David Baldacci: Memory Man

Decker had no idea if this was true, but he suspected that it was. That outflow of cash from the Wyatts’ account had to have gone somewhere. And he doubted that Leopold would want the “heir” around to find out. When he looked at Leopold the expression on the man’s face told him that he was right.

Decker said, “And did he tell you that his family was murdered? Wife and daughter?”

“They were murdered,” said Wyatt.

“Yes, they were.”

“By cops.”

“No, not by cops. He killed them.”

Decker heard the hammer of the gun being pulled back.

“You’re full of shit. You’re lying!” screamed Wyatt.

Anger, lack of control, that’s good. To a point.

Decker slowly shook his head. “I read the file. I looked at the pictures of the corpses. They were both strangled to death. By hanging. At the napes of their necks where the ligature compressed the life out of them they found a very unusual mark. It was nearly identical on both. The Austrian police didn’t know what it was. They were baffled because the killer had cut the victims down and taken the rope with him. They were baffled because they never suspected Leopold. Lucky guy had another ironclad alibi provided by a couple of buddies who swore he was in Germany at the time. If they had suspected Leopold and done some digging they probably would have arrived at the truth behind the mark.”

Decker felt the gun muzzle against his head.

Leopold said, “You said you’ve died twice? Well, they say the third time ist the charm.”

Decker kept going. “I had seen that mark before. It was in a book I read and, of course, never forgot, because we can never forget anything, can we, Belinda? Like you said.” He paused and studied her. When she seemed about to speak he said sharply, “It’s called a double constrictor knot. It’s like a clove hitch but with an overhand knot under two riding turns. I actually practiced tying it on the flight back from Utah. I discovered that it’s nearly impossible to untie once the knot is set. In fact, it’s one of the most effective binding knots in the world. Been around at least since the 1860s. It’s also called the gunner’s knot.” He glanced at Leopold. “Every sailor worth his salt knows how to tie that knot. And before your friend here was on submarines, he grew up sailing with his father, who was a fisherman working in the Adriatic Sea six months out of the year.” He looked at Wyatt. “I can keep going. As you know, it’s all in my head. Every fact, every detail.”

“Submarines?” said Leopold contemptuously. “Austria doesn’t have a navy.”

“No, but Russia does. Which is where you went to live when you were nineteen. You were kicked out of the Russian navy for stealing from your fellow sailors. It took me the longest time to pin down your accent. Because it’s a blend. Austrian, Russian, with an overlay of English.” He glanced sideways at Leopold. “ Ist good, Herr Leopold? You said it at the bar. And you said it again just a minute ago. Maybe you didn’t even realize?”

Leopold struck him on the side of the head with the gun.

Decker slumped over.

Now his leg and his head were hurting like a bitch. His tolerance for pain was greater than most. You didn’t play football for as long as he had without being able to take pain. But a bullet to the head would not be painful. He would just be dead.

He looked up at Wyatt, who was looking at Leopold. Decker couldn’t see Leopold’s face, so he didn’t know where he was looking. But the gun was now pressed against his temple.

“You see the lump on his neck, Belinda? I think the guy is terminal and doesn’t give a shit what he does. He’s also a druggie. And needs money for that. And I think he likes to make other people do things. I think he’s a con man who likes to take people who are in desperate circumstances and screw with them. And if he makes millions in the process, like he did with you, so much the better.”

“Sebastian?” said Wyatt weakly.

That was not what Decker wanted to hear. That was not going to cut it.

“He’s full of shit,” said Leopold.

That was also not going to cut it.

Decker barked, “ You killed all those people, Belinda. But there were gaps. Nearly twenty years go by and then you kidnap Giles Evers. Then you come and kill my family. Who was next? Your parents? Chris Sizemore? Then a gap. Then Mansfield. And then Nora Lafferty.”

“And now you,” snarled Leopold.

“Why the gaps, Belinda? Why come after me twenty years later? Was it him? Was it this guy? ‘Justice Denied’? Is that why all that time went by before you started killing? From the moment I said it twenty years ago I know you remembered that I wanted to be a cop. I recalled the stunned look on your face, the hurt you were feeling. But you did nothing with it. Not all that time. Until you ran into this guy. And you told him. And you told him about your parents’ blackmail money. And he saw his chance. And in your mind he twisted what I said and made it into your absolute obsession, your total and complete vendetta. The one thing that you could do to make it all right. The only thing in life you cared about because otherwise you would have no life.”

“Why would I do that?” said Leopold. “This was her revenge, not mine. She had to make it right. She came to me!”

“So it was her idea to make herself look like a big man with guns blazing, mowing down defenseless kids.” He looked at Wyatt. “Are you telling me that’s what you wanted, Belinda? Seducing a vulnerable young woman like Debbie Watson and then blowing her head off? You came up with that? She was almost your age when you were raped. She was just a scared kid with a screwed-up home life. Like you had! She wanted to have a better life. And you seduced her. Made her fall in love with you to such an extent that she called you Jesus, her savior. And then you just killed her? Like she was nothing? Like she didn’t matter? Like you didn’t matter? Like when people who you thought would protect you did just the opposite? Is that your idea of revenge, Belinda? Because I’m not buying it. That’s not you. I don’t care how much you changed. You haven’t changed that much!”

Wyatt said nothing. But Decker took it as a positive sign that Wyatt was not looking at him. She was staring at Leopold.

She rose from the crate. “Did you take my parents’ money?”

“Why would I? Do you see me rolling in cash?”

Decker was not going to lose control of the situation. He barked out, “He does it for kicks, Belinda. He likes to manipulate. He must have loved what you did at the school. It was choreographed, like a play. And maybe he has the money socked away in a bank somewhere. But he killed his family, so why would he have founded ‘Justice Denied’? The only justice denied with Leopold was his getting away with murdering his family.”

Wyatt said, “Is this true?”

Decker expected more denials. He did not get them.

“Yes,” said Leopold emphatically. “Do you feel better?”

He swiveled the gun away from Decker’s head. At the same moment Decker launched himself sideways, pushing off mostly with his good leg and taking the chair with him.

The gun fired.

Decker catapulted headlong into Leopold, finally delivering the hit on the field during the kickoff denied to him for two decades. It felt good.

Leopold fell sideways with the brutal impact. Decker was sure the man had never been hit that hard in his life. Those who only watched pro football from the safety of their stadium seats or big-screen TVs could never imagine the devastating power of enormous men running at speed into other enormous men. It was like being in a car accident over and over. It didn’t merely hurt; it stunned. It shocked the body in so many different ways that one could never be the same afterward. It pushed bone, muscle, ligaments, and brains to places they were never intended to go. It was no wonder that so many men who had played the game were now suffering the long-term debilitating effects of entertaining millions and making large sums of money for doing so.