Chloe Boston 15 - Murder by the Book

by Jackson, Melanie

  We only had two minutes until midnight.

  “Look, Officer,” I said. “I have medication that a woman inside that party needs to take before midnight. Now, are you going to let this woman die or let me in now?”

  The Chief cast me a glance of admiration.

  “Let’s see this medication,” the officer countered.

  I rifled my purse and came up with a small bottle of aspirin.

  “That’s aspirin.”

  “No, that’s a critical heart medication that I carry in an aspirin container.”

  “Look, Officer, do we really need to go through all this rigmarole?” the Chief chimed in.

  “Back down, Chief. I’m not talking with you yet,” the officer replied.

  “I beg your pardon. What’s your name, Officer?”

  “Reese,” the officer said in annoyance. “Now, why don’t you settle down and wait your turn, Chief.”

  It was then I noticed the Chief had redirected the officer’s complete attention toward himself, giving me a slim chance to enter the party unnoticed. The Chief gave me the eye, which was his indication that I should go for it. So, I went for it. Rushing past Reese, I grabbed for the door handle and had the door open before the officer could react. Still, he probably would have caught me if the Chief hadn’t wrapped his arms around Reese from behind. I left Reese and the Chief to duke it out while I rushed into the heart of the party.

  It was obvious I didn’t belong. All around me were men and women in elegant clothes wearing gay party masks. I was dressed in jeans, a simple blouse, a pair of flats, and a fanny pack. There wasn’t another fanny pack amongst any of the women in the room. I suppose it should have been no surprise when I got stares from the party attendees. I tried to ignore their attention and search for Agatha. I didn’t find Agatha, but I did find Stillwell pushing anxiously through the crowd.

  “Boston, what are you doing here?” Stillwell said when he recognized me.

  He had to raise his voice to be heard above the voices and sounds of the party.

  “Agatha?” I replied. “Where is she?”

  “She was with me just a moment ago. We were surrounded by these parading clowns. We became momentarily separated. When the clowns were gone so was she. Now I can’t find her. The funny thing is that I can’t find my partner either.”

  “You mean she’s been kidnapped?”

  “But not the way she was supposed to be kidnapped. Not the way in the book. What happened to the magic show? Where was the evil illusionist?”

  “So, our murderer cheats. Are you so surprised?”

  Stillwell looked embarrassed at having been so easily duped.

  “I need to keep looking for her and my partner,” he said.

  “I need to find her now.”

  We parted and headed through the crowd in different directions. I saw no one I recognized amongst the milling revelers. I came up for air near the elevators where the crowd cleared and I could see my way around. Unfortunately, my surfacing also afforded Officer Reese a better look at me. Our eyes met. He was all the way across the room but came running. I didn’t know what to do.

  “Chloe Boston,” I heard someone call from behind me.

  I turned. I was facing a well-coiffed Eddie Springer in a business suit and a tie. His hair was short and slicked back from his face with oil. He wore a small mustache which I hadn’t remembered him having.

  “Eddie? I thought you were in the hospital,” I declared. “What’s going on here?”

  “If you want to see Mrs. Agatha Jackman alive, you’ll come with me, now.”

  Eddie extended a hand to me.

  I looked back to see that Officer Reese was halfway across the grand hall. I felt that I had no choice. I took Eddie’s hand and allowed him to guide me down a restricted access corridor and around a corner. There a freight elevator was waiting for us. We climbed onboard and Eddie closed the doors. He entered a key into the control panel and selected the roof as our destination. I almost felt my knees give way at the thought of returning to the roof.

  When we arrived on the roof, I could see that a helicopter was waiting for us with its rotor turning. I also found Agatha standing between two burly men on the rooftop and looking scared.

  “Oh, Chloe, I’m so glad to see you,” Agatha cried as I approached.

  When we were close enough, Agatha threw her arms around my shoulders and began to weep.

  “I was such a fool in coming here,” Agatha whispered in my ear.

  I held her until instructed to do otherwise.

  “Hey, you two, break it up,” Eddie ordered. “Hurry up and get on the helicopter,” he added, giving us a shove.

  Agatha and I climbed into the helicopter followed by Eddie who closed the passenger compartment door. I took a seat and strapped myself in. I had barely done so before my body was pushed into the seat by a sudden ascent. I watched through the window as Agent Stillwell followed by Officer Reese ran across the roof toward the chopper. The next thing I knew my view banked off in a nauseating direction, providing a panoramic view of downtown Seattle at night.

  “Eddie, where are you taking us?” Agatha asked.

  Eddie’s initial response was nothing but a sneer. I personally didn’t care if he told us since I didn’t need Eddie to answer to know exactly where we were going.

  “You’ll find out where we’re going soon enough, old woman,” Eddie growled. “Now stop calling me Eddie!” he insisted, making my blood run cold.

  Chapter 19

  It was of course no surprise to me when the helicopter we were in came to a smooth landing in an empty field out behind the Rankles compound. I fully expected to see Randolph Rankles himself awaiting our arrival on the back lawn or standing in the rear doorway of the mansion. Instead, he was waiting in his office. What I didn’t expect was to find Rankles dead. He’d been shot a single time in the forehead with a small caliber bullet from close range.

  The hardwood floors of the office were covered with a hand-woven rug, the rich wood of the walls and bookcases exposed to the viewer. The room was furnished with antiques including a sofa and coffee table. It was all beautiful, but the centerpiece that drew the eye was Rankles’ body lying on the floor beside his swivel chair.

  Agatha blanched when she saw her dead ex-husband. I slipped an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

  The two guards who had accompanied us to Rankles’ office closed the doors to the office behind us and presumably waited outside. Eddie took a seat in his father’s chair, giving little regard to the body lying on the floor beside it.

  “Take a load off, you two,” Eddie ordered, gesturing to a pair of seats facing the large walnut table behind which he sat.

  I was ready to rush him. I’m small but I’m feisty. I thought I could take him. He must have noticed me tensing my muscles preparing to spring because he slipped a small caliber handgun from his coat pocket and laid it on the table within easy reach.

  “I said, take a load off,” Eddie repeated in a threatening tone.

  Actually, I’d already begun to think of the character sitting behind the desk as Evil Eddie. The real Eddie was in the hospital in a coma. Besides, real Eddie would never be this cruel. Nope, I didn’t know who this guy was but I decided to find out.

  “Who are you?” I asked point-blank.

  “Now, that is the fifty-four million dollar question, isn’t it?” Evil Eddie hissed. “How about Eddie? I’ve think I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided I like that name. You may call me Eddie Rankles.”

  “And you’re the one behind the murders, and the attempted murders?”

  “The very one,” Eddie assured me.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “Well, now we come back to those fifty-four million dollars again.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You never did and you never will. Not truly. I played you for a fool and now I have you at my mercy.”

  “Neither of us understands what you’re saying. Y
ou’re talking in riddles,” Agatha scolded. “If you have something to say to us, why don’t you just come out and say it?”

  “Yes. Of course, you’re right,” Eddie replied, placing his elbows on the desktop and steepling his fingers before his face. “Part of what I have to say I can’t personally account for since I wasn’t there. Too bad that dear Daddy is dead. I’m sure he could have recounted the memory more clearly than I will do now.

  “What I have to tell you is the story of a young man and the young woman who fell in love with him. Other stories tell of the two spending all of their waking hours together walking hand in hand, talking about books and movies, eating fine meals, and dancing the night away at any one of a variety of clubs. He was a perfect gentleman and she was his lovely lady. They were married by year end. That’s when the story turns dark.

  “For the gentleman the woman married was a shrewd business man with a hunger for money and most particularly power. However, the accumulation of power combined with the things he had to do to gain that power twisted his mind. Soon he changed, forgetting his manners around the household, and treating his wife and servants as if they were his pitiful employees and business partners. At the same time he took to drinking. One night he took his wife by force and the woman became pregnant.

  “But the woman refused to remain married to such a man. She ran away and continued traveling so her husband could never find her. The only time she stayed in place was to have twin children at a remote women’s home where she put the children up for adoption. Her husband found and adopted the two boys, but his wife succeeded in getting away.”

  “You’re telling us that you’re Eddie’s twin brother?” Agatha gasped.

  “Why, of course I am, Mother,” Eddie replied.

  Now it was my turn to be shocked. Could Agatha really be the mother of Eddie Springer and his evil twin? I looked to her to see if I could read anything in Agatha’s expression. She looked sullen and thoughtful, but she didn’t speak a word.

  “Personally, I can understand why you worked so hard to keep your children out of the grasp of such a monster. In his sick, twisted mind, Randolph Rankles was determined to groom the perfect heir to take over his empire for when he was gone. He had no use for twins, feeling that having the two of us only confused the matter. So he raised us as a single individual, raised us in the business, going so far as to name us both Eddie. He even named his new corporation Rankles and Edwards, alluding to his two Eddies. You see, there is no single Edwards.

  “We were never allowed to leave the home compound, and Daddy’s employees were loyal, so word never got out about us twins.

  “Though we look alike, Eddie and I couldn’t be more different in personality. It would seem that Eddie inherited his good nature from his wonderful mother while I inherited only from dear old Dad. While I rose into the business to assist my father in his pursuit of power and influence, Eddie rebelled, leaving the family home to make a nuisance of himself.”

  “And you murdered Knox and Daniels because they were getting in the way of your pursuit of power?”

  “Au contraire, Ms. Boston. You missed the point entirely.”

  “Surely you’re not going to try to tell me that you didn’t murder these people?”

  “Oh, I murdered them alright. And I found that I enjoyed it immensely. In fact, I plan to murder people on a regular basis after this is over.”

  “I don’t understand, what are you trying to tell us?” I admitted.

  “Come now, and you’re supposed to be the smart one. My father’s company wasn’t corrupt. I was. He never embezzled from or laundered money for the mob. I did. He didn’t base a set of murders on the plots to books by his beloved ex-wife to clear his company. I did. Now my father, bless his heart, is going to take the fall for everything: the company corruption, the mob connections, the company’s ultimate collapse, and the murders. Randolph Rankles will have killed himself in his office rather than face the authorities. Meanwhile, I’ll walk away scot-free with a cool fifty-four million dollars.”

  “So, this has all been about money?” I challenged.

  “And power and influence,” Eddie amended.

  There was a pause in the conversation during which everyone took a breath and digested what had already been said. Even Eddie looked to be surprised and somewhat relieved at what he’d been able to bring himself to divulge. His seeming ease lasted only a moment until he remembered Agatha sitting in the chair before him.

  “I found a complete set of C. J. Masterson in the library. My father cherished those books as he always did you. I memorized them as a child. When I needed yet another link to tie my father to the murders, I used his unending love for you.

  “So, what of it, Mother? Do you want to provide any words of placation for having left your newborn twins behind to be discovered and raised by a brute? Do you know what he did to us without anyone to protect us?”

  Agatha required only a moment to gather her thoughts. As is usually the case when she speaks in a pressure situation, they were the right words. At the same time she dropped a bomb.

  “Eddie, I feel so sorry for what you’ve had to go through, but I’m not your mother. Yes, I ran away from the brute you refer to in my youth, but I didn’t give birth to twins at the women’s home. I had a miscarriage,” Agatha clarified.

  “Liar!” Eddie exclaimed, pounding the table.

  “Eddie, I wish I was lying,” Agatha continued bluntly, “but you’re not my son. I know this for a fact, and the records at the women’s home will confirm it.”

  Eddie rose from his seat and started to pace. I didn’t view this as a good sign. He started to absentmindedly run his fingers through his hair, ruining the perfect set of it. Having calmed down, Eddie resumed his seat. He suddenly seemed exhausted.

  “You’re only telling us all of this because you intend to kill us, aren’t you?” Agatha said, breaking the silence.

  “Not necessarily,” Eddie corrected. “You see, I have a challenge for Ms. Boston here,” he added, leaning across the desk to address me.

  “A challenge?”

  “Yes. I understand that you like playing games. Well, have I got a game for you.”

  Eddie didn’t get up, he merely moved a finger. A door behind me slid open with the audible sound of internal mechanics. I turned my head to see an opening in the wall. There was a lighted room beyond the door. I was obviously meant to enter. Still, I remained glued to my chair and began to feel myself sweat.

  “Welcome to my game room,” Eddie announced.

  “Why should I play your game, Eddie?” I asked. “You’re only going to kill us in the end anyway.”

  “Ah, but you don’t know that. On the other hand, you know that I will most definitely kill you if you don’t play along.”

  I looked back to the game room door. I didn’t want to go in. I could sense death waiting inside. Then I looked to Agatha who shook her head in the negative. I wondered if there might be something in the other room that I might use as a weapon. I rose from my chair.

  “Chloe, where are you going?” Agatha wanted to know.

  What if I could make Eddie think that I was going through the door? Would he let down his guard? Could I tackle him? But what about the guards outside the office door?

  I found myself walking toward the game room door.

  “Chloe, stop! There has to be another way,” Agatha called.

  “Chloe, stop,” Eddie taunted and then began laughing.

  Before I could reason through what I was doing, I’d stepped through the door into the game room. I heard a mechanical clank as the door closed and locked behind me.

  Chapter 20

  I was in an empty nondescript room. There was nothing hanging on the walls except for a small spotlight pointing down from the far corner. The position and angle of it dazzled my eyes and cast ominous shadows in the corners. The air seemed dead still as if the Game Master also had control of the atmosphere. I took a step and could hear the soun
d of my heel contacting the floor it was so quiet. As I walked to the center of the room the light went out. I wasn’t left in darkness for long. Before my heart could skip a beat an intense light show commenced complete with flashing colored spots and laser effects. I was stunned. I shaded my eyes against the assault.

  “Chloe, can you hear me?” a digitally modified voice asked through a hidden speaker.

  “Yes, I can hear you,” I replied.

  “Good. I am the Game Master. We’re about to play a game to see if you live or you die.”

  “No you aren’t,” I replied insolently. “You’re Eddie Rankles and we both know how this game is going to end.”

  “Today, we’ll play a series of games,” the Game Master continued, ignoring my jibe. “Losing at a game comes with its consequence. Earlier games come with little consequence while later games could cost you a limb or even your life.”

  I waited for further explanation. Meanwhile, the light show ended and the single spotlight reappeared in the corner. There was now a table and chair set up in the room. I had no idea where they had come from. I looked around but saw no one and no means of entrance other than the door I’d come through. I approached the table. There was a wooden box on its surface with a brass knob on one side and two large brass buttons on top, one etched with the word “Yes” and the other “No.”

  “Please be seated,” said the Game Master.

  I took a seat, assuming that the first game was to be a series of questions.

  “Your first game will be a series of questions. Please grab the brass knob on the side of the box and prepare to answer.”

  I’m not stupid. I immediately recognized the potential hazard inherent in grabbing a metal knob and then pressing a metal button. It’s called completing the circuit. I’d made a similar device in an electronics class at school. The device would administer a mild shock if the user failed to traverse an ever narrowing slot in a sheet of metal with a metal rod. I didn’t know how much juice this wooden box could deliver, but the purpose behind its design was obvious.