment, a small white van pulled up outside the Coffee Corner. Susanna and Greg had arrived.

“Hi, Tony,” said Susanna. “We made it. You not working today?”

“I'm off,” said Tony.

“Again?” she said. “You were off on Wednesday too, weren't you? Or so they said.” She winked. She was needling him, and he was reacting.

“No, Susanna. I wasn't off on Wednesday. Anyway, I don't work seven days a week. None of us do.”

“I at least have a reason to be off. I get three days for the death of a mother,” she said. “It's in our contract.”

“I know what's in the contract,” said Tony.

“Lay off, Susanna,” I said before they started yelling at each other. “Sit down. Coffee?”

Greg paid no attention. He was staring out the window. “I hope I don't get a ticket,” he said. “I have this sign on the dash:
On
Call. Emergency Service
. But they never pay any attention to it.”

“Sit still,” said Tony. “If you get a ticket, I'll pay it. I promise.”

The door opened again and Angela came in, followed by Mark Davies.

The meeting had come to order.

* * *

“So what are we doing here?” asked Susanna.

“It was my idea,” said Tony. “I'm not on this case. I'm just a possible witness, like the rest of you. And like Rick, my name has been associated with Fred Hancock.”

“I think Tony's trying to say that we all have an interest in finding out what happened on Wednesday,” I said.

“Thanks, Rick,” said Tony. “They'd never have figured it out on their own, would they?”

“Calm down, Tony, and tell us what you've been able to find out.”

“How?” asked Susanna.

“I have friends, Susanna,” he said. “So this is real stuff. First of all, some of the data from the burn site has come in.”

“Like what?” asked Greg.

“It was Freddie who died in the basement,” said Tony.

“How can they be sure?” asked Susanna.

“He's been booked often enough. So his prints are on file. They got enough bits of skin from his fingertips to get a match.”

Susanna looked as if she wished she hadn't asked.

“And they've confirmed the cause of the fire.”

“What was it?” I asked.

“What you'd expect,” said Tony. “Nothing fancy. Just rags soaked with lots of gasoline. Lots of traces of them in the basement and on the first floor.”

Susanna and Greg shifted impatiently. Angela and Mark sat quietly, looking interested but not surprised. They could have been at a lecture on gardening or modern art.

“The third result was sort of a surprising,” said Tony. “Although it does explain why your alarm system wasn't more helpful, Mr. Davies.”

“What failed?” he asked. “I am upset that Cheryl died in a fire. I feel some responsibility. She was a very courageous woman, but she was afraid of fire. She took precautions against it. They didn't help.”

“Nothing failed, Mr. Davies,” said Tony. “Cheryl and Freddie had both taken—or been given—large doses of a narcotic substance. They were probably unconscious.”

“See?” said Susanna. “Drugs. Rodriguez again. I'll bet Freddie and Cheryl were smoking something, or even injecting something, really powerful that this Rodriguez gave to Freddie.”

“And then they spread gasoline all over the place and set fire to it? Just for fun? Come on, Susanna,” I said, furious for the moment.

“I didn't mean that,” she said. “Cheryl was in bed, wasn't she? And it must have been someone trying to get rid of Freddie who started the fire. Not knowing that anyone else was in the house. After all, how many people have Wednesdays off?”

“Or maybe whoever did it knew Cheryl took Wednesdays off,” said Mark Davies suddenly.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DEATH INSURANCE

“W
ho would want to kill my mother?” Susanna's face was white. “She never hurt a fly. Everyone loved her.”

“That's true, Susanna. I did,” said Mark in a low voice. “All of us did. It was a part of what she was. But she had another side. She was careful. She worried about the future. She saved her money and was well insured. House and life insurance.”

“How do you know?” said Susanna. “Who is this guy?” she asked, looking around.

“Sources,” he said. “So the beneficiary is going to do well.”

“That's interesting,” said Tony.

“But I'm the beneficiary, aren't I? Are you saying I killed my own mother? Me?” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Did she own the house?” asked Tony.

“She did,” said Mark. “She paid the mortgage off last year.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

“I knew her pretty well. I came here for breakfast. I sat over there, by the coffee machine. After the place emptied out, we used to talk. I don't suppose you and Angela even noticed me.”

He turned to Susanna. “It doesn't have to have been you,” he said. “Someone else might want you to be rich. Someone looking for a wife with money.”

“Either way, that made Cheryl the target of the fire,” said Tony.

“It's possible,” said Mark. “Whenever you're talking about a lot of money, you have a motive. Money changes things.”

“Yes,” said Tony. “It changes things.”

“I always figured the motive was money,” I said. “But I still think Rodriguez was trying to get rid of Freddie. After all, he was going to talk. But Cheryl's death? I couldn't see it. Unless she was going to tell us why she let Freddie stay in my apartment.”

“Weren't there easier ways to get rid of Freddie?” asked Angela.

“Torching the house brought me into the frame,” I said. “And that meant someone wanted to fix me for good. That someone has to be Rodriguez.”

“It looks that way,” said Mark.

“So I started things rolling. I told a couple of people I was going to poke around the site of the fire.”

“Who?” asked Mark.

“Angela and Susanna. Then I went over to see if anyone turned up.”

“You bastard!” said Angela. “You suspected me?”

“Of course not,” I said. “But I wanted to make sure. After all, you were pretty angry.”

“I had reason to be,” said Angela.

“I know. But…”

“Save the fights for later,” said Mark. “What did they do?”

“Angela told me I was crazy,” I said. “That made me feel better. Of course, I didn't feel so wonderful when I turned up at her apartment and saw you there, Mark. I didn't know you two knew each other.”

“And Susanna?” asked Angela.

“Nothing much. I went over to the park and waited. Mark turned up. And then Greg. Interesting, I thought. You tell two women and two guys turn up.”

“I told you,” said Greg. “I was just killing time until I could go and pick up Susanna. When I called her, she said to give her thirty minutes to pull herself together, like. She'd meet me outside Jenny's house. Isn't that what you said, Susanna?”

“Something like that,” said Susanna.

“Can we get away from the damn park for a minute?” asked Tony. “There's no law against sitting and talking to people in a public park at nine or ten at night.”

“Look, Tony. Two things happened at the park that night that shouldn't have.”

“What?”

“Someone screwed up the power lines. And someone hit me on the head. If his aim had been better, I'd be dead.”

“Who?” said Angela.

“It's pretty obvious. Most of us wouldn't have the guts to play around with high tension wires. But there's an electrician in the room. Sitting right there. How's your leg, Greg? Weren't you limping just a little? How much damage did I do?”

All the eyes turned on Greg.

He pushed his chair back. “Okay. I went over to see what was happening. Just like you, Rick.” He stood up. “I bumped into Rick in the dark. He fell and hit his head. I bruised my ankle. No big deal. I apologize, Rick. Let's go home, Susanna.”

“Wait a minute,” said Susanna. “Forget Greg. He knew nothing about what was going on.”

“Really? Who did then?” I asked.

“Tony. He used Greg. He needed help from someone with no connections to Rodriguez or the police.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Greg told me,” she said. “This morning. He asked me what to do.”

Greg sat down, burying his head in his hands.

“Why would Tony do it?” I asked.

She looked around. Everyone in the room was staring at her. As if she was a snake coiled up on the table, ready to strike.

“For the money. I think he had big gambling debts.”

“Tony?” said Angela. “He doesn't even play poker with the guys.”

“Sure,” said Susanna. “That's what everyone thinks.”

“We don't just think it, Susanna. We know it,” I said. “Anyway, Rachel would break his nose if he did.”

“She would, Susanna,” said Tony, grinning. “Believe me. And she knows every cent I spend.”

“He's conning you, Rick. The way he's always conned everybody. I've been working around these guys for almost two years, and I can see it.”

“See what?” asked Tony.

“Your connections with Rodriguez,” said Susanna. “Even the soccer team he coaches. It's filled with kids who've been busted for dealing.”

“Okay,” I said, “let's say Tony did it. Why involve Greg?” I wondered what she'd say.

“He needed someone with a truck that no one would notice. Greg's truck was always around our place. So he asked Greg. They put the cans of gas and stuff in the truck. He drove it to our place and waited in the truck for Tony. When I found out about it, I knew Rodriguez was behind it. And was going to put the blame on you, Rick.”

“So why did Greg try to kill me?”

“He told you! He wasn't trying to kill you. Don't you ever listen?” said Susanna.

CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE PRICE OF A LIFE

S
usanna stood up. “Come on, Greg. We're leaving. These guys aren't working cops. They have no right to ask us questions. They're just playing games.”

“Just a minute, Susanna,” I said. “You're right, of course. But we can call in the real troops in a second when we want. Hang on. The party isn't over yet.”

“Anyone looking at the evidence is going to assume you killed your mother, Susanna,” said Angela. “Go ahead. Convince us you didn't.”

“There's no point,” said Tony. “She did it. Or, at least, she's responsible for Cheryl's death. We won't have any trouble proving it either.”

Susanna sat there quietly. She seemed perfectly relaxed now.

“Why did you do it, Susanna?” I asked. “Cheryl was your mother.”

“Greed,” said Tony. “Rodriguez probably paid her a bundle. First to put Freddie in your apartment where they could find him. And then to get rid of him. We'll find the money. It's very hard stuff to hide.”

“How much did you get to kill two people, Susanna?” I asked. “What's the price of a life right now?”

“You stupid bastards,” she said. “I didn't touch Cheryl. But I won't pretend that I'm sorry she's dead. I hated her.”

“Why?” I asked. Even then—even suspecting she killed Cheryl—I was stunned.