Bottom Line td-37

by Warren Murphy

  He waited for the expected words of invitation and when they had come, he said: "Think of me. I'll be with you soon."

  He hung up the telephone and walked down to the master bedroom.

  Gloria Lippincott was alone in the room. Her belly swelling gently, she sat in front of the makeup dresser, applying mascara to her eyes.

  "Elena's dead," Beers said as he closed the door behind

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  Gloria slowly put down the mascara tube and turned toward Mm.

  "What happened?"

  "I don't know. Our receptionist found her with her throat cut. She said she saw those two men your husband was with. The old Chink and the skinny dude."

  "Goddamit, I guessed they were trouble when Elmer told me about them," Gloria said. "What about the receptionist? Will she talk?"

  "No," Beers said. "I told her to lock up and go home and wait for me. She's got the hots for me. She'll wait."

  "Doesn't everybody?" asked Gloria.

  Jesse Beers grinned. "Present company included."

  "Don't flatter yourself," Gloria said. "You're a tool with a tool and don't forget it."

  "I know it," Beers said. He sounded deflated.

  "And we're both hi this for one thing only. The money. Certainly not because I like ruining my figure and walking around carrying this baby of yours in my belly."

  "Who knows?" he said. "You might like it."

  Gloria did not answer. She was drumming her fingers on the dressing table.

  "All right," she finally said. "We've got to get rid of Douglas. Then you can split."

  "What about the old man?" asked Beers.

  "He can wait. Maybe later when all this blows over. Hell, he's eighty years old. He might just conk any minute without any help from us."

  "I don't like it," Beers said. "Maybe we ought to just call everything off."

  "Lover getting cold feet?" Gloria taunted. "Listen,

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  we've gone this far and we're not stopping now. I don't think anybody's going to connect Elena's death with Lem and Randall dying, but even suppose they did. You were here when both those twits died. You're just a doctor in residence making sure Elmer Lippincott's baby is born healthy and well."

  Jesse Beers pursed his lips as he thought. Then he nodded.

  "Where do I find Douglas?" he said.

  "That's the beautiful part. He's here. The old man told him he wanted to see him."

  "He's not going to tell what he did, is he?" asked Beers.

  "No, you don't understand the Lippincotts, Jesse A little guilt goes a long way. So he was feeling guilty last night blaming himself for the two twerps' deaths. But it was all gone by morning. He just wants to talk to Douglas about handling more of the business, now that the brothers are dead."

  "All right. How should I do it?"

  She mulled a moment, sucking on the tip of her right index finger.

  "I'll get Elmer to come up here and when I do you slip downstairs and get rid of the twerp."

  Beers nodded.

  "Can you make it look like his heart?"

  "Sure," Beers said. "I've got medicines that can make anything look like anything."

  "Good. Now get out of here and let me finish my eyes. I'll call Elmer up here in ten minutes. Then you can get Douglas in the study. But let me finish my eyes first." She smiled at Beers. "I want Elmer to stay up here with me for a while."

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  "Who wouldn't stay at your invitation?" Beers asked.

  "Flatterer. Even with this belly you gave me?"

  "If it was twice as big."

  "Get away now and let me do my thing. Ten minutes, I'll have him here."

  Remo drove. Chiun sat in the back seat while Ruby explained to them what she had learned from Dr. Gladstone.

  "She was the one that killed the two Lippincotts," she said. "And Zack Meadows before that."

  "Who's Zack Meadows?" Remo asked.

  "He the detective who wrote the letter to the President about the plot to kill the Lippincotts. She killed him and somebody who tipped Meadows on what she was doing. Then she killed the two brothers."

  "And she's dead now," Remo said, "so why are we racing up to the Lippincott estate?"

  "Because of something she said," Ruby said.

  "What'd she say?" asked Remo.

  "Did she tell you what I did with the pencils?" Chiun asked.

  "No," said Ruby.

  "She seemed very impressed," Chiun said.

  "What'd she say?" Remo repeated. . "I asked her why the Lippincotts," Ruby said. "And she said 'we're going to get rid of all of

  them'!"

  "So what? She's dead," Remo said.

  "She said 'we're.' Not her. She's got a partner in

  it."

  "Or partners," Chiun said. " 'We're' could mean more than one extra person with her."

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  "That's right," Ruby said. "She say something else too."

  "What's that?" Remo asked.

  "She said the Lippincott money would be theirs. I said the heirs might have something to say about that. She said 'they will, they will.' "

  "What does that mean?" Remo asked.

  "Just that I think she's got a partner in the family."

  "That old man," Remo said. "I didn't like that old man from the minute I met him."

  "That's ageist," said Chiun. "That's the worst kind of ageist statement I've ever heard. Admit it, you didn't like him just because he was old."

  "That's probably true," Remo said. "Old people are a pain in the ass. They kvetch and bicker and carp, day and night, night and day. If it's not elevators, it's notes under the door. There's always something for them to bitch about."

  "Ageist. But what would you expect from somebody who's racist and sexist and imperialist?" Chiun said.

  "Right on, Little Daddy," said Ruby.

  Remo grunted and stepped harder on the gas pedal as the car thundered forward onto the New York Thruway, heading north toward the Lippincott estate.

  Elmer Lippincott Sr. was feeling better. His young wife always knew the way to cheer him up. Last night, he had felt guilt-ridden at the death of two sons, but today, he was able to see it in perspective. First of all, they weren't his sons. He hadn't any sons. Dr. Gladstone at the Lifeline Laboratory had

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  proved that conclusively, not only with blood tests conducted without the Lippincott sons' knowledge, but also by proving indisputably to the senior Lippincott that he had been sterile all his life. He had been unable to father children. Those three—Lem and Randall and Douglas—nothing but the offspring of a cheating wife, now blessedly dead, thank you.

  So Gloria had explained to him, there really wasn't much to feel guilty about. But they were dead, and he hadn't really wanted them dead.

  Gloria had held him in her arms and explained that away too.

  "They were unavoidable accidents," she said. "You didn't plan it that way and you can't blame yourself for their deaths. Just accidents."

  And he had thought about it and felt better and soon he would have a son of his own thanks to Dr. Gladstone's fertility drugs, which made him a man again and helped him to fill Gloria with his own son.

  And what of Douglas, the surviving Lippincott son? Well, it wasn't his fault that his mother had been a cheat, cuckolding her husband. Elmer Lippincott would treat him just like a son for the rest of his

  life.

  He had decided that and he was in the middle of a good early-morning meeting with his son when the telephone rang.

  "Yes, dear," he said. "Of course. I'll be right up. Shall I bring Douglas? Oh, I see." He hung up the phone and told his son: "Doug, wait for me, will you? Gloria has to talk to me about something. I'll be right down."

  "Sure thing, Pop," said Douglas Lippincott. He was the youngest of the three sons and the most like

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  the senior Lippincott. He moved with a muscular kind of energy that years of sitting in boardrooms and bankers' offices
hadn't been able to destroy. Elmer Lippincott had often thought that of the three boys, Douglas was the only one he'd like to have on his side in a saloon fight.

  As the old man left the office on the first floor of the mansion, Douglas Lippincott smiled. Young Gloria certainly had the old man's nose. When she said bark, he barked, and when she said come, he came. He wondered how she was taking the double tragedies that had hit the Lippincott family, but he suspected she'd be able to bear up under the anguish. He had watched her house-counting eyes too many times to be fooled into thinking that she loved the old man for the old man's sake. It was the Lippincott billions that she really loved.

  Douglas walked to the corner of the room where there was a desk ashtray with a telescoping collapsible golf putter built into the side of it. He had given it to his father years before to try to convince him to relax. But the old man would have none of it. He had never used the putter.

  There was a round rubber eraser on the old man's desk and Douglas put a paper cup on the floor, opened the putter to its full length, then from six feet away tried to roll the eraser into the cup. It bounced along the carpet unevenly and at the last moment, swung away and missed the cup completely.

  Douglas fished it back with the putter and was lining up the shot again when the door opened behind him. He turned around expecting to see his father.

  Instead, he saw Dr. Jesse Beers, who was walking hice Napoleon, both hands clasped behind him.

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  Douglas Lippincott didn't like Jesse Beers either. The man always seemed to be scheming something. He turned back to his putt.

  "Hello, Doctor," he said

  "Good morning, Mister Lippincott."

  As he lined up the putt, Douglas realized it was strange for Beers to walk into Elmer Lippincott's office without knocking. And now that he was here, what did he want? He turned to ask and as he turned he saw Beers moving toward him. The man had a hypodermic in his hand.

  Douglas tried to swing at Beers with the putter but he was too close and Beers was able to grab it and yanked it from Douglas's hands.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked.

  "Tidying up loose ends," Beers said. "Now take your medicine like a good little boy."

  He advanced toward Douglas with the syringe in one hand, the golf club in the other.

  "I promise it won't hurt," he said.

  "Up yours," said Douglas. He reached his hand up to the bookcase behind him, grabbed an armful of books and tossed them at Beers. One hit the syringe and knocked it to the gold colored carpeting on the floor.

  Beers dove for the needle and Lippincott came after him to grapple for it. But Beers grabbed the handle of the putter and swung it at Lippincott. It caught him on the side of the jaw, laying open his skin and knocking him to the floor.

  He lay there groggily while Beers picked up the syringe and came toward him again.

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  He reached down for Lippincott's arm. Then he heard a voice.

  "You lose."

  Lippincott looked up dazedly. In the doorway stood a lean, dark-haired man. Behind him was a black woman and an old Oriental in a yellow robe.

  "Who the hell are you?" snarled Beers. "Get out of here."

  "Game's over," Remo said.

  Beers growled and waving the hypodermic over his head like a miniature spear, raced at Remo, his face contorted with rage and furey.

  Lippincott shook his head to clear it. He wanted to shout to the thin man in the doorway that Beers was dangerous. He blinked. When he opened his eyes again, the thin man was inside the room, behind Beers. Beers was upon the old Oriental. The old man, without even seeming to move, spun Beers about until he was facing back into the room, then propelled him toward the thin man.

  As Beers came within reach, Remo moved in, removed the syringe from his hand, and tapped him in the thick part of his left leg, halfway between knee and hip. The doctor's leg gave way and Beers fell to the carpeted floor.

  Remo tossed the syringe on the desk, and turned his back on Beers. He asked Lippincott:

  "You Douglas?"

  Lippmcott nodded.

  "You okay?"

  "I'll live," Douglas said.

  "You'll be the first one this week," Remo said. He turned back to Beers. As he did, Ruby moved in and stood by the desk.

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  "All right, sweetheart," Remo said. "Hard or easy?"

  "I want a lawyer," Beers said. "I'll have your ass."

  "Hard," Remo said. "Have it your way." Remo's hand spun out and he grabbed the lobe of Beers's left ear. He twisted it. It felt to Beers as if it were coming off.

  "Easy," he yelled. "Easy, easy."

  Remo relaxed his grip and Jesse Beers talked. He told everything. The plot; how it worked; who was behind it; how the conspirators had conned Elmer Lippincott Sr. As he spoke, Douglas Lippincott raised himself to a sitting position. The blood flow down his cheek had slowed to a trickle and his eyes lit up with anger. He got slowly to his feet, and walked alongside Remo, glaring down at Beers.

  "Let that bastard go," he told Remo.

  "What for?" Remo asked.

  "I want him," Douglas Lippincott said.

  "All yours," Remo said. He released Beers's ear and stepped back. Lippincott reached back his fist to punch the taller, heavier doctor. But at the last second, Beers scrambled to his feet and ran to the desk. He reached around Ruby for the syringe, but she held it in her hand behind her back. Beers lifted his hand to hit Ruby. She swung the syringe around, buried it deep into Beers's side and depressed the

  plunger.

  "Ow," Beers yelled. Then he looked down at the syringe in her hand. He looked up at her face, questioning, panic and fear in his eyes. He turned to look around the room. At Remo. At Chiun, who was examining the paintings on the walls, at Douglas Lip-

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  pincott. The faces he saw were hard and uncaring. He tried to speak but no words would come, and he felt his heart begin to pound, and his limbs grow leaden, and his eyes start to close, and then it was hard to breathe, and his brain told him to cry out for help, but before he could, the messages stopped coming from the brain and Jesse Beers fell to the floor dead.

  Lippincott looked down in shock. He looked up at Ruby who was nonchalantly examining the syringe. Chiun continued to examine the paintings, shaking his head and clucking. Remo spied the putter on the floor and said to Lippincott "This yours?"

  "No. My father's," Lippincott said. "Hey, this man is dead. Don't any of you care?"

  "No business of mine," Ruby said. Chiun asked Lippincott how much the oil painting on the wall was worth. Remo said, "You're trying to putt this eraser into that cup?" ,

  Lippincott nodded.

  "It won't roll true," Remo said.

  "I found that out," Lippincott said.

  "You have to chip it in," Remo said. He dropped the putter head sharply onto the back edge of the eraser. It popped the lump of rubber up into the air and it plopped heavily into the paper cup six feet away.

  "See? like that," Remo said. "Actually, I'm a pretty good putter."

  Lippincott shook his head. "I don't know who you people are, but I guess I should thank you."

  "About time too," Chiun said.

  "Now I've got some business to transact," Douglas said.

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  "Mind if we come along?" Remo said. "Just to close the books?"

  "Be my guest," Lippincott said.

  "Good," said Ruby still holding the syringe. "I love family arguments. When they ain't my family."

  "If your family's like you," Remo said, stepping over Jesse Beers's corpse, "don't argue with them. They're all prone to violence."

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  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  "Are you feeling better now, dear?" Ehner Lippincott Sr. paced nervously alongside the bed, where his wife lay under a thin satin sheet.

  "Yes, darling," Gloria said. "I'm sorry. Just for a moment there, I was depressed. I thought . . . well, I thought,
what if something goes wrong with the baby?"

  "Nothing will go wrong," Lippincott said. "That's why we've got Beers here. Where is he anyway?"

  "No, Ehner, it's all right. I called him and he examined me and said there was nothing wrong. But, well, he's not you, sweetheart. I needed you. I'm all right now. You can go back to your meeting."

  "If you're sure," Lippincott said.

  "I'm sure. Go. I'm going to rest and get my strength so I can give you the nicest son."

  Lippincott nodded. A voice behind him said, "A son, but why don't you tell Trim whose it is?"

  Ehner lippincott wheeled, his face red with anger. Douglas stood in the doorway. Behind him Lippincott saw the man Remo and the old Oriental and a young black woman.

  "What the hell do you mean by that, Douglas?"

  Douglas Lippincott stepped into the room.

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  "You fool," he snapped. "They say there's no fool like an old fool and I guess you prove that. That's not your soa she's carrying, you goddam simp."

  "I'll remind you where you are and you're aren't welcome here any longer," Lippincott said. "It'd be better if you left."

  "I'll leave when I'm goddam good and ready," Douglas said. "But first I'm going to tell you what happened and how you managed to be the partner in the murder of two of your sons."

  "They weren't my sons, if you want to know. Neither are you. Three bastards," Lippincott said.

  "You senile, doddering idiot. That was a line they fed you. Dr. Gladstone and Beers, they were working together. First they conned you with that story that you had been sterile all your life and we weren't your sons. Then they steamed you up to punish us and they killed Lern and Randall."

  The old man looked confused. He looked past his son at Chiun who nodded. He looked at Remo who said, "What do you want from me? Listen to your kid for a change."

  "Why?" asked Lippincott.

  "You clown," Douglas said. "So they shoot you up with monkey hormones so you feel like a young goat again and you go sailing off with that cheap piece of trim." He pointed at Gloria who shouted "No, no, no," and sank down in the bed.