Дэвид Балдаччи - A Gambling Man

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Evoking the golden age of crime, and for fans of Raymond Chandler and Agatha Christie, comes A Gambling Man, from one of the world’s bestselling thriller writers, David Baldacci.
A lucky roll of the dice
California, 1949. Aloysius Archer is on his way to start a new job with a renowned Private Investigator in Bay Town. Feeling lucky, he stops off at a casino in Reno, where he meets an aspiring actress, Liberty Callahan. Together, they head west on a journey filled with danger and surprises — because Archer isn’t the only one with a secretive past.
A risk worth taking
Arriving in a town rife with corruption, Archer is tasked with finding out who is doing everything they can to disrupt the appointment of a top official. Then two seemingly unconnected people are murdered at a burlesque club. In a tight-lipped community, Archer must dig deep to reveal the connection between the victims.
All bets are off
As the final perilous showdown unfurls, Archer will need all of his skills to decipher the truth from the lies and finally, to prove she’s a star in the making, will Liberty have her moment in the spotlight?

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“I’m sure.”

She stopped and looked at him. “What you must think of me.”

“You did it for the money because you were caught between a rock and a hard place. A guy does it, he’s smart like a fox because he’s being paid to have fun. A woman does the same thing, and she’s judged for it. I never really got that myself. I’m not judging you, Wilma. I don’t have the right.”

She perched next to him again. “Where do they make guys like you, Archer? I’d like to buy a dozen.”

“Did the note tell you which room to go to last night?”

“Yes. They said it was empty, would be unlocked, and there’d be nobody to bother us.”

“Do you know that right next door is where Ruby Fraser was found?”

“Oh my God!” She gripped his arm. “Look, Archer, I swear that he was alive when I left him. He was asleep, sawing logs. I swear.”

“I know he was, Wilma.”

She looked relieved but then gazed at him suspiciously. “You gathered all that from listening at the keyhole?”

“I trained under some of the best keyhole listeners in the business.”

“So what do I do now?”

“I’d take you down to the police station where you could make a statement, only I don’t trust Chief Pickett.”

“Do you really think I’m in danger?”

“Yes. Whoever sent you the note used you to set up Sheen. But what I don’t get is how did they know he’d fall asleep? He might have left the room with you.”

Darling looked puzzled. “When we were going up to the room he was yawning.”

Archer snapped his fingers. “Somebody slipped him a mickey. Did he say where he was before he met up with you?”

“Yeah, he was having a drink in the bar.”

“Did he say who with?”

“No, he didn’t. Maybe it was Kemper. You said he was there last night, too.”

“Other people must have seen you and Sheen together. I’m surprised the cops haven’t been to see you.”

“They probably will be. And then what do I tell them? They’ll never believe my story. They’ll think I killed him. Shit.” She looked as miserable as anyone Archer had ever seen.

“We’ll figure this out, Wilma. Now, there aren’t a lot of people who could come up with a thousand bucks, so that narrows the list of suspects.”

She looked up. “But why get Wilson out of the way? What’s the big deal?”

“He’s Kemper’s campaign manager. It might hurt his election chances.”

“But if they really wanted to do that, why not just bump Kemper off? Then it’s guaranteed he doesn’t win.”

“How long have you worked for Kemper?”

“Seven years. There aren’t many office jobs for a gal around here that don’t involve fetching dry cleaning and making coffee. I started out where the other gals are now and worked my way up. It might not sound like much to you, but it means a lot to me.”

“So who doesn’t want Kemper to be mayor?”

“Anybody pulling for Alfred Drake, I guess.”

“Why is he running for mayor?”

She shrugged. “He was on the town council, so he has some experience.”

“I’ve heard that Drake might have some serious money men behind him. Vegas types, even mobsters. You think that’s possible?”

“Hell, Archer, in this world anything is possible.”

Archer said, “Kemper closed the office. And it’s Friday, so you have the weekend, too. Can you go to some place where you can be safe?”

She puffed nervously on her cigarette. “I used to drive down to Ventura and stay at a place on the water. I could go there.”

“Then do it. Is that your brown coupe out there?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, why don’t you pack and leave now? And give me the address just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“Just in case I have to come and rescue you.”

“Archer, this is serious. Stop joking around.”

“I’m being dead serious, Wilma. And that neat little Derringer you keep in your purse? Be sure to take it with you.”

Chapter 52

Archer’s next stop was the town library. He hadn’t been to a library in a while, but whenever he had gone, it had been for a good reason. In the past, it was just about choosing a good book to read. Now, it was all about finding information that might help solve two murders.

He spoke with the woman at the front desk. She was elderly with a granny hump, and also knowledgeable and enthusiastic. She guided Archer to a shelf and helped him find what he needed. He sat down with the books that dealt with California law and started to read. He was there for seven hours. He made notes of everything and put the items back, thanked the librarian, and left. His next stop was the town hall, which he discovered was located on Sawyer Avenue, of course.

It was a three-story stone-and-stucco building with three faux bell towers, the ubiquitous red tile roof, and thick arched doorways. He made his way to the clerk’s office, where a dour woman in her forties turned out to be very helpful once he showed her his PI license. She actually seemed excited to be assisting in a “very private investigation.” She got him the records and ledger books that he asked for, though he had only a vague idea of what he was looking for.

Archer sat for another hour and went through each of the items methodically, tracking things down and having, in turn, to request other files. He made copious notes and thought about what he had found. When he was done he carried everything back up to her and thanked her for her help.

“Did you get your answers?”

“Along with more questions, yes.”

“Well, isn’t that always the case?”

Archer headed to the waterfront, but he didn’t go back to the harbormaster’s shack. He went to the rental boat man instead, who Archer had found out on his first visit there was named Reggie McKenzie. He asked Archer how his ride out had been.

“A little bumpy coming back in, but that boat was solid as a rock.”

McKenzie smiled and pulled on the briarwood pipe clenched between his teeth. “Chris-Craft knows how to build a boat, that’s for certain. Hell, I’d take that vessel pretty much anywhere without a worry in my head.”

Archer gazed at the water. “About three miles out I nearly ran into a chunk of rock; it wasn’t on the navigation map.”

McKenzie shook his head, looking angry. “How many times have I said that to folks around here, eh?”

“What’s the deal with it?”

“Navy thing. Not many know about it because not many go out there.”

“I got pretty close but I didn’t see anyone or anything on it.”

“That’s right. Navy moved out about, oh, six months ago. War’s long over, what they were doing there is over, too, I imagine.”

“I noted that there was a big dock on the island. Handle a destroyer easy.”

“You’re right about that.” McKenzie took his pipe out and pointed the bowl out toward the sea. “There was a stretch of land that was right at the water line. Hazard to boats, I can tell you that. Had to be marked and all. Well, anyway, the Navy shipped in more dirt and rock and cement than you’d ever seen, mister. Then they built on what was out there and raised it way above the water. Solid as the land we’re standing on right now and high enough to where you don’t have to worry about flooding ’less you get a typhoon or such out there. I sat here and watched the cargo ships heading out every day. But back then the military did some extraordinary things. Heard they built that there Pentagon in less than two years.”

“But what was the point? I thought they took over all the Channel Islands.”

“I’ll tell you what I heard from some of the military folks coming through here.” He settled back in his seat and pulled up his oilskin coat against the brisk breeze blowing in off the water as Archer leaned back against the doorjamb. “Now, back in forty-two, I think it was, a Jap sub come right up to shore around here and opened fire with its deck gun and torpedoes. Did quite a bit of damage. Found out later another sub did the same thing off the coast of Santa Barbara near the Ellwood Oil Fields. Hit some fuel tanks and other such things. Now, nobody was killed, thank God, but it scared the hell out of everybody.” McKenzie took a moment to restuff and relight his pipe. “Anyway, it took so long for the Navy to get out there them Jap subs were long gone. See, Anacapa Island was the closest and it was still too durn far away. So the Navy got its marching orders. They searched for and found that bit of land just at the waterline barely three miles out and built what they called a ‘rapid response’ site on it. They had docks big enough for PT boats and even destroyers, like you said, and they also put radar out there and laid minefields for them subs, and had observation towers and God knows what else. They even had a runway there to land planes. And I saw them ship out a big gun, too.”

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