David Baldacci - Hour Game

He raised his glass. "A toast to my two good friends." They drank to that, and then Harry added after eyeing Michelle, "And really, I believe another toast is in order." He lifted his glass once more. "To one of the most lovely women I've ever encountered. Michelle, you look extraordinarily beautiful tonight."

Michelle smiled and glanced at King. "Now, if I could only cook."

King started to say something but seemed to think better of it and hastily took a sip of his cocktail.

"What an incredibly interesting place," said Michelle as she looked around at the built-in, worm-eaten wooden shelves stuffed with what looked to be ancient tomes.

Harry's gaze followed hers around the library. "Of course it's haunted, as it should be for a place that saw the light of the eighteenth century."

"Haunted?" said Michelle.

"Oh, yes. I've seen numerous apparitions over the years. Several I consider to be regulars. Since my return here, I've felt a real duty to get to know them, considering I'll be joining them in the not-all-too-distant future."

"You've got a long time left, Harry," commented King.

"What would we do without you?" said Michelle, tapping her whiskey glass against Harry's tumbler of bourbon.

"Even before the other branch of the Lee family was building its fortress at Stratford Hall, my line was laying the brick and mortar for this." Harry checked his pocket watch. "Calpurnia serves promptly at seven-thirty. That gives us a little time to talk before the meal, although I'm sure I can guess our dinner topic."

"Calpurnia?" asked Michelle.

"Calpurnia is my cook and housekeeper; a delightful lady who's been with me for years. I discovered her when I was serving on the supreme court in Richmond, and she graciously agreed to return with me here. I'd be utterly lost without Calpurnia."

He took a sip of his bourbon, set down his glass and put his hands together, his features now very serious.

"We must solve this thing, and soon, you know. It's not like people are going to stop being killed simply because we wish it."

"I know," said King. He stood and faced them, his back to the fire. "I've been giving this a lot of thought, having had not much else to do while recovering from that deep draft I took of carbon monoxide. Now, there've been eight deaths thus far." He held up the fingers on one of his hands. "But I want to talk about only five, at least at first. And I want to begin with Rhonda Tyler."

"The dancer," said Harry.

"The prostitute."

"You're sure?" said Michelle.

"I checked with Lulu. Tyler was one of the ones who opted for the ‘extra pay' structure."

"What's that?" asked Harry curiously.

"A little sideline of the Aphrodisiac; it's since been shut down," said King vaguely.

Harry nodded in a knowing way. "I always suspected that was happening. I mean, you can't let men watch naked girls, ply them with alcohol and not expect some to want more than to merely play voyeur."

"Exactly. So Rhonda was a prostitute. Was that why she was killed?"

Michelle ventured an answer. "Well, prostitutes are probably the number one victim pool of serial killers."

"Right again. So are we simply dealing with an ‘ordinary' serial killer who opted to start with this ‘classic' victim pool, or is there something else going on?"

"What do you mean, Sean?" asked Harry.

"I mean, was Tyler a symbol or was her death more personal?"

"How can we answer that with the little we know?" said Michelle.

"Let me answer a question with a question. Could Bobby Battle have enjoyed the services of Rhonda Tyler? She was at the Aphrodisiac before Bobby had his stroke. He was known to frequent the place, although Lulu was pretty vague on the last time she'd seen him there."

"I hadn't considered that angle," said Harry quietly. "But let's say he did sleep with her. Why would that make her a target for our killer along with at least four other people who seem to have no connection?"

"What if some of the other victims did have connections to Battle?"

"Such as?"

Michelle answered, "Sean thinks Steve Canney was Bobby's illegitimate son. His mother had worked for Battle and probably gotten pregnant by him, and we think Roger Canney was blackmailing Bobby. We also think Bobby may have been involved in Mrs. Canney's death three and a half years ago, and that's when the blackmail started."

"My God!" exclaimed Harry.

"But, Sean," said Michelle, "I've been thinking about this too. Bobby openly had affairs with women, slept with prostitutes. If what you say is true, why would he care if the truth came out about an illegitimate son? Why would he allow himself to be blackmailed over a sexual encounter?"

"I think I can answer that," said Harry. "Just about the time period you're talking about Bobby was in the middle of selling his company. Many local lawyers I knew were working on the deal on Battle 's behalf, so I heard all the war stories about the negotiations. The buyer was a large multinational corporation with a sterling reputation. And Bobby was the very public face of his company."

"So news of an illegitimate son wouldn't have helped the negotiations," said King.

"Precisely. As a matter of fact, the deal did go through and made Bobby more money than he could possibly have spent in several lifetimes. It was probably a good thing."

"Why do you say that?" asked King.

" Battle had always been eccentric, but for some years he was growing more and more bizarre in his behavior. Violent mood swings, bouts of depression followed by times of unrealistic euphoria. And his mind wasn't what it was. One of the most brilliant engineers and businessmen of his day, he was forgetting names and important items. I really wasn't surprised about the stroke. In fact, I suspected he suffered numerous minor ones previously that had affected his mind. But we're getting far afield from the topic of blackmail." Harry turned to King. "Sorry for the detour."

"No, we need all the information we can get. The timing of the sale of Bobby's company makes me believe it was only Roger Canney who had the blackmail plan. One would think that Mrs. Canney would know who the father of her son was, or at least that Bobby could have been the father. Steven Canney was seventeen when he died. If she'd wanted to come forward and make a claim, she wouldn't have waited all those years. It's not like Bobby wasn't rich seventeen years ago too."

Harry picked up this line of reasoning. "But Roger Canney might have known Steve wasn't his biological son and been waiting for his wife to die before putting the screws to Bobby. Perhaps he waited because his wife wouldn't have gone along. He certainly would have known of the potential sale of the man's company. That was publicly disclosed."

"Or maybe," said Michelle, "Roger Canney didn't want to wait for his wife to die ‘naturally,' so he sped up the process by running her off the road, freeing him to begin his blackmail scheme."

"But it was Bobby's car that was damaged right around the time of her death," King said. "So it seems far more likely that Bobby killed her."

"I'm just pointing out that Roger Canney might've had a motive to kill her too," Michelle replied.

King looked at her admiringly. "That's a good point, Michelle. I hadn't really considered that."

"So where does that leave us?" she wanted to know.

The bell for dinner interrupted them.

"I've told Calpurnia that a dinner bell is quite old-fashioned, but she claims my hearing's not what it was, and it's the only way she can get my attention without trudging all over the house to find me. Shall we?"

SEAN HAD UNCORKED BOTH bottles of wine upon his arrival so that they could properly breathe before dinner. At the table he poured out the first one. "This is a La Croix de Peyrolie out of Lussac-St-Emilion."