Timothy Hallinan - The four last things

"I have a number of grievances with you, Simeon," Merryman said, letting the smile slip a notch or two, "not the least of which is that you tried to divide Meredith and me. We've had our little problems, I won't deny that. We're not naturally congenial with one another, any more than you and I are, although heaven knows I've been pleasant enough to you. But Meredith and I, in spite of the occasional friction between us, complement each other. We built this operation together. He's a brilliant man of business. I'm a brilliant stage manager. Together we give the people what they want and persuade the people to give us what we want. And we take what they've given us and together we build with it. What's wrong with that?"

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"Don't bother." He winked brightly at Barry. "You'll be talking soon enough."

"He offered me a million dollars," I said.

Merryman's eyes flicked to Brooks. "He did? That's not quite the way he tells it."

"This man came to my house-" Brooks began.

"He called me," I interrupted. "Told me he didn't want to see me at the office. Said he knew I'd been working on Sally's death and he wanted to know if I'd found out what she had on you."

Brooks sputtered. "Dick," he said, "this is-"

Merryman held up a hand. "Go on, Simeon," he said.

"Well, I had been working on it. I kept working on it even after you phoned to warn me off. I knew there was money in it but I didn't know how to use what I'd learned. I was going to come to you to see what it was worth, but then Brooks called and offered me a million on a platter. He invited me over, introduced me to Adelaide-nice lady, by the way…"

"Is she," Merryman said equably, resting his chin on his hand. "I haven't had the pleasure."

"And he asked me what I had. I asked him what it was worth, and he said it was worth a million, cash, if it was something that would allow him to control you absolutely, keep you working for him, but deprive you of whatever power you had in the Church. I said that what I had would do all of that and more, and told him what it was, and we arranged to meet at five this evening for the payoff."

"Isn't that interesting?" Merryman said conversationally. "We hadn't learned that it had gone quite that far."

"It hadn't," Brooks said. His face was filmed with sweat. "He barged in with some cock-and-bull story about dentists and Utica-"

Merryman's gaze flattened and grew opaque. He looked straight at Brooks. "That's enough, Meredith," he said. "It's certainly provocative, isn't it, that you didn't call us after your visit with Simeon last night. If we hadn't had the courtesy to call you to tell you our news about Miss Chan, we probably still wouldn't know all that Simeon knows about dentists and Utica, would we?" He arched his eyebrows and smiled inquiringly. "And it's such fascinating information."

"The Fox sisters," I said. "When you first fell into the Church it must have felt like old home week."

"Meredith doesn't know anything about the Fox sisters," Merryman said. "I'm amazed you do."

Brooks slumped further down in his chair, studying one of his cuff buttons.

"Of course, Simeon," Merryman continued in the same chatty tone, "I realize, and I'm sure that Meredith here does too, that you're just continuing in your effort to divide us. I certainly have no intention of taking seriously anything you've just said. For one thing, I'm positive that Brooks doesn't have a million dollars anywhere that he could have given to you without my knowing it. Do you, Meredith? That isn't the way our bookkeeping works, is it?"

"Of course not," Brooks said faintly.

"You see, Simeon?" Merryman said, shrugging his shoulders. "With a discrepancy like that, how could I take you seriously? The idea that Meredith keeps two sets of books is too absurd to contemplate. Good Lord. I've known the man for eight years."

"Would you miss a hundred thousand?" I said. Brooks shifted nervously in his chair. Merryman put one hand on top of the other, very much the listening doctor.

"You have my attention," he said.

"I'm sure it's all there, of course, right out on the books where it should be. One hundred thousand dollars for delivery of Sally Oldfield."

Merryman looked at Brooks but directed the question to me. "Paid to whom?"

"Hubert Wilburforce." I tried to sound surprised. "You mean you didn't know how Brooks got hold of Sally?"

"No," Merryman said. "I'm embarrassed to say that I didn't. A hundred thousand dollars, Meredith. How much is that per pound? She didn't look like a very big girl. And paid to good old Hubert, too. I must call Hubert one of these days."

He regarded Brooks for a long moment and then sighed. "Well," he said, "it seems my partner hasn't been completely candid this morning. Especially where the books are concerned. We'll have to look into that. Not for a moment, of course, do I believe that Brooks is really a threat to me," he went on almost dreamily. "He's got ink in his veins, foolscap for skin. He's a paper man. Aren't you, Meredith?"

Brooks made a little dry noise that might have been assent.

"But since he hasn't been completely candid, and since I need to know everything you know, Simeon, I'm going to have to ask you a few questions. Then you can go join Miss Chan while we debate the matter of your reward. Stand up."

I looked around me. Barry was standing directly behind my chair. Brooks was still seated, staring fixedly at the floor. He looked old.

"Have you searched him, Barry?"

"I found a gun," Barry said, displaying it.

"Listen to my question, Barry," Merryman said, as though he were speaking to a child. "Have you searched him? Pocket by pocket?"

Barry hesitated.

"No, he didn't," I said.

Merryman smiled up at me, all white teeth and dark skin. "I appreciate the impulse to get Barry into trouble, Simeon, but you'll learn it's counterproductive in the long run. What you want is for Barry to like you, to have a teeny smattering of regret that he has to practice his craft on you."

"I think it's a little late for that," I said.

"You're probably right." Merryman suddenly sounded impatient. "Search him."

Barry patted me down again, then went through one pocket after another. He pulled out everything I'd stashed away the night before: my money, my car keys, my address book, my wallet, a comb, a little travel bottle of after-shave, and two handkerchiefs. I'm not in the habit of carrying a comb, but I thought it would make the after-shave look a little less odd, just in case someone should get a chance to look in my pockets. Barry lined the items up on Merryman's desk. Merryman examined them in turn, pausing to flip through the address book, then picked up the handkerchiefs.

"Is our nose running?" he asked in the first-person plural of medical people all over the world.

"I don't know about yours," I said, "but mine is." I picked up the handkerchiefs and put them back in my pocket.

"We'll keep these for the moment," he said, pocketing the keys, "and I'll want a closer look at this." The address book followed the keys. He opened the after-shave, sniffed it, and handed it back to me. "A bit heavy for my taste," he said. "I prefer real lime."

"So do I," I said, "but who can afford it?"

"Now, Simeon," Merryman said as though I hadn't spoken. "I need to know absolutely everything you've found out, figured out, intuited, guessed, whatever. The complete dossier, anything that might help us to evaluate how much your silence is worth to us. You can think of it as a Listening session if you like, except that we haven't got the time to do it absolutely properly, so we're going to have to accelerate the process. Sit down again."

I sat. Barry passed a belt around my lap, threaded it through the rungs of the chair, and pulled it tight. Then he took my left hand, pulled one of the handkerchiefs from my pocket, and twisted it around my wrist. He knotted the handkerchief through the belt.