I walked into the living room and flicked on the light. She already had the bundle in her left hand and my .38 in her right. She looked something close to beautiful in the dim light, even while aiming my own gun at me. “You take one step closer, I’ll kill you.”
I leaned against the doorframe. “Just like you killed Fairfax?”
“I didn’t kill him. He did that himself. The rest of this doesn’t concern you. Now, go back inside and throw me my clothes. If you come out with anything more than my clothes, you’re a dead man.”
She tracked me with my pistol as I took a cigarette out of the box on the table and lit it. “I guess I should’ve lit one for you, too, but we’re past romance now, aren’t we?”
She raised the gun so it was pointed at my head. “Just because I didn’t shoot Fairfax doesn’t mean I won’t shoot you. Get my clothes.”
I sat on the couch instead. “You’re not going to shoot anyone. It’s not loaded. Squeeze the trigger if you don’t believe me.”
The bitch actually did just that, and was surprised when it clicked. She squeezed it five more times just to prove it was empty.
I blew smoke in her direction. “You can put the bundle back on the desk, too. If you look closely, you’ll see it’s my stuff, not Fairfax’s.”
She threw the gun at me, but luckily it hit the couch and not one of the expensive knickknacks Mrs. Van Dorn had placed around the office.
Sarah looked at the bundle and slammed it down on the desk. “Damn you!”
“Why? For figuring you were up to something? That’s just common sense, but I’ll give you high marks for effort.”
She dropped into my desk chair and covered herself with her arms. “If you touch me, I’ll scream.”
I laughed for the first time since I could remember. “Go ahead. Somebody might hear you. Hell, they might even call the cops. I’ll have a hell of a story to tell them once they get here.”
She must’ve realized I was right, and sank further into the chair. “I didn’t kill Mr. Fairfax.”
“I didn’t think you did. But you’re wrapped up in this somehow and I want to know how. Don’t bother lying to me, either, or I’ll call Loomis. And I promise he won’t be as gentle as he was before. You’re in a hell of a lot of trouble, Miss Swenson.”
“How dare you call me that,” she snapped. “Not after what we just did.”
“After you just fired an empty gun at me, let’s stick to formality. Now, start talking. And don’t bother lying, because we’re way beyond that.”
She looked around like she was trying to find a way out. If she got off the chair, I would’ve stopped her, but she was smart enough to stay where she was. Realizing she was stuck, she said, “You need to know that what happened between us wasn’t part of it. You have to believe me. I really was terrified. I still am. That’s how this all started in the first place.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I didn’t need to. “Go on.”
“I…I’ve got a kid.”
“So what?”
“So, I had him young. Too young to be married and too young to take care of him on my own. Get the picture?”
It was a picture I’d seen many times before. “Go on.”
“I put him in boarding school, and worked my fingers to the bone to keep him there. Became a damned good secretary, and got a good job working for Mr. Fairfax.”
It was all coming into focus. “Was that your cover story to get close to Fairfax?”
“It’s not a cover story, damn it. It’s the truth, and I’d been working for him for years before all of this happened.”
“Tell me. And don’t lie or I’ll know it, and I won’t be happy.”
“A year ago, I got a letter in the mail with a picture of my boy at school. It was a picture of him sleeping, Charlie, in his bedroom that he shares with three other boys. I don’t know how they got it, but they did. The letter was blank but there was a note on the back photo, with a phone number. That’s all. It didn’t have to say anything more than that. I understood what I had to do.”
Smart girl. “What then?”
“I called the number, and the guy on the other end told me as long as I did what they said, my boy wouldn’t be hurt. He said they’d already gotten into his room once and would do it again, only this time they’d hurt him.”
A single tear ran down her right cheek, but she wasn’t weeping. “That kid’s my whole life, Charlie. He’s about the only good thing I’ve ever done. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to him.”
I flicked my ash and took another drag. So far, I believed her. The story was just bland enough to be possible. “Let me guess. They wanted you to spy on Fairfax.”
She nodded quickly. “They wanted me to report on everything he did. Who called him, who he called, who he met, where he went, who wrote to him, and who he sent letters to. They wanted information on the company, on his finances, pretty much anything I could get my hands on. Since he had everything sent to the office, even his personal matters, I had a lot to give them. They knew about it, too.”
“How did you give them what they wanted?”
“They gave me a post office box where I mailed everything. I never met anyone or spoke to anyone on the phone again.”
Whoever was playing her was smart. She couldn’t identify them if she’d never met them. “This has been going on for a year?”
She nodded. “A few months later, he started in with this new woman he was seeing. He always had a girlfriend and never brought them around the office, but I always knew what he was doing based on his financial statements. I handled his personal bills, too.”
I’d heard this kind of thing before. Somebody finds a weakness, in Sarah’s case it was her kid, uses it to get information, and uses said information against a target. Usually it was part of a con job, but this was much more than a simple confidence game. “I guess you kept doing this right up until the day he shot himself.”
“And after. They sent me another letter, telling me they still wanted to know what was going on in the company. I still worked in the chairman’s office, so I still had access to a lot of information. I wrote a letter in one of my reports, begging them to let me stop and keep me and my son out of it. They sent a letter back with one word on it. ‘No.’”
Interesting. “What about the day he killed himself? Did you lie about that to the police? To me?”
“No. It all happened exactly as I told you and told Loomis and that other detective, Hauser. I haven’t lied about any of that, I swear. They didn’t tell me to, either.”
Again, I believed her. “The German lady who called Fairfax that morning wasn’t the same voice on the phone?”
Her expression softened a bit. “That was a man. He had a similar accent, but I didn’t think anything of it until you mentioned it just now.” She looked at me. “You think they’re in on this together?”
“Skip it. Tell me about what happened today. You did hear from them, didn’t you?”
She looked down into her lap. “They called the office this morning. It was the same voice I’d heard on the phone before. Male and German. He said Mrs. Fairfax may be sending someone by the office. They gave me a number to call when you got there. When you left to get Donohue, I called them back and told them you had found a safe and were going to open it tonight. They said they’d be there when you opened it, and I should stay out of the way if I didn’t want to get hurt.”
“That’s why you were so anxious to get out of the office.” I stubbed out my cigarette in the ash tray. “Guess you also mentioned that I wasn’t carrying a gun. That’s why they were so brazen about barging in there.”
She shut her eyes. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“These bastards have my son, damn it. What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know.” She dropped her head into her hands. “Call the number they gave me today, maybe. If they didn’t pick up, mail it to the address I have. I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”
When she looked up at me, her eyes were red. “Don’t let the early motherhood bit fool you, Charlie. I’m really not a bad girl. I’m not good at this stuff, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I also don’t know who they are or if they think I’m helping you right now or if they’re going to hurt my son.” She dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
I’d seen a lot of crocodile tears in my time. I wasn’t seeing them now. “When was the last time you spoke to your son?”
“Tonight at the police station,” she said. “Detective Loomis let me use the phone. He was fine, but I don’t know.”
I didn’t need her spinning off into another panic, so I kept her grounded. “Here’s what’s going to happen next. You’re going to go back inside and get dressed. Then we’re going to your apartment and getting the picture of your son with the phone number on the back. We’re going to get the address you mail things to also.”
“We can’t go there at this time of night,” she said. “I have a roommate and she’ll worry if—”
I looked at her until she realized I didn’t care.
I pointed at a pad on the desk. “Write down the name and address of your boy’s school. While you’re getting dressed, I’ll make some phone calls and make sure he’s safe.”
She looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time. “You’d do that for him? For me? After everything I just told you? After everything I’ve done?”
“I’ve got two kids myself. It’s not their fault their parents are rotten. Now write it down before I change my mind.”
*****
While Sarah got dressed, I called Mr. Van Dorn. If he was annoyed that I’d called him in the wee hours of the morning, he didn’t sound it.
I told him everything Sarah had just told me, including how she’d tried to steal the documents from my desk. I didn’t get into all the particulars about what we’d done before that. He was a man of the world. Some things were better left unsaid.
After I was finished, he said, “Seems Mr. Fairfax isn’t the only one who leads a complicated life, Charlie.” He cleared his throat. “I hope you didn’t hurt her.”
“Just her pride. The trouble is, I believe her, sir. I’ve got every reason in the world to think she’s lying, but her story sounds legit.”
“I can’t say that I trust her motives, but I trust your judgement. Have you told anyone else about this? Called any of your friends on the force to help guard your apartment?”
“My ex-partner Loomis took the report about what happened back at the Fairfax office, but that’s all he knows. He’s having a patrol car swing by the place every half hour or so.”
“And where is Miss Swenson now?”
“She’s getting ready to go home now. I’ll make sure she gets in safe.”
“No. You’ve had enough people gunning for you for one day. Stay where you are. I’ll send some men to your place to collect her and the material, save for the notebook you’ll take to Father Mullins later. You’ll find him alone on a bench in the center of the campus.”
When we’d talked back at the station, he said he’d be sending one man along. Now, he was talking about more than that. “What men, sir?”
“Men who will be equipped to make sure Miss Swenson and the material arrive where they need to go. I’ll fill you in later as events transpire.”
He kept talking before I could ask him what he meant. “Make sure you don’t mention any of this to anyone else but Father Mullins, at least not without discussing it with me first. If word about any of this gets out, it will only complicate matters. You and I will talk in greater detail at the gala tonight. The men I mentioned will be at your apartment within the hour. They’ll both be wearing dark suits and will ask for a Mr. Dean. That will be the signal that they’re with me. Shoot through the door if anyone else approaches. Is that clear?”
I loaded the last bullet into my .38 and snapped the cylinder shut. “This is starting to sound very complicated, sir.”
“It’s been complicated for some time, Charlie. I’ll fill you in on the rest as soon as I can. And don’t worry about reporting to Mrs. Fairfax. I’ll handle her until further notice. See you tonight.”
With that, the line went dead.
Sarah knocked quietly on the doorframe of my bedroom. I was sorry and relieved she was fully dressed. “Can we go now, Charlie?”
“Change of plans, Miss Swenson. My boss is sending men over to make sure you get home safe.”
“Men? What men?”
I didn’t answer because I didn’t know what to tell her. I shrugged into my shoulder holster and slid the gun home. It was the first time in a year that I’d put it on, but it felt like I’d never taken it off.
I didn’t like the tone in Mr. Van Dorn’s voice at the end of our call. And I didn’t like that feeling that was starting up in my stomach. It was the same feeling I’d had back in the war, right before the shells started landing. Or on the force, just before a perp reached into his pocket.
It was the feeling I usually got just before all hell broke loose.
Chapter 12
The bells from the Fordham chapel chimed eight times as I walked through a light mist to meet Father John Mullins.
I was an hour early for our meeting, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be anywhere but my apartment, and the fresh air felt good. Too much had gone on at my place too quickly, and my mind was still spinning. And the idea of sleeping with a woman who had just set me up for a beating or worse still took some getting used to. All the signs had been there, but I hadn’t seen them until it was too late. I was really beginning to believe I might not be cut out for this kind of work anymore.
But I couldn’t afford to think that way. Not with so many facts coming together. Not with people coming after me with Tommy guns.
I figured it was probably against a dozen or so church laws to visit a priest the morning after you’d slept with a woman who wasn’t your wife, but since that woman had almost gotten me killed, I hoped God might give me a pass.
Given my track record with getting favors from the Almighty, I doubted He would. Just another item in St. Peter’s ledger to answer for whenever I reached the Pearly Gates. It was a conversation I hoped wouldn’t happen for a while.
I was surprised to see Father Mullins was early, too. Or, at least I thought he was Father Mullins. He was exactly where Mr. Van Dorn had told me he’d be: sitting on a bench at the edge of the circular lawn in the middle of the campus. A new building was being built on the opposite side of the green from where the Jesuit was sitting.
Father Mullins’s long legs were stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles as he puffed away at a pipe. He had a thick shock of gray hair ruled more by the wind than a comb. His face was deeply lined, and his skin was almost as gray as his hair.
I found myself walking slower the closer I got to him. I felt like I was intruding somehow, like I was walking in on the middle of a conversation, even though he was alone.
He didn’t look at me, but he must have sensed I was there because he pointed the stem of his pipe at the building being built across the green. “Tell me, young man. What do you make of it?”
I hadn’t been called a young man in a long time, but since no one else was around, I figured he was talking to me. I loo
ked at the building: a large, half-built stone structure that reminded me of a castle I’d seen once in Europe. Workmen were laying down what appeared to be steps on a hill leading up to it. “Pretty impressive, Father.”
“Pretty imposing is more like it. Looks more like an armory than a place of learning, if you want my opinion, which, I might add, no one seems to want these days. They’re saying it’ll be the centerpiece of the university, as if the centerpiece of a university can be limited to stone and mortar. Or should.”
He smiled a warm smile that seemed more for himself than for me. “But you didn’t come all this way to hear a contrary old man’s views on architecture, now did you, Charles?”
I hadn’t been called Charles this often in a very long time, either. “Feel free to call me Charlie, Father. Everyone does.”
“But I’m not everyone.” Using his pipe like a wand, he pointed at the open space next to him on the bench. “Come join me as we watch the future being built before our very eyes.”
When I sat, Father Mullins finally took a look at me. “You’re not at all what I expected. I thought you’d be some greasy little man in a trench coat, skulking along through the mist.”
I smiled. “I’m afraid my trench coat is at the cleaner’s.”
His own smile widened in a way that made me feel his opinion of me had just gone up a notch. “Harry speaks very highly of you, which is rare considering Harriman Van Dorn doesn’t give praise lightly.”
“The feeling is mutual. He stuck by me when no one else would. Helped me get my business started. Get a new life.” I felt like I was rambling, and stopped. “Sorry, Father. Didn’t mean to waste time talking about myself.”
“Nonsense.” The Jesuit pointed the pipe stem at his white Roman collar. “Confessions come with the job. And talking about oneself is never a waste of time, as long as we’re honest with ourselves about who we are and what we are. In that regard, Harry tells me you’re a very honest man. He likes and trusts you. And not just because you freed his son and brought his daughter’s killers to justice.”
I winced at the memory. “I didn’t bring anyone to justice, Father. I just killed the men responsible.”
The Fairfax Incident Page 10
