Stuart Woods - New York Dead

Before Harkness had finished speaking, Stone was dialing Frank Woodman’s home number.

“Hello?”

“Frank, it’s Stone; I must be brief – are you watching The Hi Barker Show , by any chance?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Is what Harkness just said true? Did he deliver those funds to you?”

“Yes, he did. They were disbursed as a part of Sasha’s estate.”

“Thanks.” He hung up and watched as the young woman walked onto the set and handed Barker the unfolded sheet of paper. Last chance.

Barker read the paper, and his eyebrows shot up. “Barron,” he said, “I have just received a news bulletin, and I wonder if you would like to modify any of your statements in the light of this.” He read from the paper. “The New York City Police Department has just announced that Sasha Nijinsky has been found in a downtown Manhattan loft, alive and well.’ That’s all it says. What is your response?”

Barron Harkness smiled. “Why, that’s wonderful news! Is there anything about where she’s been?”

“No, but clearly Sasha will now be able to identify the person who threw her from that balcony to the street.”

Stone missed Harkness’s response to this, because his attention had been caught by a movement near the set. Cary Hilliard had stood up. Her eyes as wide as those of a frightened deer, she stood still for a moment, then walked quickly across the set, directly in front of the cameras. Barker and Harkness, distracted by the movement, both turned and watched her. The director pushed a button, and the show’s theme music came up again.

The announcer spoke up. “This has been the first Hi Barker Show . Tune in next Sunday night when Hi’s guest will be…”

Stone burst out of the control room and ran for the elevators. Cary was banging on the button as he approached, and, when she saw him, she bolted.

“ Cary!” he shouted down the length of the hallway. “Stop! Wait!”

She ducked down another corridor, out of his sight. He followed and was met with an expanse of closed doors. He began trying them.

A dozen doors down the hall, one was unlocked. He opened it and heard the clang of footsteps on fire stairs. He stopped for a moment and leaned against the wall. The memory of another set of steel stairs in another building flooded back to him. Now he knew whose footsteps those had been.

He started down, only to realize that the sound of footsteps was coming from above. He reversed his direction and followed the sound.

One floor up, the exit door stood open, and he found himself on a gravel roof. A gust of wind nearly knocked him off his feet. He grabbed at a ventilator pipe and held on. The view was all the more spectacular because there was nothing between him and the lights of the city but blustery air. Twenty feet away, only the modern building’s low railing separated him from the lights. He looked around and saw a flash of mink coat disappear behind an air-conditioning unit. He followed.

He came around the unit, and she stood perhaps thirty feet from him, her feet spread in something like a fighting stance, leaning against the wind. She was no more than six feet from the low railing. Stone began walking toward her.

“Stop, Stone,” she said. “Stop right there, or I’ll jump.”

He stopped, but he had already covered twenty feet; only ten separated them.

“You made me believe you were protecting him, but all along you were protecting yourself, weren’t you? Right from the very beginning,” he shouted over the wind.

“No,” she said.

“You wanted to be with me so you would know what I knew about Sasha’s case, that’s all.”

“No, Stone,” she said. “I loved you from the start. I love you now, believe me. Get me out of this, and I’m yours. Barron can go to hell. Just get me out of this, and I’ll make your life wonderful. Really, I will.”

“You were sleeping with Sasha, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but it meant nothing. It was just another erotic experience, don’t you see?”

It was coming together for him now. “You were fucking Sasha, and so was Harkness. Harkness wanted her, not you, didn’t he?”

“We were all fucking each other, sometimes all at once,” she said. “She wanted him – not because she loved him, but because she could destroy him if she was married to him. She only wanted to cut off his balls, and then the evening news would have been all hers.”

“And you, what did you want?” He edged a little closer.

She backed up a couple of steps. The edge was nearer now. The wind was gusting, and she leaned into it for a moment. “Well, you were useless, weren’t you?” She spat. “You wouldn’t free yourself of that dead-end job, so that you could get ahead. Barron was simply the best alternative. I didn’t love him, though; I loved you. Why do you think I kept seeing you?”

“You didn’t love me any more than you loved Barron or Sasha, Cary.” He stepped closer; he could grab her now. He put a foot forward but kept his weight on the rear one. He reached out and snaked a hand around her waist.

There was a howl from behind him, and the wind struck his back. Involuntarily, his weight shifted onto the forward foot, and then to the toe. He let go of Cary. Slowly waving his arms for balance, he fell toward her, still pushed by the wind. Cary stepped instinctively back from him, and her calf struck the railing. In desperation, she reached out and grabbed at his coat lapel. Then they both toppled over the railing, out into the night. Sixty-five stories of thin air welcomed them.

Stone stopped short; something had his ankle. He ignored it, watched Cary slip from him and fall, facing him, revealed by flashes from lighted windows, all the way down until she struck the top of what looked like a Yellow cab.

Chunks of gravel were spilling from the top of the building now, falling past Stone to the street. Whoever had him was slipping over the side with him. He’ll let go, Stone thought, and I’ll join her. Then he stopped moving.

There was a chorus of grunts and muffled shouts from above, and, inch by inch, he was hauled back to the top of the building, scraping his shin quite badly. When he was back on top, lying with his cheek pressed gratefully to the gravel, he could see Dino hanging on to his ankle, and Barron Harkness and Hi Barker hanging on to Dino. They let go of each other reluctantly.

Stone crawled over to a ventilator and sat down with his back to it. “Thanks, Dino,” he was finally able to say. “You did it again.”

“And it’s the first time you ever thanked me for it,” Dino puffed.

“I don’t believe any of this,” Hi Barker said to nobody in particular. “But it’s going to make one hell of a story.”

Only Barron Harkness seemed to give a thought to Cary. “She’s gone,” he said absently. “My wife is gone.”

Dino was the first to answer him. “Get used to it, pal.” He snorted. “She’s New York Dead.”

Stone sat with his client and watched the jury file back into the courtroom. He had a sinking feeling about this. He didn’t like his client much, and he wasn’t sure the man was innocent. He was afraid the jury didn’t share his indecision.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” Judge O’Neal asked.

Stone thought she was looking particularly attractive today, as much as she could in judicial robes.

The foreman stood. “We have, Your Honor,” he replied. “The foreman will hand the verdict to the clerk.”

The clerk received the verdict, read it to himself, then handed it to Judge O’Neal. She read it and handed it back to him.

“The defendant will rise and look upon the jury; the jury will look upon the defendant.”