Lawrence Sanders - Tenth Commandment

'It surely is,' he murmured, a wee bit too fervently.

'However,' I said, sinking the hook as deeply as I could,

'if the body is discovered, regardless of whether he died a natural death or was a victim of accident or foul play, the estate goes to probate.' I thought I had said enough and changed the subject abruptly. 'Pastor, did you tell me you were from Chicago originally?'

'Not the city itself,' he said, meeting my gaze. 'A suburb. Why do you ask?'

'I have a cousin who lives there, and he's invited me out for a visit. I've never been in Chicago and wondered if I'd like it.'

'You'll find a lot to do there,' he said tonelessly.

'Did you like it?' I persisted.

'For a while,' he said. 'I must confess, Joshua, I get bored easily. So I came on to New York.'

'New worlds to conquer?' I asked.

'Exactly,' he said with a wry grin.

'And you haven't regretted it?'

'Once or twice,' he said, still grinning, 'at three in the morning.'

I found it difficult to resist the man's charm. For one brief instant I doubted all I had learned about him, all I had imagined.

I tried to analyze why this should be so, why I was fighting an admiration for the man. Most of it, I thought, was due to his physical presence. He was big, strong, stalwart: everything I was not. And he was decisive, daring, resolute.

More than that, he really did possess an elemental power. Behind the bright laugh, the bonhomie, the intelligence and wit, there was naked force, brute force. I realized then how much I wanted him to like me.

Which meant that I feared him. It was not a comforting realization.

We finished our drinks without again alluding to either the Kipper or Stonehouse matters. Knurr insisted on paying for the drinks. He left a niggardly tip.

He said he had an appointment uptown, and since I was returning to the TORT building, we parted company under the hotel marquee. We shook hands and said we'd be in touch.

I watched him stride away up Fifth Avenue, erect in the rain. He seemed indomitable. I tried to get a cab, then gave up and took a downtown bus. It was crowded, damp, and smelled of mothballs. I got back to my office a little after one o'clock and stripped off wet hat, coat, and rubbers. I stuck my dripping umbrella in the wastebasket.

I called Stilton's office and was told he couldn't come to the phone at the moment. I left my number, asking that he call back. Then I sat staring at the blank wall and ignoring the investigation requests filling my IN basket.

I was still thinking about the Reverend Godfrey Knurr. I acknowledged that the resentment I felt towards him could be traced to my feeling that he took me lightly, that he patronized me. The glib lies and little arm punches, the genial pats on shoulder and knee, and that bright, insolent laugh. That he considered me a lightweight, a nuisance perhaps, but of no consequence bore out my worst fears about myself. I strove to keep in mind that by attacking my self-esteem, he was attempting to gain control over me.

I opened the Kipper and Stonehouse files and reread only those notes pertaining to Godfrey Knurr. He seemed to move through both affairs like a wraith. I suspected him to be the prime mover, the source, the instigator of all the desperate events that had occurred. I had enough notes about the man: his strength, determination, charm, etc. I even had a few titbits on his background.

But I knew almost nothing about the man himself, who he was, what drove him, what gave him pleasure, what gave him pain. He was a shadow. I had no handle on him.

I could not explain what he had done yesterday or predict what he might do tomorrow.

I was looking for a label for him and could not find it.

And realizing that, I was increasingly doubtful of ensnaring him with our cute tricks and sly games. He was neither a cheap crook nor a cynical confidence man. What he was, I simply did not know. Yet.

My reverie was broken by Percy Stilton returning my call. He was speaking rapidly, almost angrily.

'The Kipper case hasn't been reopened,' he said. 'Not yet it hasn't. The loot didn't think I had enough, and bucked it to the Captain. God only knows who he'll take it to, but I don't expect any decision until tomorrow at the earliest. I hope your bosses are using their juice. I had my partner call Knurr last night and pretend he was the cabdriver who drove Stonehouse to the boat basin. Knurr 360

wouldn't bite. Hung up, as a matter of fact. He's toughing it out.'

'Yes,' I said, 'I'm beginning to think we're not going to panic him.'

I told Stilton about my unearthing the Stonehouse will, then detailed the contents.

'Nice,' he said. 'That wraps up Glynis. But Jesus, you didn't lift the will, did you? That would ruin it as evidence.'

'No,' I assured him, 'I left it where it was. But I did steal something else.'

I described the notes Sol Kipper had written to his wife, and how the two I had purloined could perfectly well have served as suicide notes.

'Good work, Josh,' Percy said. 'You're really doing a professional job on this — tying up all the loose ends.'

I was pleased by his praise.

'Something else,' I said. 'I had a long talk with Knurr.

We had a couple of drinks together.'

I reported the substance of our conversation.

'I don't think that photo of Glynis Stonehouse and the poison-pen letter did a bit of good.'

'No,' Stilton said, 'I don't think so either. He got Tippi calmed down and he's going his merry way.'

'Another t h i n g. . ' I said, and told the detective how I had fed Knurr information about laws regarding the disposition of the estate of a missing man.

'Uh-huh,' Percy said. 'You figure that will get him to dump the body? If he's got it?'

'That's what I hoped,' I said. 'Now I'm not so sure he's going to react the way we want him to. Perce, Knurr is a mystery man. I'm not certain we can manipulate him.'

'Yeah,' he said, sighing. 'If he doesn't spook, and if he can keep his women in line, we're dead.'

'There's one possibility,' I said. 'A long shot.'

'What's that?'

'I've been going through all my notes on Knurr.

Remember that interview we had with Bishop Oxman? He gave us the name of Knurr's next-of-kin. Goldie Knurr. A sister.'

'And?'

'What if she's not his sister? What if she's his wife?'

Silence for a moment.

'You're right,' Stilton said finally. 'A long shot.'

'We've got to try it,' I insisted. 'You've got the address?

I think it was in Athens, Indiana.'

He found it in his notebook and I carefully copied it down as he read it to me.

'You're going to give her a call?' Percy asked.

'That wouldn't do any good,' I said. 'If he listed her as a sister, she probably has orders to back him up if anyone inquires.'

'So?'

'So,' I said, making up my mind at that precise instant,

'I think I better go out there and talk to the lady.'

That was what I had to do. I knew it on the spur of the moment. I booked a seat on American to Chicago through the office agency. I had no time to ask permission of Teitelbaum or Tabatchnick. I had no time to listen to Orsini as I tore out of the building.

As luck had it, he was coming in as I left, surrounded by his entourage. I attempted to sneak by, but Orsini's glittering eyes saw everything. A hand shot out and clamped my arm. I looked at the diamond flashing on his pinkie. I looked at the glossy manicured fingernails. My eyes rose to note the miniature orchid in his lapel: an exquisite flower of speckled lavender.

'Josh!' he cried gaily. 'Just the man I wanted to see! I've got a joke you're going to love.'

He glanced smilingly around his circle of sycophants, and they drew closer, already composing their features into expressions of unendurable mirth.