Лоуренс Блок - Death Pulls a Doublecross [= Cowards Kiss]

“A most amazing man,” he said. “And just how much do you know, Mr. London?”

“Most of it.”

He sighed. “Tell me,” he said. “I’d like to see how much you know and how you determined it. I don’t suppose it will be much in the way of consolation. But it’s important for a man to know just where he cut his own throat.”

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“Certainly,” he said. He placed them palms-down on his knees. “And if you could point that gun elsewhere—”

He had shown me the same courtesy before, in my own apartment. I could hardly refuse him. I lowered the gun slightly.

I said: “Your name is Franz Wallstein. You occupied a fairly important position in Nazi Germany. You stole a small fortune in jewels and managed to make a clean break when the roof fell in in 1945. You ran for Mexico, then skipped to Buenos Aires. You set yourself up as an importer under the name Heinz Linder and you were doing pretty well. Then the Israelis found your trail again.”

“They are relentless,” he said.

“But you had advance warning. Not much warning — it didn’t leave you time to cash in your home or your business. But you did have enough time to make sure your trail would end forever in Buenos Aires. You found some one who looked enough like you to pass for you. He didn’t have to be a perfect double — you’d been under wraps for fifteen years. You took him home with you and shot him dead.”

He listened with no trace of expression on his face. I got the impression that he was discovering himself now in the words I spoke. His eyes were deep, his features relaxed.

“Maybe you bought cooperation from the government,” I went on. “That’s supposed to be pretty easy in Argentina. At any rate, you left your double dead in your home and let the Israelis take credit for the kill. Then you staged a robbery — filled your suitcase with jewels and caught the first plane to Canada. It was an easier country to enter than the United States. But it wasn’t as easy to set up shop there as it was in Argentina. You’ve got expensive tastes. The money must have gone pretty quickly. You needed more money and you needed it in a hurry.”

“Debts pile up,” he said softly. “And a hunted man must keep his credit good.” There was the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You still had the jewels. They were negotiable, especially if you sold them off a few at a time. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You wanted to latch onto the money without letting go of the jewels. You’re a man who l likes beautiful things and you wanted to keep them.” I paused. “Am I right so far?”

“More or less. I could never have received a shadow of their worth. And they’re very beautiful stones, Mr. London.”

“They must be. Let’s take it a little further. You met Alicia Arden. She knew about a fence — Bannister. That was fine, but you still wanted to sell the jewels without letting go. So the two of you cooked up a swindle. You managed to hook up with three or four professional thieves and you sold them on the notion of acting as agents for the sale of the jewels. According to what you told them, they would go to New York to handle the transfer of the gems for the money.”

“It’s common enough,” he said. “They took their chances in return for a cut of the proceeds.”

“That was the setup, sure. You even let them cache the jewels and make up only one set of keys. That was to keep you from stealing the stuff back and leaving Bannister holding the briefcase. They were honest thieves, as you said. But they weren’t careful enough. You and Alicia fixed things so that both Bannister and the thieves would be out in the cold.”

“You know the details, Mr. London?”

I looked at him. I wondered where Maddy was, what she was doing. I glanced out the window and watched the sky turn darker. I looked back at him.

“I can guess,” I said. “Alicia was supposed to come to New York to negotiate with Bannister. Then she told Bannister he could pull a switch and save himself a hundred grand — this kept him from haggling over the price. When the time came, he gave her the money and sent her where the thieves were staying. She was supposed to trade the money for the briefcase, but instead of turning the case over to Bannister she held onto it.

“Then you came into the picture. You would get the money from the thieves and leave them for Bannister, who would get rid of them by killing them. It was neat — the thieves wouldn’t be looking for you because they’d be dead. And Bannister didn’t even know you were alive. You and Alicia would have the money and the jewels. Free and clear.”

I drew a breath. “But she didn’t play it that way, did she?”

“No,” he said quietly. “She did not.”

“She must have made a fresh switch of her own. She set up the deal without telling you about it.”

He managed a smile. “She was supposed to make the switch on a Wednesday. It took place a day early. I did not know about it until it was over.”

“She made the switch,” I said. “She turned over the money to the thieves and took the briefcase in exchange. Then she called Bannister and told him they wouldn’t play ball. He killed them and took his dough back. She lost the money that way — but she had the jewels all to herself now. And they were worth a hell of a lot more than a hundred grand.”

He nodded, agreeing.

“So you found out about the cross. And you went hunting for Alicia Arden. You knew her very well. You knew what to look for and where to look. You didn’t have Bannister’s organization but you had something more valuable in your knowledge. He never found her. You did.”

My pipe had been out for a while. I put it in a pocket. “So you broke in on her and killed her,” I went on. “You didn’t use a Beretta then. You had another gun and you used it to put a hole in her face. You killed her before you did anything else. She had crossed you and you were furious. Bannister was after her more as a matter of profit-and-loss than anything else. He might have killed her, but not unless he found the briefcase first. But you wanted her dead. That was more important than the briefcase.”

His face darkened. “For each man kills the thing he loves,” he quoted. “I was in love with her, Mr. London. A human fault. A reasonable man is a man who never loves. Reason goes only so far. I loved her. When she betrayed that love I killed her. Another common pattern.”

He took out another cigarette and lit it. I watched him smoke. I wondered what he was thinking now.

I said: “You had to be the killer. If Bannister had killed her he would have turned the place upside-down. But you’re a neat man. You wouldn’t confuse a search with a sacking. You must have cleaned as you searched.”

“It was easier that way.”

“And you left her there,” I said. “You couldn’t find the briefcase so you kept the apartment under as close surveillance as you could. There was a limit — you were alone, and you couldn’t be there all the time. You didn’t see my friend visit the apartment. But you saw me and thought I took the briefcase.”

He shook his head. “I thought you had it all along. I thought you were working with her.”

“Same thing.” I shrugged. “That’s what I got so far. Also that you were the one who took a potshot at me when I was heading up the stairs to my apartment. Just a warning, I guess. So I’d be in a mood to team up with you.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“Of course not. When you really tried to kill someone, you didn’t miss. I was a sitting duck there, wasn’t I? But that was just a warning. Last night you didn’t miss.”

“Last night?”

“I know about it,” I said. “I ran into the guy outside. He was in the lobby and he followed us when we left here. Maybe he thought I was a buddy of yours. Maybe he wanted to talk to me. I’ll never know.”