“How?”
“I remember one night,” Jennifer explained, “when my mother confronted Lila with old newspaper clippings. The clippings old reports about the murder. Lila was sitting at a piano, the same piano in her mansion, playing music. My mother was very drunk.”
“Who bought the old lady a piano?” Flint asked.
“You know who.”
“Patrick Wilson?”
Jennifer nodded. “He loved Lila, but she hated him and she played him for the fool that he is. She led Patrick Wilson to believe that she had forgiven him and was falling in love with him. He would come to New York for visits.”
“Twenty years worth of visits?”
“No. Only the last four years Lila lived in New York. She waited… like a black widow, she waited. Patrick Wilson was a fool for loving her. Lila was his weakness.”
“Get back to your mother.”
“Lila was playing the piano when my mother confronted her. My mother was drunk. Lila tried to explain that Patrick Wilson was alive and that it had been Richard, his brother, she had killed by mistake. My mother didn't believe her. She pulled out a gun from her purse and threatened to kill Lila. Lila had a glass of brandy sitting on the piano bench next to her. She snatched the glass and threw it at my mother. My mother stumbled backward, tripped over a coffee table, and fell down. That's when the gun went off. My mother... shot herself in the chest by accident... and she died.” Jennifer began to cry.
“I'm sorry.”
“Lila blamed Patrick Wilson for her death. Detective, I don't know what Lila was planning to do to Patrick Wilson, but after my mother's death, she moved back here to Los Angeles and returned to the mansion. The mansion was run down. She completed remodeled the inside to make it look like my mother's country home in Connecticut.”
Flint thought about Jennifer's confession. “She began to lose her marbles, then?”
Jennifer shrugged her shoulders. “I was very young when my mother was killed. I was present the night my mother confronted Lila. The death was ruled accidental and I was placed in Lila's care. It wasn't long before she went me off to a boarding school in Europe.”
“But you were bitter, weren't you?”
“Yes,” Jennifer confessed. “I wanted Lila dead. I began writing letters to Patrick Wilson.”
“What information did Lila have on Patrick?”
“I don't know,” Jennifer said. “Detective, I was away at the boarding school for many years. When I was old enough, I returned to Los Angeles without Lila's consent. She believed I had married a man in Europe was living in Italy.”
“Lila wanted Patrick to suffer,” Flint said, more to himself than to Lila. “She wanted to make him suffer the way she was suffering. She wanted to make his life miserable.”
“It's possible.”
Flint shook his head. “I lied to you. Lila Crastdale wasn't in good health. In all truth, she was dying of cancer. It's my guess she was preparing to take Patrick Wilson down after making him suffer all of those years.”
“Cancer?”
Flint nodded his head. “Yeah, cancer. Now listen to me, who killed Lila Crastdale?”
“No,” Jennifer said. “Even if I do to prison... at least I'll still be alive. I can't tell you anything more than what I have. I've said enough already.”
“Patrick Wilson killed her, didn't he?”
Jennifer shook her head. “Patrick Wilson tried to keep Lila alive. Detective, you have to believe me, he loved Lila. She was his weakness. He would never hurt her.”
“But someone did,” Flint said, and drew in a deep breath. “Who told you to drug the old lady? Was it Patrick Wilson?”
“No... it...”
“Who?” Flint yelled.
Jennifer jumped. “It was the Mayor, okay? Mayor Duffy ordered me to drug her.”
Flint squeezed his hands into two tight fists. He was being played by a slimy politician. “Stay in town. I'll be in touch. If you run, I'll find you. If you stay, I'll help you.”
“Will I go to prison?”
“Tell me something. Why did you pretend to be Lila Crastdale's niece? It's obvious the old lady knew who you were.”
“Sure, when I showed up Lila knew who I was. We reconciled and I pretended to love her. She even bought me this house. But I had other plans.”
“I bet you did.”
Jennifer studied Flint's face. “I saw my mother die, Detective,” she said. “In Europe, I faked my own death. I had some very powerful people arrange the system for me. I was planning to come back to Los Angeles to kill Lila and inherit her fortune. But Patrick stepped in and said if I hurt her, he would make sure I went to prison. You see, I told you he loved her.”
“Stick around,” Flint ordered Jennifer, and walked away.
“If I run you'll never find me,” Jennifer yelled at Flint.
“If you run,” Flint yelled back over his shoulder, “I'll print your face on every news media all over the world. INTERPOL will track you down for me. Run if you want, but it won't do you any good.”
Jennifer watched Flint walk away. Scared, nervous and uncertain what to do, she ran inside and called Patrick Wilson. She confessed everything. “Oh, Grandad,” she cried, standing in a living room decorated all in white, “I know I made a mistake talking to the detective, but he pressured me.”
“Come to the studio,” Patrick said in an upset voice. “We'll figure out what to do about the detective.”
*****
Flint drove to city hall. He had a bone to pick with the mayor. Forty minutes later, after waiting for the mayor to return from a meeting, he walked into an office designed to reflect a politician. The office made Flint sick to his stomach.
Mayor Duffy watched Flint carefully as he sat down behind an impressive desk that cost taxpayers thousands of dollars. “Detective?”
Flint, even though angry on the inside, showed absolute control and calmness on the outside. Walking to the desk he reached down, opened a crystal candy glass, and took out a piece of butterscotch. “I thought you might like an update.”
“Please,” Mayor Duffy said in an urgent voice. Pressing a button on the phone sitting on his desk, he told his secretary to hold his calls. “What have you come up with so far?”
Flint sat down on the edge of the desk and folded his arms. Refusing to look at Mayor Duffy, he pretended to be deep in thought. “I think Richard Wilson killed Lila Crastdale.” He had almost said Patrick, and it certainly was an effort trying to remember who was who. Deception made everything complicated.
Mayor Duffy nodded his head as he listened to Flint. “What proof do you have so far?”
“Not so fast,” Flint said, preparing to set a trap. “First we need to make sure that what I'm about to say doesn't reach Chief Cunningham's ears. Chief Cunningham… he's… soft.”
“I know,” Mayor Duffy agreed. “I don't like the man, either. He was hired against my wishes. If you handle this case well, I'll see to it that you have his job.”
“I've already told you, doing my job is reward enough,” Flint growled. “Let's just agree to leave Chief Cunningham out of this, okay? I don't need any hot water on my feet, you know?”
“I understand,” Mayor Duffy agreed. Leaning forward in an expensive gray cushioned chair, he focused intently to Flint. “Speak to me, Detective. We don't have much time.”
“Well,” Flint said, standing up, “I went back to the mansion earlier. Now, I don't know if my timing was right or the person I grabbed there was really stupid, but I tangled with an intruder who confessed to quite a bit.”
Mayor Duffy stiffened in his seat. “An intruder?”
“A man who swears that someone sent him to get a confession out of Lila Crastdale. He refused to name names at this point, but I think it's Richard Wilson.”
“And where is this man?” Mayor Duffy asked quickly.
Flint shook his head. “No way,” he said, “this low life is in hiding right now. If Richard Wilson gets word of this
, he'll most likely attempt a hit. I have to use this man as bait. That's where you come in.”
“Me?” Mayor Duffy asked.
“Tell Richard Wilson I'm off the case,” Flint said, “and then feed him information about the man I grabbed at the manor.”
“I don't understand.”
“You will,” Flint promised. “In the meantime, I'll watch Richard Wilson, see what he does. I need to see his reaction.”
“Detective, it's imperative that this man you arrested be turned over to my office at once,” Mayor Duffy insisted. “I must insist. This man can prove that Richard Wilson murdered Lila Crastdale. If this is the case, then I can use him to dispose of my enemies once and for all.”
“You mean blackmail Richard Wilson,” Flint said, strolling over to a polished bookshelf and examining the books. “No deal, Mayor. This guy stays hidden for now. I'm after a killer. I don't play political patty-cake, I told you already.”
Realizing that he had made a horrible mistake with Flint, Mayor Duffy backtracked. “Of course,” he said. “I will do as you ask.”
Flint turned away from the bookshelf. “I also went and talked with Jennifer Reed,” he said.
Mayor Duffy tensed in his seat again. “I see.”
“She's a tight-lipped woman, let me tell you that much,” Flint lied. “I've broken the best of them, but this woman sure gave me a run for my money. She backed me into a corner with every question I threw at her, not that I had that much to go on anyway. Is there anything you can tell me about Lila Crastdale's niece?”
Mayor Duffy raised his right hand to his cheek, pretended to consider Flint's question, and then shook his head. “I'm afraid I don't know anything about the woman.”
“I have a feeling she wanted Lila Crastdale dead,” Flint said, returning to the desk. “She stands to inherit a great deal of money.”
“Does she?”
“Tell me something,” Flint said, drawing in a deep breath of air. He smelled the Mayor's cologne, the same cologne that he smelled on Jennifer Reed's dress. “What does a person do with that much money?”
“I'm sure I don't know.”
“Yeah,” Flint pretended to agree. “Well, anyway, this is where I'm at right now. My focus will be entirely on Richard Wilson from this point forward. I think I can snag him if I'm careful. Sure, will set the movie world on fire, huh?”
“I'm sure it will,” the Mayor agreed.
Flint nodded his head. “You asked me to find the killer, and I think I have.”
“I...” Mayor Duffy began, then reconsidered. “Good work, Detective. Please keep me updated.”
Flint thanked the Mayor for his time and then raced off to see Cody. It seemed that Cody wasn't being as truthful as Flint believed. Driving back into the neighborhood, he parked in front of Cody's house just in time to see Cody trying to back out of the driveway. Flint snatched out his gun, jumped out of his car, and ran up to the truck. “Going somewhere before dark?”
Cody looked straight at Flint's gun. “To the store…”
“Then why do you have a suitcase in the back of your truck? Get out.”
Cody turned off the truck and opened the driver's side door. “Look, I have to split town.”
“You're playing both sides,” Flint told Cody, motioning him to his car. “Get in, we're going for a ride.”
“Oh man,” Cody said, but did as Flint told him. A half hour later he was sitting on a wooden bench outside of a run-down burger joint facing the ocean. Nibbling on a greasy burger he watched Flint put away a milkshake and a pack of salty fries. “You gonna talk to me or what?”
Flint looked across the parking lot at the ocean. The waves were peaceful, calm and relaxed. A group of teenagers was playing volleyball down on the beach, laughing and cutting up. Hungering to be out on the ocean fishing, he finished off his strawberry milkshake as a cool ocean breeze touched his tired face. “You were at Lila's Crastdale's mansion a lot earlier than you admitted. As a matter of fact, you went to Lila's Crastdale when Jennifer Reed was there. Your job was to get a confession out of her.”
Cody's face froze. Dropping the cheeseburger in his hand down onto the table, he began to shake his head as quickly as he could. “Hey man, I did just as Ms. Fancy Pants told me and--”
“Come on Cody, when are you ever going to stop with the lies?” Flint asked, turning his attention to the salty fries. “I know Mayor Duffy sent you to get a confession out of Lila Crastdale. He told me.”
“Oh man,” Cody moaned miserably. Looking out at the ocean he tried to think. “Listen, I have a record. What could I do? I was threatened with prison again, you know.”
“Mayor Duffy threatened you?”
“Yeah,” Cody said. Grabbing his cheeseburger he began to gobble it down. The cheeseburger, he thought chewing vigorously, might be the last taste of freedom he might have for a long time. “Ms. Fancy pants, it was her idea,” he said, through a mouthful of burger.
“Go on,” Flint said, chewing his fries. Nothing better than a milkshake with salty fries, he thought, looking back out at the ocean. Maybe someday he would retire, open his own burger joint overlooking the ocean, and live out his life drinking milkshakes and eating salty fries? And maybe some day he would start being nice to people, too.
“All I had to do was stick the old woman with this serum, you know. Ms. Fancy pants would do the rest,” Cody said. “But when I got to the mansion, no one was around. Lila was out cold in her bedroom, so I left. That's when Ms. Fancy Pants called me and told me there had been a change in plans. You know, come to work early, you know, check on the plants.”
“Come on Cody, stop lying to me!” Flint snapped.
“I'm not lying.” Cody swallowed his cheeseburger. “Okay, well, Ms. Fancy Pants did call me and told me to come to the mansion early. She told me why...”
“To find the body?”
Cody nodded and then turned to his fries. “It's all messed up,” he said, gobbling down the fries. “Something went wrong. I don't know what, I swear I don't, and I don't think the woman was supposed to be killed. Something bad went down.”
“Okay, here's the deal,” Flint said. “The Mayor knows I have you. Most likely he's going to send someone to check your place. If they find you, you're a dead man.”
“This is foul,” Cody said, eating the last of his fries.
“Your best chance to stay alive is to do what I say,” Flint said. “Cody, I want to help you, I really do. I can see that you're not a bad person. You just need to man up.”
“Man up?” Cody laughed to himself. “I tried to man up by being honest, and then a crooked Mayor threatened to send me back to prison if I didn't do his dirty work. Now I'm a dead man.”
“No, you're not,” Flint promised. “Come on, I'm taking you to a friend. He'll help you. When the time comes, I'll send for you. Now, you can try and run, but I'll find you, and when I do, it's back to prison. But if you do what I say, I'll make sure you stay out of prison.”
“How?” Cody asked in a disbelieving voice. “Man, I'm a goner. I'll be dead before the sun sets.”
Flint motioned at the front street. “So run, Cody,” he said. “Run away, and keep running. But all of your life you'll be looking over your shoulder, wondering. There comes a time in a man's life when he has to stand up to the criminals. I can help you, but you're going to have to trust me. The choice is yours. I'm not scared of a crooked politician and I'm not scared of the studios either. I would rather die as a man than live as a coward.”
Cody stared into Flint's face. Tears began to pour from his eyes. “I did my time,” he pleaded with Flint. “I did my time. I went straight. I got an honest job and worked hard for that stupid woman. I mean, I worked hard for my employer. I didn't steal, I arrived to work on time every day, but where did it get me, huh? At least if I was back in my gang they would hide me, but my own gang won't even look twice at me.”
Flint stood up, walked to Cody, sat down, and put his arm around the scared
young man. “Let me help you, Cody. Let me be your friend, okay? I'll handle the criminals. All I need you to do is testify in court when the time comes.”
“I'll never make it.”
“Yes you will,” Flint promised. “I have a friend, Dr. Miles, who is about to take a vacation. I want you to go with him, and come back, too. Can I trust you, Cody? Can I trust that you will come back?”
Cody looked deep into Flint's eyes. He sat silent for a few minutes and then nodded his head. “I did my time. It's not fair what they did to me, is it?”
“No,” Flint agreed. “Come on, let's get you to Dr. Miles’ place.”
Cody grabbed Flint's arm. “If I die, then... There's something I want you to know, I mean, since we're being honest and all.”
“What?” Flint asked.
“Ms. Fancy Pants and the Mayor are a couple, you know. But Ms. Fancy Pants, she's just playing him. She's up to something. She's a black widow.”
“I think I stepped on that spider,” Flint said, and tipped a wink at Cody.
“No, you don't get it,” Cody said in a desperate voice. “She's a dangerous woman.”
“We'll see. Come on.”
Cody drained his milkshake and followed Flint back to his car. As he walked up to the passenger's side door, a black SUV appeared on the front road. Flint watched the SUV slow down as the passenger's side window rolled down.
“Get down!” he yelled at Cody.
Cody dove to the ground just as an automatic machine began firing at him. The bullets tore into Flint's car like a hot knife eating through warm butter. The air around them erupted with screams.
Flint snatched out his gun, knelt up on one knee, threw his arms over the back of his car, and began firing at the SUV, managing to shoot out the back window. The SUV sped off. Flint jumped to his feet and ran around the side of the car. Cody was gone.
The only thing Flint found was three tires that had been shot out. He holstered his gun and ran up to the burger stand, demanding to use the phone. “Yeah, Chief, this is Flint,” Flint said and explained about the shooting. “No one seems to be hurt. No, the SUV didn't have a tag on it... Yeah... I'll see you when you get down here.”
Detective Flint Box Set: A Detective Story Box Set Books 1-3 Page 9
