by Jade Astor
“That’s me.” Argo shook his hand. Lampson turned to Darian, his smile much friendlier than expected.
“And you must be Mr. Winter. Thanks for making the trip out here. I’m sure you had better things to do with your time, though I suspect the scenery here helps make up for any inconvenience.” He tilted his head toward the nearby beach and its photogenic occupants.
“It was a pleasant drive,” Argo said, deliberately misunderstanding.
Lampson picked up on his resistance and effortlessly shifted gears. “The tropics make a welcome change, don’t they? You’re from the north, like me. North of England, in my case. Come in.” Lampson led them through a small but immaculate sitting room and through a sliding glass door. “It’s nice out, so I thought we could talk on the deck. Looking at the ocean has a cleansing effect on most any conversation, don’t you agree? But first, a drink? I have sweet tea, water, and the usual variety of stronger options.”
“I’m fine,” Argo said. Darian would have appreciated some tea, but shook his head. He understood Argo’s reluctance, recalling the near-disastrous result last time they accepted a suspect’s hospitality. Instead, they took seats on a wicker loveseat near the deck’s wooden rail. Lampson’s gaze drifted wistfully to a group of extraordinarily fit young men playing volleyball on the beach.
“Aesthetics are so important to a happy life, aren’t they?” Lampson chortled. “It took me many years to realize that. Let us get something out of the way at once. Seahorse Shores is private property—extremely exclusive, as I’m sure you realize. So you understand I wouldn’t just invite anyone here. You assured me you were…shall we say…sympathetic to my taste in leisure activities.”
“We are,” Argo confirmed. “What I’m not sympathetic to is murder.”
“Yes, poor Gabrielle. A great loss, though I’d be lying if I said her death surprised me. She liked to play with fire. Sometimes people like her accidentally immolate themselves.”
“Tell us about your interactions with her. How long have you known her?”
“Gabi and I met in Europe. She ran a service for people who enjoy touring castles, and for many years I maintained a similar venture. Unlike some of the clients who fancy themselves blue-blooded, I actually am the distant descendant of an earl. Alas, I was excluded from inheriting an actual title, but I am able to profit from my connections to what we might call the privileged class. Gabrielle became interested in the business and interned with me some years ago before she branched out on her own. In fact, I introduced her to her wealthy husband.”
Argo nodded. “We heard. So it’s safe to say the two of you were close?”
“I considered her a friend—at least initially.”
“What happened?” Darian asked.
“Gabrielle was what you Americans like to call pushy. I take it you met the woman? Then you know she had no morals, either in the boardroom or behind closed doors. That became abundantly clear to me as soon as I arrived for her ostentatious holiday party.”
“Tell us about your visit.”
“Gabrielle discovered I was coming to Florida on another business-related matter. She insisted I stop over at Mermaid Towers, her late husband’s property—now her own, thanks in no small part to me. All complementary, she said. One old friend supporting another. And, most importantly, a chance to talk about a possible investment opportunity. I agreed, though I had my doubts. They were well-founded, it turned out.”
“I think I understand what happened next,” Argo said. “Darian and I examined the VIP suite earlier today.”
“She must have thought me a fool. Did she think I had never seen a bugged room before—I, who cater to minor royals and wealthy people with…shall we say…eccentric tastes? It could hardly have been more obvious if she’d clamped a video camera to the headboard.”
While Lampson sneered, Darian glanced from him to Argo and back again. Had he drifted off and missed a huge chunk of the conversation?
Argo focused on Lampson, no doubt registering every facial tic and vocal quiver. He knew how to spot liars. He also knew how to draw confessions out of them. His voice remained calm, even soothing, as he settled back and folded his hands over his midsection, assuming a nonthreatening pose.
“So her plan didn’t succeed.”
“To say the least.” Lampson laughed. “I must say, I’m still astonished that Gabi didn’t know as much about me as I did about her. I thought surely she had figured things out. Then again, I’ve always been discreet in my home country. The UK is not quite as accepting of such things as you Americans are, though tastes like ours are hardly unheard of.”
Darian cleared his throat. “I’m sorry…but I feel like I’m missing something here. Can we back up a little? And where does Zara fit into all this?”
“Terribly sorry to be opaque. Zara, of course, was the bait Gabrielle dangled in front of me. What a miscalculation! A lovely young woman, to be sure, and I can see why Gabi assumed I would be quite taken with her. How wrong she was! The irony is that I was perfectly open to having an affair. But not with Zara. With Kyle.”
“Kyle!” Darian blurted.
“Yes. You know him, I believe. A most appealing young man.”
“That he is,” Argo agreed. “But let’s get back to Gabrielle. You’re saying she was determined to compromise you and catch the event on surveillance equipment.”
“I figured it out the night of the party. Zara was most persuasive about my inviting her into my suite. She claimed she’d never been inside it since the renovations, which I doubted, but that she heard the beds were especially comfortable. Well, I don’t think either of you will be surprised when I told her I was not in the least interested, and stated exactly why. I can’t say who was more astonished when I gave her the push right there at the door of the suite—Zara or Gabrielle, whom I summoned to overhear the whole sorry exchange on speakerphone.”
“That was the end of it?”
“Not quite. I’ll give Gabrielle this much credit. She is—or, rather, she was—not a quitter. Took her all of five minutes to use my interest in Kyle to blackmail me. She miscalculated badly when she threatened to tell my wife. The fact is, Mrs. Lampson knows about, and is perfectly at peace with, my orientation.”
“That’s very understanding of her,” Argo said skeptically.
“My generation is different from yours. We had to be—it wasn’t so long ago that what I desired was unacceptable in certain social circles, if not outright illegal. But then, you know all about that, don’t you, Sheriff?”
“That’s not fair,” Darian began, offended. “Argo wouldn’t—”
“Darian, wait,” Argo said quietly.
“My wife knew from the beginning,” Lampson went on, defiant now. “What choice did I have but to tell her? Fortunately, we were friends before anything else, and still are. Yes, we had children together. But we’ve never been lovers in the traditional sense.”
“You mean you’re more like…business partners?” Darian ventured. That certainly wasn’t his idea of a marriage, but he could see why in earlier decades it might be necessary. If his moms had come of age in a different era, they might well have been pressured into marrying obliging men to cover their real feelings. Darian himself might never have been born.
“If you want to put it that way, we were most honest and above board than any business Gabrielle Duval ever ran. Let’s just say our arrangement has suited us both for years. I carried on with my tourism company, provided financial security and emotional support, and raised a respectable family. The true nature of our marriage remained private, yes, and I would never have shared it with Gabrielle…until that night.”
Argo leaned forward. “You lost your temper with her?”
“Nothing so dramatic. More like I finally found the courage to blurt out the truth. The looks on their faces was priceless. Better yet, expressing the words out loud, and for the very first time, unburdened me. Just like that, any power Gabi held over me dissipated. Tell the
world, I said. I won’t deny anything. It was an amazing feeling.” Gerald sighed. “I’ve done some thinking since then, you know. I’ve decided that I can’t live a lie any more. Now that we’re older and more secure, my wife offered to divorce me many times. The children…well, they’ve probably figured it out now that they’re both adults. Why not be honest with everyone? I never wanted to before, but suddenly it’s all I can think about.”
“Honesty is usually the best way,” Darian said.
“I suppose. The thing is, I feel as though my life is about to begin. Maybe I’ll find something like what you two already have.” He laughed at their startled expressions. “It’s obvious, you know. Be proud. Hold onto one another. Don’t waste time denying your feelings the way I once did.”
Argo cleared his throat. “Back to that night. You realize Gabrielle was killed just a few hours later?”
“So I understood. A police officer with a strange name, and even stranger hair, came to talk to me about it.”
“Lanislaw,” Argo supplied. “How much of this story did you tell him?”
“No more than necessary. I didn’t find him especially sympathetic, and I certainly wasn’t about to offer myself up for a murder investigation.”
“You didn’t tell him you thought the room was bugged?”
“Why should I? You figured it out for yourself, Sheriff. I assume he could, too.”
“Did you stay in the room that night? Video surveillance and all?”
“It was a bit late to find other accommodations.” Lampson smiled. “You’re thinking that I already knew Gabrielle would not be around to watch the footage. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but that was hardly the reason. Instead, I took a less risky approach. I simply draped sheets over all her dreadful little statues and paintings and left the lights off while I showered and changed. I can assure you she captured nothing on film that would be of the slightest interest to anyone—except possibly a defense lawyer, if it ever came to that. Any such video, if it does exist, will prove I was in my room exactly when I should have been. Bizarre, isn’t it? Gabi herself gave me the perfect alibi.”
“And you checked out as soon as Lanislaw cleared you?”
“Yes. I already had a reservation here, and the owner is a friend who let me check in early. I’m sure you can verify my story if you are so inclined. Your colleague…Lanislaw?...already did.”
Argo nodded. “Just one more question, if you don’t mind. During your stay at Mermaid Towers, did you meet another employee of Gabrielle’s—a fellow named Carl?”
“No.” Lampson’s expression didn’t change at all, suggesting he had no idea Carl was also dead. “Was he in on Gabrielle’s blackmail scheme, too? Because I believe the lot of them were. Zara, certainly, and most likely Kyle as well. No matter, though. I’m immune to any such threat now. Bottom line, Sheriff, I wasn’t the only one with good reason to be angry at her. But in the end, she did me a great service. I’m almost grateful to her in a way.” Tilting his head back, Lampson offered the sky a military-style salute. “Here’s to you, Gabi, wherever you are. Oh, wait—perhaps I should have directed that gesture toward someplace lower and much hotter. At least living in Florida allowed her to build up a tolerance.” Laughing, he waved at the deck beneath their feet instead. “Ta, old girl. Thanks for the memories, if nothing else.”
“We won’t take up any more of your time. I appreciate your seeing us.” Argo rose to go. Darian and Lampson followed him to his feet.
“My pleasure. I hope my tale proved enlightening to you in one way or another.” At the door, Lampson smiled again. “I must admit, Gabrielle’s error still confounds me. For a student of sociology, she certainly misinterpreted her data.”
The two of them paused in mid-stride. Argo spoke first.
“Sociology?”
“Yes. Didn’t you know? The poor dear started off dreaming of a career as an academic. Can you believe that? It all came out in conversation at the castle, one night after a fair amount of wine at dinner. She got into tourism after doing some research on study abroad. Not surprised she packed it in, though. Intellectual pursuits hardly bring in the kind of money she required. She would have lived longer, of course—hard to say if she would have considered that a fair trade-off. If I’m being honest, I tend to think she might.”
“Well, that was mind-blowing, to use a technical term,” Darian said as they drove past the guard station again. The same muscle-bound attendant offered them a cheery wave goodbye. “What do you make of Lampson? Could he have sneaked out of his room and done it somehow? Who could blame him for flipping out over almost being blackmailed?”
“Only it never got that far. He had the last laugh over Gabrielle, if he’s telling the truth. And his story’s almost too fantastic to be anything but true.”
“Not even Maizi suspected anything like that, I’ll bet. It kind of makes sense Gabrielle studied human behavior. She put her education to a more practical use than most people do.” Darian shook his head in wonder. “How did you figure out the room was bugged?”
“I wasn’t sure. The placement of the artwork made me suspicious. Stuff like that is a perfect place to hide pinhole cameras and so forth. Cops do it all the time during sting operations. Plus, Carl sneaked in and didn’t steal any of it. That made me think Kyle tipped him off about what was really going on.”
“Oh, right! His threat to expose Gabrielle’s secrets. That’s what he was talking about. Her secret stash of videos. Has to be.”
“Most likely. She had a promising game plan, if you stop and think about it. Lure the type of people who can pay big bucks for offbeat kinds of entertainment, and pay again to cover it all up. Your mom wasn’t kidding about the VIP suite being a sound investment.”
“No way did my mom know anything about it,” Darian said.
“I agree with you there. Unfortunately, Lampson’s probably right about Zara and Kyle being in on the plan. You said yourself Kyle was skilled with computers. The day I met him, he bragged how he trapped one of your teachers into clicking on a compromising web site. The whole thing might even have been his idea.”
“Yeah, it always comes back to Kyle. He’s the nexus of all of this, isn’t he?”
“Looks that way. I’m sorry, Darian.”
“It’s just so hard to imagine. I mean, I’ve known him almost all my life. He’s selfish and shallow, okay, but a killer, too?”
“Maybe it’s more complicated than we thought. Say he tries to subvert Gabrielle’s blackmail scheme, either because he has an attack of conscience or—more likely—he sees a way to turn a profit for himself. She wasn’t the type to take being double-crossed lightly.”
“I suppose not.”
“Say the incident with Lampson sparked some kind of confrontation between them. Maybe she ordered him to go up to the room and talk to Lampson—or seduce him. Kyle resists, for whatever reason. Gabrielle tells him to shape up or ship out. Maybe she decided to fire him along with Carl. Kyle had a lot to lose. He grabs a knife from the buffet and follows her out. He catches up to her on the beach…well, I don’t need to go any further, do I?”
“And what happened to Carl in the steam room? You think Kyle did that, too?”
“It fits. I’ll bet Kyle told Carl about the blackmail when they went up to the VIP room. It might have slipped out—maybe Carl suggested they fool around on the bed and Kyle told him why that wasn’t a good idea. So now Carl has leverage. Say he demanded money—Kyle might offer to meet him in the locker room. Things go south. Kyle grabs the sash off a nearby bathrobe, takes care of the problem, then sets it up so you find the body.”
“I know him, Argo. He looked genuinely shocked when we opened that door.”
“No doubt it seemed that way. But look at the bright side. We’ve done what we set out to do. We’ve cleared both your moms.”
Darian rode in silence as despair and anger bubbled up in his chest. Argo’s theory made perfect sense. Kyle had played him for a patsy and casually
thrown Ange to the wolves, all in order to save himself.
“Do you think Lanislaw will see it your way?” he asked after a while.
“I plan to make sure he does. In fact, why don’t I call him right now? We can stop for coffee up here. I could have used some earlier, but I wasn’t about to take a cup from Lampson until we’d checked him out.”
“I had the same thought,” Darian returned Argo’s wry smile.
They pulled over at the first fast food joint they came to. Darian got in line to place their order while Argo wandered off to the edge of the parking lot so he could speak to Lanislaw in private. Darian didn’t mind. He was just as happy not hearing another detailed description of the first guy he’d ever kissed committing two murders.
When Argo came back, he looked calmer but sadder. Darian handed him one of the coffees.
“Lanislaw’s been busy. The good news is that he’s come to the same conclusion we have. They’re processing Kyle’s arrest right now. He still wants to interview Ange, but mostly as a potential witness since she was in the hotel last night.”
“You told him what we learned today? About Gerald Lampson and Gabrielle’s blackmail schemes?”
“He’d already worked out most of it himself. Kyle got scared and did some babbling, apparently. He hasn’t confessed to the murders, but Lanislaw figures it’s just a matter of time.”
“Lanislaw wasn’t mad that we drove out here without telling him? That we interfered with a witness?”
“I didn’t go into much detail. In fact, he warned me not to tell him how we got the information. So I didn’t.”
“Ah.” Darian sipped his coffee, barely tasting it. His mind started racing again. “Argo, I’ve been wondering…what did Lampson mean when he made that crack about illegal acts between men? At first I thought he was just referring to your job, but then I got to thinking. You must have pulled some strings to get him to talk to us in the first place. And you seemed to know his secret—or at least you weren’t surprised. I was stunned, but you didn’t bat an eyelash.”
