Faye Kellerman - Sanctuary

“Gold has an alibi.”

Marge said, “Gold can also bribe. The man had also been a sniper in the Israeli army. We both know that a sniper’s just a sanctioned murderer anyway.”

“That’s a shitty thing to say,” Decker blurted out. “What the hell do you know about wartime rules anyway?”

The car grew cold and quiet.

Marge stumbled until she found some words. “Look, if I hit a nerve, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to solve a case, okay?”

Decker ran his hands over his face. “Sorry.” He clapped his hands. “You’re right. We’re working on a case here. Go on.”

“Where was I?” Marge asked softly. “I lost my train of thought.”

Decker said, “You were thinking that Milligan hired Gold to blow Yalom away.”

“When you state it like that, it sounds ridiculous. I was just talking theoretically.”

“Theory’s all we have,” Decker said quietly.

Marge drove a minute, then said, “You want some coffee, Pete?”

“I’d love some.”

“Shall we live dangerously and try out for the corner coffee vendor?”

“I’m game. Just don’t get me anything designer.”

“I know, I know. Black coffee-”

“Plain black coffee. Nothing with a lemon peel in it.”

Marge let out a small laugh, pulled over, and parked the car. She got out and a minute later brought back two steaming paper cups to the Plymouth. They drank in silence. Decker broke it.

“Sorry I jumped on you, Margie.”

“No prob.” She looked down, then back at Decker. “You want to talk to me about it, Rabbi?”

“Talk to you about what?”

“About what pushed your button.”

“No, not particularly.”

Marge broke into laughter and so did Decker. He said, “I’m fucked up. End of story. Back to the case, Margie. Assume that Milligan had been dealing with Yalom because he was blackmailing her.”

“A logical leap, but okay. Assume blackmail. What could Yalom have had on Milligan?”

No one spoke.

“The hard part, huh?” Marge smiled. “If he was blackmailing her, the woman would have to have a past. How about she was a hooker?”

Decker shook his head.

Marge pursed her lips. “Yeah, she’s too pretty and too smart. We need something classier, huh? She was a call girl-an expensive call girl.”

Again, Decker shook his head.

Marge said, “Okay, forget hooker. How about…she has a record.”

“Seems to me a company like VerHauten would scrutinize its top employees. A rap sheet would be an easy thing to check out.”

“Not if she was a juvenile at the time and the records had been sealed.”

“Assuming the South African legal system is the same as ours.”

Marge made a face. “You’re right. I don’t know if they’re comparable.”

Decker said, “I don’t know if she’s even South African. She could be English or Australian or Rhodesian. Only it’s not Rhodesia anymore.”

“What’s it called now?”

“Uh…Rhodesia’s Zimbabwe, I think.”

“So she could be Zimbabwean,” Marge said. “Pete, I don’t know anything about the Zimbabwean legal system.”

They both laughed. Marge said, “The fact still remains that she could have been a former felon-juvenile or otherwise.”

“And you don’t think a giant like VerHauten would have found out about that?”

“Well then, how about this, Pete?” Marge said, testily. “How about you suggest some theories and I’ll shoot them down?”

“Fair enough. Okay. We have a beautiful, brilliant lady who worked for one of the biggest, wealthiest, most powerful monopolies in the world. If she had a skeleton, what would it be?”

Decker tapped his foot.

“A reformed hooker just wouldn’t have made it up the ladder that far. That only happens in Hollywood. And a felon wouldn’t have made it that big, either. Former felons don’t become high-powered, seven-figure-a-year corporate lawyers. They become screenwriters.”

Marge erupted into laughter. “No, former cops become screenwriters.”

“Or even novelists if they’re talented.” Decker smiled. “So what could put a woman like Milligan under?”

Marge said, “VerHauten is a bastion of conservatism. How about if she was illegitimate?”

Decker paused. “That’s not bad.”

“You like that?”

“It’s a start. She could have come from trash and she’s trying to hide her roots. But then again, I venture to say VerHauten would have done an extensive background check on her-who her family was, where she went to school, things like that. If she came from poor stock, they would have found out about it.”

The car was quiet.

Decker said, “You know, I’m thinking like a white, American male. Milligan’s a white, rich, South African female-”

“With an emphasis on the rich part. You see her suit? A Cesucci. Musta cost two grand if it was a penny.”

“I didn’t even notice.”

“See, the ordinary Joe Blow isn’t supposed to notice. Then it wouldn’t be classy. It’s strictly for the upper crust to notice.”

“So my roots are showing,” Decker said. “Margie, what would be a big no-no for a rich, white, educated, established, South African female.”

“Having an affair with a black.” She looked at Decker. He was grinning. She said, “Even if it was true, how would Yalom have found out about it? Yalom and not VerHauten.”

“Good question,” Decker admitted. “The only thing I can think of is…God, how do I say this without feeding stereotypes and prejudice.”

“Spit it out.”

“The Jewish diamond network.”

Marge laughed. “Too much talking to Tug.”

Decker smiled. “Remember the way Milligan spoke about the diamond cutters…described them as gossipy and clannish. I think she was referring to the Jews, Marge. Because the Jews are primo diamond cutters. And just maybe she was talking from experience. Maybe one of them saw and heard something. And Yalom was a greedy bastard who took advantage of the situation.”

Marge said, “So say we’re right. Say somewhere in Milligan’s past she had a torrid affair with a black. Does that kind of thing make a difference in this day and age?”

“Not if you’re an ordinary Jane. But if you’re a South African working for a white, conservative company like VerHauten, I think it could make a hell of a difference.”

“Yeah, VerHauten is an entity unto itself,” Marge said. “As long as we’re spinning fairy tales, let’s take it a step farther. Assume Milligan wanted Yalom out of the way for good. I still think Gold would make the perfect triggerman.”

“Why would Milligan hire Gold to pop Yalom? Wouldn’t she be worried that now he’d become a problem, too? Take on where Yalom left off?”

“But Gold wouldn’t be a problem now. He’s figuratively in bed with Milligan.”

Decker thought about that. “So let me play Devil’s advocate. Why would Gold have bitten the hand that fed him?”

“Because he was sick of playing the supporting role, sick of Arik being the big man on campus.”

“Gold had amassed a mighty fine African art collection by being number two.”

“So Gold was an ingrate. It’s been known to happen. Anyway, this was Gold’s big chance. Once he got rid of Arik, he got not only the business but the wife. Remember the Lexus parked outside the house every week.”

“Dalia was killed along with her husband, Marge.”

Marge frowned. “Yeah, you’re right. That was stupid. Okay, so maybe the Lexus being parked outside the house was just Gold and Yalom doing business. So just assume Gold popped Yalom to get him out of the way. Dalia was the side dish-got eaten in the process. It still makes sense, Gold got the business and Milligan got her little blackmail problem solved.”