„And the food was very bad.“ Mallory faced St. John, squaring off in a pugilist stance. „German soldiers were your best customers. No officers, though. Unless you count the night Malakhai wore that Gestapo uniform on stage.“ How was she faring under St. John’s appraising eyes? She could tell nothing from his placid face. What would it take to unnerve this man?
„Still, we did a good business.“ Nick Prado stepped into the awkward silence between Mallory and St. John, and he filled their glasses. „There were just too many free drinks for the Germans. So there was never enough money to go around.“ He picked up Mallory’s discarded glass and put it into her hand. „But it was a grand party. It went on for years.“
„But no profits.“ Mallory kept her eyes on St. John. „You all had day jobs to pick up the slack. What was yours?“
„I had a flair for picking pockets.“ The large man bowed from the waist as he held out a bright gold object swinging from a watch fob. „I believe this is yours.“
Mallory was now holding unwanted wine in one hand and her pocket watch in the other. Her source at Interpol had confirmed St. John’s history, and she was trying to reconcile his law enforcement career with this talent for theft. It never occurred to her to look in the mirror for clarity as she set down her glass. „How did Louisa make money?“
Emile St. John spoke first. He would always be the lead in this company. The others deferred to him. „Louisa played her violin on the street.“
Futura slugged back his wine, saying, „But she made more money playing poker in a back room of the theater.“
„The same back room where she was murdered?“
A moment of sobriety stole over Futura’s face. Then Prado slapped him between the shoulder blades, as if this would knock the man back into a happy drunk – and it did.
„Louisa’s death was a tragedy,“ said St. John. „An accident.“
She turned around to face him. „Like Oliver’s accident?“
„Exactly.“ He smiled, pleased that she understood – finally.
„I can prove Oliver was murdered.“ She looked from face to face. Only Futura was showing some wear, losing the glow of the wine once again.
Prado gave her a stage leer. „So pretty to have such a morbid interest in murder. Is there anything else in your life – besides death?“
„It’s a professional interest, Prado.“ She watched him in peripheral vision, not bothering to look his way, only tossing this remark in the air. „I know what you did in the war. You threw in with the British. You were an expert marksman.“
„A bit more to it than that.“ His smile was gracious, making allowances for her oversight, her failure to fully appreciate him. „On the stage, I was a master of the trick shot.“
„You were a sniper.“ She said this as if it were an insult, glancing at him, as if she had just noticed him standing three feet away and found him inconsequential. „You never got this close to your victims. They were the size of insects when you killed them. And that works nicely with the murder attempt at the parade. I just happen to be looking for a long-distance killer – the man who fired that gun.“
He laughed out loud, disappointing her. She had been aiming for a display of temper.
„Is that what this is all about? Who shot the big puppy?“ Prado pointed to her untouched glass. „Drink your wine, Mallory. Lighten up.“
St. John was more serious. „If this is a police interrogation, perhaps I should call my attorney.“
„But you couldn’t have shot the balloon.“ Futura spread his lips in a silly grin. He tottered over to Emile St. John and squeezed the larger man’s arm in a reassuring gesture. „When that gun went off, you were on the float with me.“
„The next time,“ said Mallory, „the sniper won’t mess up the shot. One of you is going to be seriously dead. If you like your skins, you’ll talk to me. It all ties back to Louisa’s murder. Why don’t we start there?“
„When Louisa died,“ said Prado, „we didn’t have any experience in killing- None of us were in the war yet.“
„Not true.“ Futura stood up, a little wobbly for the wine. „Emile was in the war. He worked for the Resistance.“
St. John was taken by surprise for the first time. „You knew that, Franny? But how?“
„Let me guess.“ Mallory turned on Futura. „Because it takes one to know one?“
„Guilty,“ he said.
Mallory moved closer to Futura. „And there’s one other way you could’ve known – if you worked for the Germans.“
Prado draped one protective arm around the shoulders of the drunken man. „I told you, Mallory. Half of Paris worked for the Germans. I had some dealings with them myself. I loved American cigarettes, but the Germans had the best French wines. What’s a boy to do?“
Mallory ignored him and spoke to Futura. „Resistance fighters? That’s another way of saying terrorists. You and Emile tossed your bombs and ran away before they hit the ground. So between you two – “ She glanced at Prado. „And this sniper – I now have three long-distance killers.“
„You make it sound so cold,“ said Prado. „Not like a police officer’s job, is it? You run toward the enemy. You want to embrace him, to bring him down. It’s very sexual, isn’t it? Is there an absence of normal sex in your life, Detective Mallory?“
„Nick,“ was all St. John had to say. He was the voice of censure here, and the other man reluctantly retired to one side of the stage.
Mallory followed Prado across the boards. She was not done with him vet. „In 1942, you had a nice little business going. I saw some of your handiwork on Louisa’s passport.“ She turned back to St. John and Futura. „All of you had something to lose if she was captured by the Germans. Their prisoners always talked, didn’t they?“
„Vichy French were just as vicious,“ said Prado. „And what would the Germans want with Louisa? She was a schoolgirl when she came to Pans.“
Mallory turned back to him and shook her head, to tell this man she had caught him in a lie. „You knew Louisa wasn’t just another refugee. When Malakhai brought her to Paris, he cut off her hair and dressed her as a boy.
Then he hid her in the one place no one would think to look for her – nder a spotlight on a stage surrounded by German soldiers. Even if he ever told you she was an escaped prisoner, you knew she was wanted. You all knew.“
She focused her attention on Futura, the one most likely to fold, drunk or sober „Malakhai shot his wife with a crossbow. But he’s not the one who killed her. The murder went down after he ran out of the theater.“
Futura turned to Nick Prado, perhaps believing that he spoke in a whisper. „Malakhai broke the – “
Prado put one arm around the man, stared into his drunken face and willed him to be silent.
St John refilled their glasses. „Less talking, more drinking, Franny.“ He turned to Mallory. „So this is an official police interrogation?“
„Not at all.“ she said. „More like I’m doing you a favor. One of you murdered Louisa.“ Mallory was staring at Futura, pleased to see him spill his wine this time. She leaned close to his ear. „Better I get you before Malakhai does. You know what he did in the war. All his kills were ripped to pieces.“
Prado was not smiling anymore as he replenished Futura’s lost wine. „We all agreed to keep quiet about Louisa – for Malakhai’s sake. It’s old business, Mallory. Let it go.“
„Oliver’s death was pretty damn recent.“
„But what has that got to do with Louisa?“ Prado seemed genuinely annoyed.
„Oliver helped Max Candle and Malakhai work on the platform, but he didn’t see the rest of you between 1942 and the day he died in Central Park.“ She turned from face to face, watching for the giveaway look to tell her she might be wrong about this, that they might have lied in their police statements. „So fifty years go by. And then he comes up with this cryptic invitation. One of you thought he was going to talk about Louisa’s death. A murder charge never go
es away. But it gets really scary if you know her husband’s war record. Who would want Malakhai for an enemy?“ Who besides herself?
Futura put his hand to his mouth, a signal of impending vomit. Nick Prado nodded and led the man down the steps toward the lobby, saying, „I guess the party’s over, Franny.“
St. John followed after them. When the lobby door had closed behind the trio, Mallory drew the curtain aside to expose the replica of Max Candle’s platform. This time she checked the crossbow magazines for arrows before she climbed the thirteen steps to the top.
She spent a few quiet minutes on her hands and knees, making measurements and inspecting the floor levers. Their positions were an exact match to Max Candle’s original platform. The only difference was in the hinges of the trapdoors. These were better, sturdier. There was no wide crack in the floorboards where the hinges joined with the stage.
When she was done with the exterior, she touched the pressure latch on the wall near the center panel, and the door swung open. She stared at the dim interior. In her younger days, she would never have entered this room, for there was only one exit, and Kathy the street-smart child had always avoided every enclosure with the makings of a trap. Even now, she was not comfortable with the idea of going inside.
What made her look back she could not say. Emile St. John had made no noise stealing up behind her. He was holding out her pocket watch – again.
„Sorry, force of habit.“ He returned it to her, then walked back through the opening in the curtain, heading for the makeshift table. He picked up the full wineglass she had left on the mirror. „There’s something we should discuss. Perhaps over a drink.“
Mallory accepted the plastic goblet from his outstretched hand. „You want me to stop scaring Franny Futura.“
„Well, that would be nice.“ He smiled as he poured more wine for himself. „Franny was always a timid soul. But I’m sure you guessed that within a minute of meeting him.“
She nodded. „So how did he wind up in the Resistance? It doesn’t square with – “
„Molotov cocktails and tommy guns?“ He laughed as if this were a great joke. „In Paris, Franny’s day job was clerking in the post office. Never tossed a bomb in his life, never held a gun. His Resistance work was intercepting denouncement letters. Do you – “
„Letters from snitches.“ Personally, she was in favor of snitches. The police department could not run without them.
„Yes, it was a nasty wartime habit, people turning on one another.“ He walked back behind the curtain and sat down on the bottom step of the platform. „But the real offenses were rarely mentioned. Is your neighbor’s dog peeing on your azaleas? Is the postman diddling your wife? Well then, denounce him as a subversive. Do it in a secret letter. No need to sign your name.“
St. John leaned one arm on the step behind him and regarded her glass with suspicion.
Because she was not drinking with him?
She tipped back the wineglass – a sip to keep him talking.
„It still goes on,“ he said. „Reporters and their secret sources – cockroaches who won’t come out in the light. We haven’t learned a damn thing from the war.“
When he paused, she took another sip. Riker had always maintained that he did not trust anyone who refused to lift a glass with him. She had never gone drinking with Riker, and that might explain a lot.
„Franny saved a lot of lives with his interceptions,“ said St. John. „But he existed in a permanent state of fear – waiting for the knock on the door, the arrest in the middle of the night. Do you have any idea what monstrous things were done to people like him? A bullet in the head would’ve been a kindness. And here you are, Mallory, young and strong, carrying a gun and knocking on Franny’s door.“
She considered this new role he had cast her in – the monster. „Can I ask you something – cop to cop?“
He only smiled at this. Perhaps Malakhai had told him about dropping that bit of information into the dinner conversation.
She sat down beside him on the step. „You quit magic in the fifties. So I have to wonder about your assets, large assets. You didn’t amass that capital on the salary of an Interpol bureau chief.“
That got no rise out of him either. And that was odd. The long tour of duty with Interpol was not information from Malakhai, but gleaned from her computer connection at the foreign bureau. Had St. John been expecting this? Yes, that was in his smile, which said, At last.
So her Internet pen pal in Europe had ratted her out.
That weasel, that miserable little -
„You’re right.“ St. John sipped his wine, savoring it, taking his own time. „My stage career was a short one compared to all the years at Interpol. But I did inherit sizeable investments from my family. I wasn’t in the black market, if that’s what you – “
„Let’s back up. In 1942, you were a rookie policeman in Paris. I know Louisa’s death certificate was faked. You were on the crime scene the night she died. What did – “
„Now you’re only guessing.“ St. John put up one hand, in the manner of a traffic cop, to stop Mallory’s lie of protest before it was fully formed in her mind. He produced a cigar from a platinum case, then gestured to her wineglass. „You drink, I’ll talk.“
She watched him go through the stalling machinations of taking a small clipper from his breast pocket, then cutting the tip off the end of his cigar. He pocketed the clipper and slowly searched his suit for the lighter. Mallory liked his style; she was taking mental notes on torture-by-delay as she tapped her foot – waiting for him to get on with this.
„Mallory, I know you made inquiries about me. I spoke to the Interpol agent – your Internet playmate.“ He feigned sadness with a slow shake of the head. „You really should pick your friends better. Philippe Breton was not discreet. I’ve been retired for fifteen years, so he must have gone through a great deal of trouble to track me down at my New York hotel. He called to ask if I had actually met you. Wanted to know what his mysterious American cop looked like.“
St. John flicked his gold lighter and puffed on the cigar, exhaling a cloud of smoke. „He’s a shallow young man. You’re much too good for him. So I told Philippe that you had thick glasses and thicker ankles. Forgive me, Mallory, but I also gave you a rather bad skin condition. I hope you don’t mind my taking an avuncular interest.“
They spent a quiet moment of companionable silence, watching the smoke escape to the catwalk high above them. She sipped her champagne, and he continued.
„Of course, Philippe won’t be chatting with you anymore. He’s doing fieldwork now – no more computers. You see, I gave his superiors quite a different description. I told them about your golden hair, your lovely green eyes – your insatiable quest for knowledge. They thought it best to remove the young man from temptation. You wouldn’t expect that attitude from the French, now would you?“
„Nice work.“ And she meant that. She was not angry that he had killed off her Interpol connection. Emile St. John had been a good cop in his day. If it turned out that he had murdered Oliver, she would not hesitate to put him in line for the death penalty, but there would be some regret. „You know I’m going to interrogate Futura. So you’re planning to get him a lawyer, right?“
„Absolutely.“ He exhaled a smoke ring and watched it rise in a halo until it disappeared. „My lawyers are quite good. I’m afraid they won’t allow you to terrorize poor Franny on some fishing expedition for evidence. But it’s these unofficial interviews that bother me. That will have to stop. I don’t want to bludgeon you with money and influence – so crude. But I will if you force me.“
This threat was more than she had hoped for. He would not go to this trouble if Futura were not a gold mine of information. But she was suspicious of everything that came to her too easily. There might be another motive: Perhaps St. John was simply a decent man who would not stand by while she tortured his pet rabbit.
„What did you do for the Resistance?“ And per
their established ritual, she sipped her wine to lead him on.
„Some men like to talk about the war. I don’t.“ St. John studied her face for a moment. Whatever he saw in her eyes, it disturbed him. „And now I must go.“ He lifted the bottle from the floor and set it on the stair beside her. „I’ll trust you to finish this. It would be a crime to waste vintage champagne.“
„I suppose some people have good reason to hide what they did in the war.“
He paused by the front curtain. „I don’t expect you to understand, Mallory. You weren’t there.“
„You knew Futura was in the Resistance. They asked you to keep an eye on him, right? You were his watcher.“
He turned to face her. „Very good, Mallory. Yes, some people were concerned about Franny’s timid nature. But that’s what made him a personal hero to me.“
„How many people knew about your connection to the Resistance?“
„Four men. Three of them are dead.“
„And Futura wasn’t one of them. That’s why you were surprised that he would know. Who would trust him with a secret like that? You didn’t. That was pretty obvious.“ Still his face gave up nothing useful. „I don’t think you and Prado traveled in the same circles with Futura. Neither one of you has seen him since the war. Am I right?“
St. John nodded. „The theater closed down after Louisa died. That was the end of everything. We were all – “
„When Futura said you were in the Resistance, Prado wasn’t surprised.“
„Well, Nick always knew. I made good use of his forgeries.“
„You missed my point. I was watching Prado’s face. He wasn’t surprised that Futura knew. Your old friend was the one who told him. And now you’re asking yourself – when did Prado give you up? Was it last week? Or during the occupation? When did he give your secret away to that frightened little man?“
Shell Game Page 23
