R. Jagger - A Way With Murder

The view was unlimited in all directions.

A crystal blue sky hung above.

Puffy clouds were building up over the mountains, hinting of rain and maybe even a serious storm.

At the south edge of the roof, Wilde trained binoculars on Dayton River’s boxcar setup, pulling the scene in good enough to make out someone’s face if there was a face there to make out.

Right now there wasn’t.

He handed them to Alabama.

She pointed them at the target and got them in focus.

“We good?” Wilde asked.

She nodded.

“We’re good.”

River wasn’t the onewho shot at Wilde last night. However, he was the one who initially took Alexa Blank out of the diner during her shift. That meant River was connected to the man from last night. With any luck, that man would show his face at River’s place today.

With even more luck, Alabama would see him.

She might recognize him.

If she didn’t, she could at least memorize his face.

Wilde looked around.

The roof had a two-foot-high parapet at the perimeter on all sides. In the middle was a rusty heating unit.

“Stay low,” he said. “Don’t get spotted.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “Don’t get spotted.”

“I heard you.”

“If you see him heading this way, even if it looks innocent like he’s just out for a jog or something, get the hell out of here.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let him trap you up here.”

“You worry too much.”

“I wish that was true. Are you sure you can do this?”

“Yes, stop pestering me.”

Wilde looked at his watch.

“I’ll be back at noon.”

“Bring food and water.”

He nodded.

“If the guy shows up, make your way over to the BNSF building,” he said. “Call me at the office with their phone. If I don’t answer, call a cab and get to the office. Wait for me there.”

“Okay.”

Day Four

July 24, 1952

Thursday Morning

From Stamp’s officeWaverly headed over to the Brown Palace and left a note for Jaden with the cigar-smoking peach at the reception desk: Meet me at the corner of 16 thand California as soon as you can safely break away.

An hour came and went.

Then more time passed.

It was almost noon before the woman showed up. Waverly watched her from a distance for two minutes to see if Bristol was on her tail. Then she swept in and ushered the woman down an alley, around to the back.

“I went to Stamp’s office this morning and told him that he was being used as a pawn to help Bristol find a witness,” she said. “His response was that Bristol actually came into town to get information as to who the real killer was. He’s going to feed that information to me to get me off his back.”

Jaden nodded.

“That actually makes sense,” she said.

Waverly leaned against the building.

“Have you ever been to Cleveland?”

Jaden wrinkled her face.

“No, why?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“What about Bristol? Has he ever been to Cleveland?”

Jaden shrugged.

“Not that I know of. He travels though, that’s part of his job. You know that.”

Waverly exhaled, deciding.

Then she said, “I wasn’t sure whether to tell you this or not, but I’m just going to do it. A woman named Bobbi Litton was killed in Cleveland in May of last year-same exact way, red dress, dropped off a roof, the whole nine yards. A friend of mine flew there to investigate. She hired a PI and he found that Bristol was in town at the time the woman was murdered.”

Jaden wrinkled her face.

“How could he know that?”

“The hotel Bristol stayed at still had the registration book.”

“Maybe it was another Bristol,” Jaden said. “It’s a common name.”

Waverly shook her head.

“It was him,” she said. “What I’m getting at is this. There are too many things coming together. You’re in danger. What you need to do is disappear, right now, not ten seconds from now, right now. Don’t go back to the hotel. Don’t see Bristol again, don’t talk to him, don’t tell him you’re leaving. Just vanish into the air.”

Jaden paced.

Her apprehension was palpable.

She wasn’t faking.

“I’m going to find out if he was in Cleveland like you say he was. If he was, I’ll do it-I’ll vanish-but first I need to know for sure.”

“I already know for sure,” Waverly said.

“Maybe someone signed in as him,” Jaden said. “Maybe someone else was setting him up.”

Waverly frowned.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

Jaden shrugged.

“All you have is a handwritten name,” she said. “You don’t have that name attached to a face. We don’t even know yet if the handwriting is his.” A beat then, “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll get something with his handwriting on it. I’ll probe around too. I’ll bring up Cleveland in an innocuous way. I’ll say my sister lives there or something. I’ll ask him if he’s ever been there. If he says yes, I’ll ask him when. If he says last May, then you’re right. I’ll find an excuse to get away from him and run like hell.”

“What if he says no?”

Jaden shrugged.

“Bristol has a meeting with his attorney at four o’clock,” she said. “I’ll find an excuse to not go with him. Meet me back here at four.”

“Okay but be careful.” A beat then, “Does he have any enemies? Someone who would want to frame him for murder or bring him down?”

Jaden receded in thought.

“There’s only one thing I know of,” she said. “A couple of years ago, before I knew him, he was bidding on a project for a ferry terminal in Hong Kong. Something went wrong on that project. Something out of the ordinary.”

“He has that file at his houseboat, hidden under a dresser.”

“He does?”

Waverly nodded.

“See if you can find out what went wrong.”

“Okay.”

“Concentrate on Cleveland, though. That’s the most important thing.”

Jaden nodded.

“Four o’clock.”

Day Four

July 24, 1952

Thursday Morning

Mid-morning,River noticed something in his peripheral vision, way off in the distance, on top of one of those abandoned buildings over in the old warehouse district. It was a motion up on the roof.

He didn’t stare at it.

Instead he headed inside, got behind the window covering and pulled the area in with a pair of binoculars. The parapet came into view, distinguishable from the side of the building, but nothing moved. It hadn’t been his imagination. He stayed with the scene, expecting Vaughn Spencer’s face to pop up.

A minute passed.

Then a head appeared.

The face belonged to a woman.

She looked familiar.

Where had he seen her before?

Was she working with Spencer?

She brought binoculars up to her eyes and shifted them around until she got her bearings on the boxcar. River dropped back, stepped outside and stretched. Then he picked up a rock and threw it at a pigeon. January came out of the adjacent boxcar zipping her pants.

“I need that asshole to come for us,” she said. “Sitting around and waiting for him is driving me nuts.”

“Don’t turn your head,” River said. “To the north there’s an old industrial area. A woman’s up there on one of the roofs watching us with binoculars.”

January started to turn.

“Don’t look,” River said.

She obeyed.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know but I’m going to find out.”