by Amanda Quick
“Raina thinks she’s got a lead on the code breaker who used to work for me in the old days,” Luther said after a while. “If the poems in Smith’s notebook turn out to be encrypted, I’m going to have to make a decision.”
“About whether to notify Grainger or the FBI?”
“Or both.”
“If the poems are in code and if you get them deciphered, you may have the information you need to make that decision,” Matthias said.
“Maybe.” Luther paused. “After Grainger calmed down he said something else.”
“What?”
“He asked if I would be willing to undertake additional unofficial investigations for him in the future. Evidently it has occurred to him that he does not have a network of reliable agents stationed out here on the West Coast.”
“How insightful. Was that the question you were responding to when you said I’ll think about it?”
“Yes.”
“Will you do it? Take care of his West Coast problems?” Matthias said.
“Probably, but only on a case-by-case basis. I will also make it clear that I don’t work for him. I’m an independent contractor.”
“Typical mob boss response. It looks like business will be picking up for Failure Analysis, Incorporated. Congratulations.”
“I’m going to have to recruit some staff,” Luther said. “How do you feel about the title ‘director of field operations’?”
Matthias shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m not management material, Luther. I don’t like to take orders, and I don’t like to be responsible for giving them to others. I prefer to be an independent contractor, too.”
Luther nodded, unsurprised. “Thought you might feel that way. I’m fine with your status as a contractor. Are you going to stay here in Burning Cove?”
“That’s my new plan.”
“Can I assume Miss Vaughn is a major part of that plan?”
“She’s the reason that there actually is a plan.”
“You will be interested to know that Raina called just before you arrived. She heard from a reporter who covered the Abbotsville story six months ago. He told her he talked to a couple of transients who were camping just outside of town that night. They told him they saw a car driving away from the circus grounds in the early-morning hours. They said the vehicle was going hell-for-leather. The time fits with Miss Vaughn’s version of events, but those facts never made it into the police report.”
“The other one,” Matthias said. He tightened one hand into a fist. “The one who wanted to watch.”
“I think so. But you trusted her all along, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Luther smiled. “I can’t quite see you as an innkeeper, but—”
“The Hidden Beach is Amalie’s business,” Matthias said. “I’m going to start a research and development firm specializing in communications technology. I think there’s a future in that line.”
“Well, now,” Luther said softly.
He sounded pleased. Maybe a little too pleased.
“What?” Matthias asked.
“A small R and D firm that specializes in communications technology sounds like an ideal cover for one of my independent contractors.”
“It’s not a cover,” Matthias said. “It’s going to be a real business. At least, I’m going to try to make it into a real business. The headquarters will be here in Burning Cove.”
“Even better,” Luther said. “The best covers are always grounded in reality.”
Matthias stopped trying to fight off the cold sensation. “I have to make a phone call.”
Luther gestured toward the telephone on his desk. “Help yourself.”
Chapter 58
Amalie could not breathe. Panic roiled her senses. She fought it with the only thing she had that was stronger than fear—rage.
She reached out and seized the necklace with one hand. She started to turn, intending to pick up the phone on the front desk.
There was movement behind her. The tip of the knife against her throat stopped her.
“Put the necklace on, Princess. You’re going to fly for me.”
The threat was followed by a shrill titter of a giggle.
“You’re the one who was watching that night,” Amalie said.
“Yes, I was watching. I saw you murder my partner. Put on the necklace.”
She slipped the necklace over her head.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“You can call me Eugene. Are the keys in your car?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Eugene said. He grabbed the wire necklace from behind and yanked it tight against her throat. He shifted the point of the blade to the back of her neck. “We’re going to walk outside and get into your car. You’re going to drive. You will live just as long as you do what I tell you. Understand, bitch?”
The necklace was very tight around her throat, just as it had been the night Harding had forced her to climb the trapeze ladder. She knew then that the black glass beads were strung with wire. If she tried to run, the necklace would become a garrote.
“I understand,” she said.
The phone rang, shattering the oppressive silence.
“Forget it,” Eugene ordered.
“If I don’t answer it, my aunt will wake up and come downstairs to see what’s wrong.”
Eugene hesitated. Clearly he had not anticipated the problem.
“Answer it,” he said. “Make it quick. If you give whoever is on the other line so much as a hint of what’s going on here, you’re dead. Got that?”
“Yes.”
Amalie picked up the phone.
“Hidden Beach Inn,” she said.
“Amalie?” Matthias’s voice was rough with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said. “Everything is fine. Look, I’ve got to run. I need to go back to the grocery store. I forgot a few things. I’ll see you later.”
“Sure,” he said. “Later.”
She hung up the phone. Eugene jerked the necklace.
“Now we’re going to take a drive,” he said.
She walked outside, hoping that she would get a chance to run when Eugene was negotiating the business of getting both of them into the Hudson. She had put the top down that morning. With luck she would have some room to maneuver.
But Eugene had evidently planned that aspect of the situation in advance.
“Get in on the passenger side,” he said.
She opened the door, scrambled over the gearshift, and got behind the wheel. All the while the long black necklace dug into her throat. Eugene settled into the passenger seat and closed the door, never once losing his grip on the beaded garrote.
“Drive,” he said.
She turned the key in the ignition and put the Hudson in gear.
“Where?” she asked.
“Go down to that road that runs along the top of the cliffs and turn right,” Eugene said, snickering. “I saw a nice cove not far from here. We’ll find out if you really can fly.”
Amalie drove sedately out of the driveway and turned right on Cliff Road. She knew this road, she thought. She had driven it frequently since arriving in Burning Cove. She changed gears and drove faster.
“Slow down, you stupid woman,” Eugene said.
Amalie obligingly braked as she went into a turn but when she drove out she put more weight on the accelerator. Eugene yanked hard on the black necklace.
“Stop that,” he ordered.
“Why should I?” she asked. “I’m going to die anyway. Might as well take you with me.”
She drove faster.
“Slow down,” Eugene shouted.
He tightened the necklace and leaned toward her so that he could press the point of the knife into her side. There wa
s a sharp, lancing pain. She caught her breath and kept her foot on the accelerator.
“Do that again and I’ll probably lose control of the car,” she shouted, raising her voice above the wind.
“Slow down or I’ll kill you,” Eugene screamed.
There was panic in his voice.
“Let go of the necklace and throw the knife out of the car and maybe I’ll stop,” she said.
The Hudson’s wheels shrieked as she drove out of the next turn.
Eugene sat back quickly, pulling the knife away from her side. “You’re crazy. Fucking insane.”
“I used to work without a net, remember? Of course I’m crazy. There’s a steep cliff up ahead right around the next curve. We’re going over the edge together. We’ll find out which one of us can really fly.”
“Stop.”
“Let go of the necklace. Get rid of the knife.”
She roared into the curve. The Hudson’s tires shrieked in protest.
Eugene screamed and released the necklace.
“Stop the car,” he yelled. “Stop.”
“The knife,” Amalie shouted.
He tossed the knife out of the car.
“Stop,” he pleaded. “You have to stop now. We’re going to die.”
He started to scream and he kept on screaming. Amalie found the sound extremely gratifying.
The Hudson came out of the curve very fast. She slammed on the brakes. The car went into a skid.
She remembered to steer into it but the maneuver brought the vehicle perilously close to the edge of the road on the cliff above the crashing surf.
The Hudson finally slammed to a stop inches from the sheer drop. Amalie had been braced for the abrupt halt but even so, she barely avoided being thrown against the steering wheel.
Eugene was flung forward. He hit the dashboard and bounced back. When he turned toward Amalie, she saw a bloody mask of a face.
The Hudson rocked forward a little. The hood dipped down.
Eugene, evidently too dazed and enraged to realize what was happening, started screaming again.
Amalie did not dare get out on her side of the car. The Hudson’s door was heavy. The sudden shift in weight might be enough to send the vehicle plummeting over the edge.
She twisted her legs out from under the steering wheel and got to her feet on the seat in a single, sleek movement. She vaulted over the rear of the Hudson and landed lightly on the ground behind the trunk.
The Hudson groaned.
She turned in time to see the car rock forward another couple of degrees.
The shock and horror on Eugene’s bloody face made it clear that he had finally registered the full magnitude of his disastrous situation. He was frozen in panic, one leg over the back of the seat.
He had probably intended to follow her to safety but it was obvious that he had lost his nerve. He was afraid that any movement might send the Hudson over the edge.
The howl of a powerful car traveling at great speed boomed in the distance.
Eugene gazed at Amalie with an imploring look. “Help me.”
“Give me one good reason,” Amalie said.
“You gotta help me. You can’t let me die like this.”
“Who knows? Maybe you’ll discover that you can fly.”
“You can’t do this to me, you crazy bitch.”
“Watch me.”
The big maroon Packard screamed to a halt a short distance away. Matthias leaped out from behind the wheel. He was not alone. Luther bolted out of the passenger side of the vehicle. Both men ran forward, taking in the situation in an instant.
“Help me,” Eugene screamed. “You gotta save me. That crazy bitch tried to kill me just like she did Marcus. Get me out of this car before it goes over the edge.”
Luther had his gun in his hand. He went forward at an unhurried pace.
“Let me think about this,” he said.
Eugene wailed.
Matthias hurried toward Amalie.
“Are you all right?” he asked urgently. Then his eyes narrowed. “You’re bleeding.”
Amalie looked down at her side and was surprised to see the blood that had soaked her blouse. More blood dripped from the side of her neck where the necklace had cut into her. She was suddenly aware of the pain.
“He cut me,” she said. “That bastard. I don’t think it’s too deep, but it hurts.”
It wasn’t just the pain that was so annoying, she realized. She was starting to feel weird.
Matthias yanked her blouse out of the waistband of her trousers and examined the wound.
“How bad is it?” Luther asked.
“Hard to tell,” Matthias said. He loosened his tie and started to unfasten his shirt. “The cuts on her neck aren’t bad but there’s a lot of blood from where he stabbed her in the side.”
“Giggles changed his mind about stabbing me to death because I scared the living daylights out of him with my driving,” Amalie confided. “You should have seen his face when I told him we were both going to fly.”
“Nice work,” Matthias said.
“I thought so. One of my more inspired performances.”
“Don’t get any ideas about going back into show business,” Matthias said. He bundled the shirt into a makeshift bandage and pressed it to her side. “Hold it there.” She did as instructed while he wrapped his tie around her waist to secure the bandage. By the time he was finished she was starting to wonder if she might faint. The light-headed sensation was getting worse.
He scooped her up in his arms and headed toward the Packard.
“After you get her to the hospital, send Detective Brandon out here to pick me up,” Luther said.
“Right,” Matthias said.
“What about me?” Eugene yelped.
“Whether or not you’re still here or at the bottom of the cliff when the police arrive depends on how helpful you are when it comes to answering a few questions,” Luther said.
Matthias eased Amalie into the passenger seat, got behind the wheel, and fired up the Packard. He pulled out onto Cliff Road and headed toward town.
Amalie sagged into the seat.
“He’s the other one,” she explained to Matthias. “The one who giggled.”
“Believe it or not, I figured that out for myself,” Matthias said.
He concentrated on his driving.
“How did you know?” Amalie asked.
“That you were in trouble? You lied. I heard it in your voice on the telephone.”
For some reason she found that very funny.
“I was sure that you would know I was lying,” she said.
“You really don’t have a problem with my talent.”
It wasn’t a question but she answered it anyway.
“Nope,” she said. “As someone explained to me not long ago, what matters is intent.”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“I love you,” Matthias said.
“That’s good, because I love you, too.”
“You’re telling the truth,” Matthias said.
He sounded as if he had made a glorious discovery, one that had the power to change his world.
“Is that your lie-detecting talent at work?” she asked.
“No. I told you, you’re one of the few people who could lie to me and make me believe you. Sometimes it all comes down to trust. The reason I believe you now is because I trust you.”
She smiled. “I trust you, too.”
“What makes you so sure you can do that?”
“Flyer’s intuition,” Amalie said. Her side was getting more painful by the moment. She tightened her grip on the bandage. “I guess this means we won’t be going out on a real date tonight.”
“We’ll be dining at home,” Matthi
as said.
Home. Amalie smiled.
“That sounds like a very good idea,” she said.
Chapter 59
“Eugene Fenwick was also being manipulated by Jasper Calloway?” Amalie asked. “Why?”
She and Matthias were sitting on a bench in the conservatory at the Hidden Beach. There was a tea tray on a nearby table. Her side hurt but the doctor had assured her that the wound was superficial. Fenwick hadn’t been trying to kill her, not while she was at the wheel. At that moment his goal had been to make her stop the car. There was a small bandage on one side of her neck where the black glass beads of the necklace had cut her, but that injury was minor, too.
“It was Fenwick who broke into your inn,” Matthias explained. “He told Luther that a man in a mummy mask was watching the villa that night and saw him make his escape. Mummy Mask followed Fenwick back to the auto court where Fenwick was staying.”
“Calloway was the man in the mask.”
“Right. Initially he must have assumed that Fenwick was also after the Ares rotors, but when he found a suitcase full of press clippings relating to the Death Catcher murders, he evidently realized he was dealing with a dim-witted killer who was obsessed with murdering a certain former trapeze artist. Calloway evidently decided he might be able to use Fenwick.”
“How?” Amalie asked.
“At that point Calloway’s initial plan was on the rocks,” Matthias said. “Things had gotten complicated. Looks like he decided to keep Fenwick in reserve to be used as a distraction or a fall guy if needed. But once Calloway was dead, there was no one left to control Fenwick. Giggles reverted to his original scheme to kill you.”
“Do you think Eugene Fenwick was the sequel that Calloway promised with his dying breath?” Amalie asked.
“Maybe,” Matthias said. “It’s a possibility.”
“Why would Calloway want Fenwick to murder me?” Amalie asked. “What good would it have done?”
“Calloway probably figured your murder would create a distraction that would send the Pickwell investigation in an entirely different direction,” Matthias said. “That possibility would have looked like an even better idea after the news of the escaped robot hit the papers.”
“That means Jasper Calloway was actually in Burning Cove the night before he showed up driving Vincent Hyde’s limo,” Amalie said.