"I've seen crazy, boy. And you fit crazy better than that Jefferson kid ever could." That was Runson.
"Not this angel." Carter was doing good cop a little too good. I heard Runson snort in disgust. It sounded like he agreed with me.
"Angel?"
"Well. He does what he's told. Better than some I can name." He raised his voice. "Who are gonna get it here in a minute!"
Montgomery said, "Don't you believe me?" It was a pleading voice.
"I do," said Carter.
Runson said, "If it was Jefferson, then why?"
There are moments when you're trying to get information out of someone when you say something, intentionally or not, and it's as though everything they've been holding back on comes spilling out. Almost as soon as Montgomery started to talk, I knew that we had arrived at that moment with him.
"Tom was jealous. He was jealous of me. I was trying to help Michael. He killed Michael to keep him from me. Michael was going to run away. And Tom kept him from doing that."
There was a pause. I knew that Montgomery had just confessed. Of course, he had done what many very disturbed people do and turned the story around to make it look like it wasn't him. Everything he was claiming about Tom applied to him. I could hear it in his voice. I was pretty sure Runson did, too. Now, the problem was how to get him to confess.
"You might as well let him go, Carter." That was Runson's tactic.
"But does he want to leave?"
At that moment, I was sure that Montgomery was imagining what life would be like to live with the money-grubbing partner of a very wealthy man. I'm sure he was trying to figure out how to convince Carter to sell this dump and buy some mansion on Nob Hill. I was also damn sure he was trying to figure out how to kill me so that Carter inherited everything. Following a very sad funeral, he would get Carter to draw up a new will naming him as beneficiary. By the end of this year, Montgomery could be a very wealthy man. In his own mind, at least.
Montgomery said, "No."
I heard Carter backhand the man.
"I didn't ask you."
I looked over at Andy whose face was between amused and scandalized. I just shook my head.
Runson laughed. "I think he just wet himself."
"Did I do that?" Carter asked. I could hear concern in his voice. More good cop. And, knowing Carter, he was truly concerned.
"Yes." That was Montgomery.
"I've been thinking for a while of bringing a new boy into the house. But..." And there was a good, long pause.
"I can't take a chance with someone who might be lying to me. I can take the truth. Anything. But what I can't take is a liar."
"You should see what he's done to Nick when he's caught Nick in a lie."
"I would..."
Carter smacked him this time.
Runson laughed. "You sure aren't good at this, are you Mr. Montgomery?"
There was a long silence.
"Well?" That was Runson.
"My friend asked you a question." That was Carter.
"I just wanted to say that I wouldn't lie. I'm not lying about Michael. It was Tom. It had to be Tom. He was jealous of me."
He was doing so well until he forgot and brought himself back into the story. That's what gave him away, once again. I knew Runson was hearing that as well.
"Jealous of you?" That was Carter and he sounded very sweet, as though he couldn't believe such a thing could be possible.
Runson spat. "Of you? Jealous? You're nothing but a tall scarecrow. Michael was a beautiful young man. And Tom Jefferson. Well, someday I'll have my way with him. I've seen the way he walks around in a pair of trousers."
Carter said, "If he was jealous of you, baby, then why did he kill Michael?"
"Because he knew Michael loved me. And he did."
"Did he tell you that?" That was Runson.
"And, remember, baby, I don't like liars."
"Well..." Montgomery was buying this hook, line, and sinker. "Not in so many words. It was mostly in his eyes. The way he looked at me."
"The way he looked at you?" Carter was doing a great job at keeping the man engaged.
"You know. Like a little puppy. He was so cute. So handsome. I just wanted to eat him up."
"So, you didn't kill him?" That was Runson.
"Remember..." That was Carter.
"No! It was Tom. He did it. He was jealous of me."
"I hope you're not lying. Carter doesn't like liars. I've seen him forgive Nick for things that would make your toes curl if you heard about them. But lying. That's a different matter."
"Baby. You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" I was beginning to get a little nauseous.
"No. Never."
I heard Carter slap the man. "Well, you're doing it now, aren't you?"
"How?"
Runson laughed bitterly. "Everyone lies now and then. Like, I could tell you I was a cop, for example."
"Are you?"
Carter hit him again. I knew he didn't like this. I wondered how long they could hold out.
"Does it matter?" Runson asked.
"Well... Yes. If I told you the truth, then you..." He stopped. I figured he realized what he was about to do.
"He hates liars." Runson was running that to ground. I hoped it wasn't too fast.
"But..."
One more slap.
"Baby. You be good for me, won't you? Won't you tell me the truth?"
"But I am."
"Are you?" asked Runson.
"I..."
"What baby? Just tell me." I heard a kiss. Andy put his hand on my shoulder. I just nodded.
"I... I did kill Michael. He was going to leave me. He was going to leave everyone." I could hear Montgomery breathing heavy.
Carter said, "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"
Montgomery said, "No." He sounded relieved.
Runson said, "Ronald Montgomery. My name is Lieutenant Dawson Runson of the Washington, D.C., Metropolitan Police. I am arresting you for the murder of Michael Bushman."
"What?" It was the most agony-filled word I'd ever heard.
Epilogue
On the previous Saturday, when Mike and his squeeze had come for our cook-out, we'd arranged for him to find someone in the San Francisco police who would be willing to take charge of whoever fell for our trap.
Once the San Francisco police had Montgomery, then it was up to a judge to decide about extradition back to D.C. We were counting on Montgomery's sense of decorum to keep him from claiming that he'd been kidnapped. Every trace of evidence pointed to the fact that he had followed us all the way across the country under his own volition.
He was sent back to Washington quickly because of the high-profile nature of the murder. The death of the son of a prominent senator demanded a lot of attention. The Examiner used the speed of the San Francisco police, the district attorney, and the courts as an example of a return to the kind of law and order The City deserved. It wasn't lost on any of us that The City had nothing to do with that. But, that was fine with me, at least.
I didn't expect a call from Tom or the senator about the work we'd done. And I didn't get one either. But I also didn't expect any more subpoenas to testify before the subcommittee either. That was thanks enough.
We helped Mrs. Wilson and Marnie get moved in to their new house on Collingwood. We spent all day on Wednesday painting the inside. Carter worked on a few repairs. Miguel, our lawn guy, came over and cleaned up the backyard which had become a small jungle while the house had been empty.
On Thursday, their new furniture was delivered, so they were able to move in that day and that was that.
Of course, Mrs. Wilson's campaign to rehabilitate my image among the ladies who played mah jong continued unabated. Once they knew she was in the neighborhood to stay, she became a real force to be reckoned with.
Thursday night was a celebration night for Carter and me. With Marnie and her mother settled on Collingwood, we had the house to ourselves. I cooked my chicken po
t pie by request. It never made it into the oven.
. . .
On that next Friday morning, as we were lying in bed together, I asked Carter how he felt about getting so physical with Montgomery.
He turned over and looked at me for a long time. "I hated it."
I nodded. I'd figured as much.
"I don't ever want to have to do that again."
I shrugged. "You might have to. You're very good at the good cop, bad cop routine. You don't need any help to do it, which is pretty impressive."
He pulled me in close. "I just wanna be sweet on you. I don't want our love making to be..."
I snuggled into his arms. "I know. Me neither."
"How did you feel when I hit you?"
"Two things. You know how to pull a punch." He laughed. "And, you could get a job in Hollywood doing stunts."
"But, did it hurt?" I knew this was bothering him.
"No. I knew you were acting. I can see the difference in your face and hear it in your voice. There was maybe one time when you were talking to Montgomery that I think you wanted to hit him. But only once."
We were so tangled up that I couldn't see Carter's face. "Only once. I got angry for a moment. Then I remembered that we were doing this for Michael and Tom and his father."
"I wonder if the real story will ever get out?"
"I hope not. For the senator's sake, at least."
"But don't you think that sort of thing..."
Carter said, "No. I think that Michael was getting ready to leave. That's why he destroyed the first floor the way he did. Tom needed order. But Michael needed freedom." He paused. As he did, he ran his big hands up and down my back. "I keep thinking of that studio."
I laughed. "It was a mess. What was he doing up there? It looked like to me that all he was good at was throwing paint around."
"He was expressing himself. That was freedom. That's something that seems to be disappearing these days. We're all supposed to be the same. But Michael wanted..." Carter thought for a moment. "He painted freedom."
Carter was right. Michael was never going to be able to really express himself on the second floor where everything was clean and cool. He was too alive. Too messy. Now I was wishing I'd met him.
. . .
Runson had accompanied Montgomery back to Washington along with a U.S. Marshal. When he reported back to his captain, he was reprimanded for a number of things, including operating outside the jurisdiction without permission. He handed over his badge and his gun and walked out of the precinct. Andy was on the street waiting for him, or so they told us once they were back in San Francisco.
Robert found them a nice two bedroom apartment in one of my buildings. It was the same one that Mike and Bud moved into. That was nice.
Once Jeffery had the papers of incorporation drawn up and we were officially a going concern, I went over to his office for a meeting.
I walked into the reception area and, sure enough, there was a pretty gal sitting at the desk. The room was full of clients waiting to see a lawyer. Jeffery had brought on five new attorneys to replace the three he'd gotten rid of. He had even told me he was thinking of taking more office space if he could get it. If not, he might have to move out of The Shell Building and find somewhere more accommodating.
I introduced myself to Ruth, the new receptionist. She buzzed Jeffery who said for me to come back, so I did.
I walked down the long hallway to his office thinking about the long history of our professional and personal relationship. A lot of things had happened for both of us in that time, but none more important than what had happened in the last month.
I knew in my gut that Jeffery's change in attitude was exactly what Mrs. Wilson had said. He was in pain over the murder of Taylor. And I couldn't blame him for that.
I knocked on his office door. I heard him say, "Come in."
As always, I was happy to see the big panoramic view from his office. From the Golden Gate Bridge to the Ferry Building, it was stunning even on a foggy day like that day. All I could see of the bridge were the two towers sticking up through a thick fog bank that had settled over the ocean and the bay.
"Hi Nick." Jefferey was reserved, just as he had been in the few phone calls we'd had since he'd fired Robert and I'd walked out of his office.
"Jeffery." That was the best I could do.
"So, you got your man."
I nodded. I hadn't told him any of the real story. He just knew that we had lured Montgomery to town and had then turned him over to the police. The story in the papers had been that he had confessed. I knew that, if it went to trial, things could get messy. But, I figured Montgomery would want to take a deal. Better than a trial, which would open up his secret life to everyone. Runson had even joked that he thought Montgomery was looking forward to prison. It would be like one long game to him.
"How's business?"
Jeffery looked around the office. It was jammed with papers and files in every nook and cranny. "Busy. Lots of new clients. All the boys coming home from Korea, you know."
I nodded. "Ruth looks like she's working out well."
He smiled briefly. "I think so. She can be a little rough around the edges."
"Any calls from Eddie Mannix lately?" He was the infamous fixer who worked for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. He was my least favorite person and the feeling was mutual.
Jeffery said, "Nope. They paid their last invoice and I don't think I'll be seeing any business from them for a while. You really pissed him off, Nick."
I shrugged. "I did more for him than he's willing to admit. I don't care."
Jeffery sat up straight in his chair. "Well, I do care. I don't have millions of dollars just sitting there growing and growing like you do. I can't run around the country with all my business on the front page of the Examiner, like you can. They try to trash you, it rolls right off. Not for me. I have to keep my head down."
I watched him closely. I knew this was the end. I was there, in fact, to close out my business with Jeffery. I didn't think I was going to get over the way he treated Robert. I could handle what he threw my way. He didn't owe me anything. But Robert. That was different.
"Well, I'm gonna make it easy for you and move my business somewhere else. Like you say, you have to keep your head down. You can't afford to be associated with the world's wealthiest queer."
Jeffery stood up with a sigh, turned, and looked out the big window. "I figured this would happen."
I said, "I know life has been hell for you this past month. It's been like that for me and Carter, too. But I can't abide what you're doing. You're turning your back on your own people."
Jeffery turned and looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Jews?"
"No. Queers. We're a tribe, too. We're not related. We don't have a big religion or traditions that get passed down more than a generation or so at a time. But we're still all the same. That Tenderloin and Polk Street crowd needs you, Jeffery. Get mad at me, but don't turn your back on them."
Jeffery looked back out the window. I noticed his coat was tight on him. He'd put on a few pounds since I'd last seen him. "You're not making this easy for me, Nick."
"That's not true. I'm gonna make it real easy for you. I'm gonna get up in a minute and I'm gonna leave this office and I'm gonna be gone. For good." I sat, though. I wasn't ready to leave. Not yet.
He turned and looked at me. "I have a date on Saturday."
"What about what's his name with the gallery on Maiden Lane?"
"I'm not doing that anymore. I have to look out for the future. I have to set my priorities."
I knew it. "What's her name?"
"Goldie. Nice gal from the avenues. We go to the same temple."
"Since when do you go to temple?"
"Since Mexico."
I sighed deeply and stood up. There wasn't anything else to say. I took one long look at my friend and the man I'd once shared a bed and a life with. He watched me. Neither of us spoke.
I looked out the
window one last time. The fog was getting thicker. It felt ominous, like a warning of trouble to come.
I quietly turned and walked out of Jeffery's office, down the long hallway with the plush carpet, past Ruth and her reception desk, out through the doors, and down the hall to the elevator. I sighed as I pressed the down button and looked at my reflection in the shiny brass doors.
I put on my hat, pulled down the brim, and waited.
Author's Note
Thank you for buying and reading this book!
I hope you enjoyed this third book set in the world of Nick Williams and Carter Jones.
When I first wrote this book, I didn't completely understand what it would develop into. As of this writing, I've completed sixteen additional books and feel like I've only barely scraped the surface of what is possible.
The proposition of this ongoing story is simple: what happens when someone is outed (long before that term was invented) and doesn't back down? We've now seen what happens as Nick and Carter become increasingly notorious and find themselves in the middle of the political world, both in the public light as well as the murkier places kept hidden from the light of day. If you'd like to discover more about what might happen as the summer of 1953 comes to its dramatic conclusion (before leading us to a most unusual Halloween party), The Laconic Lumberjack is next in line...
And, now that you've gotten to know Nick and Carter, you might want to take a trip back to 1947 when they first met across a crowded room in An Enchanted Beginning.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Bill Brinks for chatting with me online about air travel in the 1950's. It was extremely helpful.
Thank you to Sydney Allen for lifting my spirits one windy Sunday afternoon by telling me all the things she liked and disliked about what happened to Nick & Carter in The Amorous Attorney. That was fabulous!
Finally, many thanks to David Tangredi, author, blogger, and builder extraordinaire, who helped me when I was going a little crazy from writing fiction about fictional people I really like.
Historical Notes
The events in this book take place between Friday, May 29, 1953, and Friday, June 12, 1953.
The Sartorial Senator (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 3) Page 21
