Дэвид Балдаччи - A Gambling Man [calibre]

“You think he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Maybe. Let’s hit the road before Carl Pickett hits us.”

“Where are we going?”

“I think it’s time to check in with our client.”

Chapter 61

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” snarled Steve Prichard, the front-desk sergeant. He apparently had the graveyard shift tonight and was not happy about it.

“We’re here to see our client,” said Dash calmly.

“Your client ?”

“Douglas Kemper. I understand he was booked for a double homicide. I presume an alleged murderer would not be able to post bail.”

“He’s here, but you can’t see him.”

“How many years you got to your pension, Steve?”

“Five, why?” growled Prichard.

“Because you’re never going to make it with that attitude.”

A pulse beat in the blue vein at the cop’s temple. “You threatening me?”

“No, just stating a fact. Rogers versus California , 1934. Cops denied a suspect seeing his attorneys and private investigators. All charges were dropped, a writ of habeus corpus was issued by the court, and the suspect walked free. And the cop who did the denying was busted down to riding in a prowler for a month. Then, for good measure, they canned his ass seven months before his full ride kicked in. You want to go down that road, Stevie boy, it’s okay by me.” He glanced at Archer. “Let’s go wake up Kemper’s lawyer and get the lawsuit filed before this lug uses what little brain he has and comes to his senses.”

“You ain’t bullshitting me?” Prichard barked.

“Look it up, Steve. You can read, can’t you?”

Prichard glanced at Archer and then grabbed a set of keys off a hook.

He pointed a big finger at Dash. “Just one night I hope to run into your fat ass all alone on a dark street.”

“Why, Steve, you ain’t one of them guys that like guys, are you?”

Prichard’s face flushed, but before he could say anything Dash continued, “Our client? Before I really get mean.”

Prichard led them back to the holding cells and over to the cage containing Kemper. He was seated on a metal bench, his back to the wall and his collar and necktie still undone. His very expensive suit jacket rested on the bench next to him. He had a shiner on one eye and some hardened blood on his lip.

As Prichard unlocked the door, Dash said, “Who roughed him up? You?”

“He tripped and hit that handsome puss of his on the wall,” said Prichard with a grin.

“How is it that everybody who gets arrested in this town suddenly forgets how to walk?” Dash eyed Prichard and the ring of keys. “Call Ernie in here.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not letting you lock us in there and then forget you did.”

“I don’t know if he’s here.”

“He’s here. And I know Pickett’s not.”

Prichard left and came back with Prettyman, who said, “Willie, I’m sorry—”

“I know. Now take the keys from Steve and sit down with us and maybe you’ll learn something along with me and Archer.” After Prichard left, they all sat across from Kemper.

“Which one did that?” asked Dash, pointing to his injuries.

“Does it matter?”

“Probably not. Heads-up for you, the elevator guy at my building named Earl had his throat cut and Doctor Myron O’Donnell has a third eye. I’m thinking O’Donnell was the target though they clumsily tried to make it look like a narcotics steal.”

Kemper sat up straight, looking scared. “What the hell is going on?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

Archer interjected, “You told us that O’Donnell had performed a recent surgery on your wife for appendicitis?”

“That’s right.”

“And you said her mother and father had used O’Donnell as well?” added Dash.

“Yes. Eleanor caught her arm in a piece of machinery at the shop where she kept her plane. She lost a lot of blood, but O’Donnell fixed her right up, good as new. And Sawyer had to have an operation after a car accident years ago.”

Dash said. “Now, whose idea was it for you to run for mayor?”

“It was my idea.”

“Armstrong didn’t put you up to it?”

“Look, I know everyone thinks I’m his lapdog, but the fact is, I don’t need help from him. When I told him I was running, he raised no objection, but I’m funding the campaign myself. He hasn’t put up one dime, nor would I take it if he offered.”

“You led us to think that he was supporting you,” said Archer.

“Did I? Well, maybe I did. But he’s not.”

“Why did you come to me to look into this blackmail scheme?”

“I asked my lawyer. He knew about you.”

“And does your lawyer know your father-in-law?”

“Well, yes. Sawyer recommended the guy to me. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Your wife called Armstrong tonight,” explained Archer. “He showed right up.”

“I bet he did,” Kemper muttered.

“Whenever father and daughter are together she becomes a different person. And not in a good way.”

Kemper seemed to appraise Archer in a new light. “You just described my marriage.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair. “I love Beth. From the moment I saw her, I was nuts about the woman. I loved her mother, too. Eleanor was a dynamo and Beth took after her.” He paused again. “That was when Sawyer wasn’t around. When he was, Beth just clammed up, became a totally different person, like you said. She’d defer to him on all subjects. Took his side against me. It made me mad. It enraged me, in fact.”

“And how did you manifest that rage, Mr. Kemper?” said Dash.

“I never touched a hair on her head and I never would. But…but I started going out on my own, pretended to play the field, acted like some sort of sap you’d see in the movies. Slept in separate rooms. I…I guess part of me thought it would make Beth jealous. The only thing it did was—”

“—it drew her to Benjamin Smalls,” said Archer. “They were having an affair, weren’t they? Ironic, since you were the one playing the ladies’ man, but had remained faithful.”

“I don’t blame Beth for what she did. I feel like I drove her to it. And I know Sawyer was in the background feeding her all sorts of lies about me, trying to destroy our marriage. And he intimated to me that Beth was sleeping with our chauffeur, Adam Stover. I didn’t want to believe it, but it made me suspicious.”

“Yeah, we met handsome muscle boy. He’s definitely not your wife’s type. But you made Armstrong’s job easy, you dope,” pointed out Dash.

“But I never did anything with the woman who was killed. And I sure as hell would never have murdered Wilson.” He paused and looked at Archer. “Why do you know about the island? What the hell would anyone do with it?”

“Well, I think your father-in-law is planning to build a huge casino complex on it,” answered Dash.

Prettyman interjected, “You can’t have a casino in California, Willie.”

“That chunk of rock ain’t part of California,” retorted Dash before turning to Kemper. “Your country club that has the marina and big dock. Does Armstrong have an ownership interest in that?”

“Yes. It was my first big project. I needed his backing.”

“What’s the ownership split?”

“Fifty-fifty.”

“Not to be blunt, but what happens to it if you get gassed in the chamber at San Quentin?” said Dash.

Kemper paled. “I…Beth gets everything that I own.”

“Meaning, realistically, Armstrong will own it all.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Beth just can’t seem to say no to him.”

Archer said, “The day Eleanor Armstrong died in that plane crash, Beth was supposed to go up with her, but instead she went to a luncheon that you had arranged. How did that come to pass?”