by Polly Iyer
“Damn. Three days. Where’s Norm?”
“He and his partner are interviewing everyone who might have seen you. I’ve got a call in to him now.”
“My mind’s a blank, like it’s been wiped clean.”
“It probably has,” Abby said. “Carlotta Gentry confirmed your meeting. Do you remember coming back to the hotel?”
“No. Jeez, I’ve got a bump on my head the size of a golf ball, and I don’t remember that either.”
“I assume you got whacked by Collyer,” Jeff said. “So much for not being at a disadvantage.”
“What? I didn’t get that.”
Jeff repeated.
“Yeah, I said that, didn’t I? Guess I figured that wrong.”
“You were drugged. You’ve got a needle mark in the vein of your right hand.”
Luke squinted at his hand. “Now I remember. I woke up dizzy as hell, strapped to a gurney or cot in an operating room. Then I passed out again.”
“Or you were drugged.”
“Someone changed the drip bag hanging over me. That’s all I remember.”
“Did you see who?”
“No, I tried, but he stood behind me. He wore gloves. Green surgical gloves. I remember thinking, I’m a goner.”
Abby stroked his head. “We can only guess what they would have done.”
“You’re a lucky man, my friend. If it weren’t for Abby, you wouldn’t be here. You should have seen her. She nailed that bitch at her own game. Got her by the short hairs and yanked on them good.”
He sat up. “What did you do to get me back?”
“We visited Mrs. Gentry with a recording of Stewart telling me he overheard her and Collyer talking about killing his father. That’s why they wanted Stewart out of the way.”
“You what? Did I read you right? You walked in there threatening her, with Collyer probably standing nearby?”
“I went with her,” Jeff said. “Archer knew where we were going.”
“Do you realize how foolish that was?”
“Not as foolish as you prancing into Carlotta Gentry’s lair like a lamb in the middle of a wolf pack. If I’d known you were going without Norm, I’d have chained you to the bed,” Abby said.
“If you’d have done that, I would’ve gladly stayed home.” Luke sandwiched her face and kissed her.
Abby laughed. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was worried sick.”
“Ahem,” Jeff said. “I’m going down to the desk and see who brought you in. Besides, I’m beginning to feel like a fifth wheel. Be right back.”
“Take your time, buddy.”
Abby filled Luke in about her trip to Dayton. “Stewart was lucid—as lucid as he gets. I’m sure he knows more. He said he told me about his father’s plane crash, but I don’t remember. Now that they know he’s remembering things, he’s in serious danger.”
“Stewart knows more than the murder. If that’s all they had against him, they’d have killed him eight years ago. Dead, he’d never expose them. There has to be something else, the same something they killed Matt for. Something tangible. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Abby rubbed her temples. “Could I know and not know I know?”
“That’s more your field than mine. Right now, I’m having a hard enough time figuring out what I know.”
“Either way, I’m erasing the tape after Norm hears it. I made a deal. The tape in exchange for you.”
“Then you have nothing.”
“She’d slough it off as the rant of a murdering psycho anyway. We know it’s true, and so does she, but as a cop you know it wouldn’t hold up. Ask Norm. We need more than that to stop this woman. Call it a draw. I got what I wanted—you.” She moved closer to him. “How do you feel?”
“Shaky, a little sick to my stomach. What I can’t figure out is why they drugged me.”
“Jeff thinks they filled you full of a truth drug to find out if Stewart told us anything, but you were probably too dizzy to read their lips. Come on. You’ll feel better after a bath. I’ll help you.”
“That’s the blind leading the blind. I’ll take it, but only if you take it with me.”
“You can’t feel that bad.”
* * * * *
By the time they came out of the bathroom, Jeff was filling Norm in on their visit to Carlotta Gentry’s estate.
“You look mucho better, my man,” Jeff said. “Almost normal. You’ve even got color back into your cheeks.”
Luke still felt dizzy, but the bath helped. So did Abby’s seeing hands as they revitalized his body. The thought prompted a twitch inside his boxers. “I missed half of that, but I do feel better. Thanks, everyone, for saving my ass.”
“Thank Abby,” Jeff said. “I thought she was nuts, but doctor knows best.”
Luke thought of the bath they shared and pulled her close. “I think I’ve already thanked her.” He smiled when Abby’s face flushed.
“The concierge said a limo pulled up in front of the hotel and a chauffeur brought you inside. Said he found you downtown, drunk on a park bench. The concierge brought you to your room in a wheelchair. He said you were drunk, too. Smelled it on you.”
“Now word will get out that Luke has a drinking problem,” Norm said.
“That’s a bunch of crap.” But plausible, he thought, remembering a few fuzzy weekends after his accident. “You can dig into anyone’s closet and find a skeleton. Drinking isn’t one of mine.”
“So what now?” Abby said.
“There’s another development,” Norm said. “I think it’s all connected. I did some poking into Martin Gentry’s death. The day his plane went down, a couple of kids found a man by the name of Sam Davidson washed up on Folly Beach. Not a mark on him. He’d been Martin Gentry’s accountant. I pulled up the newspaper article. His wife said he got a call the night before. He left and never returned. Official cause of death was suicide by drowning. Mrs. Davidson insisted he was neither depressed nor suicidal. Matt must have connected the dots and found something big. Big enough to get him killed.”
“Did anyone speak to his wife?” Abby asked.
“I did,” Norm said. “Had a hell of a time tracking her down. She remarried and didn’t want to be drawn into any mess concerning her first husband’s death. She said she knew nothing about his work with Martin Gentry.”
“Did she have any contact with Matt?” Jeff asked.
“Not that she’ll admit to.”
“What does that mean?” Abby asked.
“It means if she gave Matt access to old files, she isn’t talking.”
“What do you think?” Luke asked.
“She reported a break-in after her husband died, but said the thieves didn’t take anything. She knows more than she’s saying. Must have figured whatever she gave Matt got him killed, and she didn’t want to be next.”
“You’re right, Luke,” Abby said. “Something incriminating is on paper.”
“I knew Matt well,” Norm said. “If he uncovered an important piece of evidence, he made copies and put them in a safe place. That’s the way he was. Covered his ass all the way ’round the block. Maybe he sent it to you, Luke.”
“We checked both houses before we left,” Jeff said. “Nothing.”
“Well, if he had anything with him, whoever took him out took it. His computer’s gone, which means they know about your email correspondence, Luke.”
“Which means that if Abby hadn’t made that tape and blackmailed Mrs. Gentry into letting me go, I’d be dead. They didn’t know how hard it was for me to read lips when I couldn’t see straight.”
“Wouldn’t Matt code-protect the contents of his computer?” Abby asked.
“A good hacker can get into any system with a little time,” Norm said.
Luke rubbed his head, felt the knot. “The answer has to be in Matt’s apartment.”
“We searched and found nothing,” Norm said. “His sister opened his safe deposit box and let us see the contents. Nothi
ng but personal papers. That’s probably where he was going when someone ran him off the road.”
“Matt talked about a land deal on one of Georgia’s islands. Do you think you could dig up anything on that after all these years?”
“Maybe, if I’m careful. Martin Gentry is old news. I have no authority to open a cold case that never was a case.”
“Can you get me into Matt’s apartment?” Luke asked. “I’d like to take a look around.”
“I’ll see if I can arrange it.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
No Turn Unstoned
“I described you as a crime scene specialist and got permission for you to search Matt’s apartment. I mean, that’s not lying, is it?”
“Specialist might be a stretch, but it’s what I’m doing now, so it’s not a lie.”
“Our people have gone over this place like a prospector sifting for gold. If there’s a hidden safe or compartment, we haven’t found it. Whoever tossed the place did a neat job. No prints, no hairs, no nada. If it weren’t for the missing computer, we wouldn’t know anyone’s been here.”
“Whatever Matt found has to be here,” Luke said. “Maybe Mrs. Gentry thought I knew something.”
“Maybe. Go to it. I’ll be back later.”
Luke knocked on every wall and panel while an officer listened for anything that sounded hollow. He inspected every floorboard and carpet edge, checked every inch of the patio for signs of freshly dug dirt or loose bricks, unscrewed every vent and ceiling light, and scrutinized every appliance. Nothing.
The systematic dissection reminded him of Gene Hackman tearing apart an apartment piece by –piece, hunting for a secret listening device in Coppola’s The Conversation. Luke hadn’t descended to that level, but he could envision it happening.
Matt hid papers implicating Carlotta Gentry in something so disreputable that she sacrificed her own son and racked up five bodies to protect herself: Mr. Gentry, the pilot, Sam Davidson, Macy, and Matt. He wanted to nail her before she added another name to the list.
Norm returned and touched Luke’s shoulder to get his attention. “Time to call it a day.”
“The evidence is here. I know it.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but we’ve got to go. Sorry.”
Luke inspected the apartment one more time. Shaking his head, he followed Norm out the door.
It’s here. I know it is.
* * * * *
That night, Luke, Abby, Norm, and Jeff gathered at Hyman’s for a last get-together to discuss their options. “So, what have we got?” Luke asked, shifting his focus from one to the other to see who spoke first.
Norm leaned back, patting a stomach full of crab cakes and beer. “Hypothetical: Matt found papers that incriminated Carlotta Gentry in some crime, for lack of a better word. If there are copies, we can’t find them. We know someone searched the house because the computer’s gone.
“Speculative: Stewart Gentry, a documented schizophrenic, said he heard his mother and Graeme Collyer discuss killing his father right after his plane crashed on the Georgia coast.
“Conjecture: At about the same time, Sam Davidson, Martin Gentry’s attorney, turns up dead on Folly Beach. No proof the two deaths are related.
“Inconclusive: Stewart Gentry is the research guinea pig of Dr. Herbert Scanlon, a renowned physician.
“Unanswerable: Is Stewart Gentry still alive because he possesses knowledge of something the bad guys want? And if they ever get him to open up, is he dead meat?”
Luke caught enough to understand Norm’s take on the matter.
“Well, since you put it that way,” Jeff said
“Exactly. Bottom line: we have no proof of anything. We can’t even prove Matt was murdered.”
“What about his accident?” Abby said. “You said someone ran him off the road.”
“Matt was driving too fast. That’s been established. He could have lost control or been the victim of a hit and run. Prove it was intentional and prove Collyer or one of his men did it. Do you know how many hit and runs there are in this country? Shit happens and drivers take off. Then prove Matt had incriminating evidence with him.” As Norm scanned the faces of his four companions, he said, “Another beer, anyone?”
Luke saw people talking at other tables, waiters running around, and all he heard was silence.
“Give me hard evidence,” Norm continued. “Then I’ll start an official investigation. Hell, I can’t even prove Scanlon held Luke, or that Mrs. Gentry was involved. Luke’s memory has been erased. We got nothing, folks. Nothing but theories, and my boss told me he didn’t want to hear any more of them. He doesn’t want me wasting time proving his buddy Carlotta Gentry is dirty.” Norm took a long drink of his beer, slammed his glass onto the table, and wiped his mouth.
Luke saw his frustration. “I know we’re right.”
“I know we are, too, but I need something concrete. In my hand. Black and white.”
“I still say Stewart’s the key,” Abby said. “There’s more here than an overheard conversation. Luke’s right. Somewhere in Stewart’s messed up mind, he has knowledge that could put his mother away for a very long time. Collyer, too. We have to be careful with him.”
“I think you’re generous to a fault where your ex-husband is concerned,” Norm said. “If I were you, I’d want him dead.”
“I’ve come to terms. Keeping hate in your heart makes the hurt last longer.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Heart of the Matter
After returning to Hub City, Abby received a call from Don Weston asking if she could make time to see him. She knew what he wanted but had hoped he’d let it ride a little longer. They agreed to meet at her office. She braced herself for the worst when he arrived.
“Abby, I have to inform the police about Stewart. You’re asking too much to keep him secret any longer. It’s against everything I stand for. I’ve already compromised my position.”
“You know what they’ll do to him, don’t you?”
“You haven’t any proof.”
“He’s so much better now than when you put him in Dayton, Don. You know that.”
“Yes, but he’d been free for weeks. Did he take medication regularly? Were the pills you found the ones he’d been treated with? We don’t know, and it’s anyone’s guess. I have to turn him over. I’m sorry.”
Abby heard the resolve in his voice. “Give me a little more time. Two days more, that’s all I ask. Then you can claim you didn’t know who he was or that he was a wanted man. I’ll verify it.”
“His picture’s all over the news. Even though I admitted him under a different name, the staff at the hospital has to be wise. Someone will talk, and we’ll both lose our licenses for harboring him.”
“When the truth comes out, we’ll be vindicated. It’s imperative we keep him away from Scanlon. Two days, please.”
Weston sighed and Abby held her breath.
“Two days, Abby.”
“Thank you. Another favor.”
“Don’t push it. I’m feeling the noose tighten around my neck now.”
“Please,” Abby begged. “Do you think Stewart would respond to hypnotherapy?”
After a long pause, Weston said, “I don’t know. That’s not my field of expertise.”
“Do you know an expert?”
“Yes, but I can’t promise it’ll work on Stewart.”
“Would it hurt to try?”
“If it’s traumatic, it might. If what you say is true, then someone has gone to a lot of trouble to either suppress information or get it out of him. Probably the latter.”
“He’s already remembered part, but there’s more; I’m sure of it.” Abby felt that since Don had stuck his neck out, he should know as much as she did. “There’s something I should mention. Stewart told me that before he got sick he heard his mother and another man admit to rigging the plane that killed his father. He thinks he told me and then said we were going to the police. I think Doct
or Scanlon might have used some form of mind control on me to make me forget the conversation.”
“And you want to see if you remember under hypnosis.”
“Yes.”
“You went through a traumatic experience. There’s a chance you won’t remember anything, even under hypnosis.”
“I’d still like to try.”
“Anyone I involve will have to be told beforehand of the situation and the risks. I’m already involved, and if it were anyone but you, I wouldn’t be.”
“I know that.”
“I know two people, neither in the area.”
“I’ll pay expenses and any rates. This is important or I wouldn’t ask.”
“I’ll let you know.”
* * * * *
Later that day, Don called. “The doctor’s name is Carl Schell. He’s from Minneapolis and one of the foremost psychiatrists specializing in hypnotherapy. I have someone picking him up tomorrow at the airport around noon.
“I explained Stewart’s condition. He said he would tread carefully. Hypnotherapy can be dangerous when administered to someone suffering from psychosis, but considering lives may depend on the information Stewart is suppressing, he agreed to try. Any resistance and he’ll stop.”
“Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”
“Carl is good. If he thinks he’s in dangerous waters, he’ll know what to do. He’ll expect to be reimbursed for his plane fare but said he’d hypnotize both you and Stewart as a professional courtesy. The background information piqued his curiosity.” Don released a small chuckle. “In other words, he sees a paper in this.”
Psychiatrists see a paper in everything, but she didn’t want to say that to Don. “Did you mention Scanlon?”
“I did. He knows him but refrained from saying anything derogatory. Carl’s European and very reserved. I’d have been surprised if he uttered a critical word.”
* * * * *
Luke noticed Abby’s distraction during the evening and tried to make light conversation. She silently prepared dinner and never turned in his direction until she put the plates on the table. When she did, she tipped over a glass of wine. The stem shattered. Daisy jumped up when Abby said something Luke couldn’t make out. He rushed over.
