THE MAN WHO HUNTED HIMSELF

by Lex Lander

  ‘How did you come to know where to find us? Last time we heard you were in Mexico City.’

  It was quite a tale as it turned out.

  From Mexico he had flown to Los Angeles and rented a car for the final leg to San Luis Obispo Airport. When neither Maura nor I was there to meet him, he hung around in the airport cafeteria for a while.

  ‘I didn’t understand what was going on,’ he explained, crossing his legs and fastidiously repositioning the crease in his pants so that it lay plumb centre across his kneecap. ‘There I was stuck in San Luis, for reasons unknown. Maura’s cell was off.’

  ‘So what did you do?’ Maura asked.

  What he had done was call Carl Heider in the hope, as he put it, of locating Maura. They were mutually surprised to learn that they were within a few miles of each other. Heider had ordered him to the Avila Beach house.

  ‘You went?’ Maura said. ‘Just like that?’ Then to Lindy, who wanted to get down from the table and play on the swing, ‘All right, honey, but stay where I can see you.’

  ‘Okay, Mommy.’ Then she was gone.

  ‘No, not just like that,’ Richard retorted with a scowl. ‘But to refuse, when I was only a mile or two down the road, was just going to make him suspicious about my motives and my loyalties.’

  ‘He’s right, Maura,’ I said. ‘He couldn’t have justified it.’

  Maura wasn’t happy about it, but let it go.

  ‘Look’ Richard said, defensive now, ‘I was there because you asked for my help. I didn’t even know about Avila Beach until two days ago.’ He looked from Maura to me and back again. ‘You didn’t trust me, did you? That’s why you sent me off on a wild goose chase, to shut me out.’

  I sipped my coffee which was almost cold.

  ‘Maura trusted you. I had doubts. I didn’t want to reject your offer, so I decided to keep you on ice, so to speak.’

  His laugh was bitter.

  ‘On ice, in Mexico. Well, thanks a bunch, Henley, or whoever you are. I stick my neck out for you and – ’

  I chopped him off with a smack of my hand on the table.

  ‘Not for me, Richard. For Maura, and for Lindy, your family. I just happened to be around when Maura decided she’d had enough being forcibly kept from her daughter. Maybe I was the catalyst, inasmuch as without me it might not have come to a head when it did. But it would have happened sooner or later. Being separated from her daughter was killing Maura.’

  He studied his gleaming toe caps, his mouth set in a lipless line.

  ‘So now we know how you came to be in Avila Beach,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t explain how you knew what happened to us, and where to find us – grateful though we are. Did Uncle Carl let you in on the plot?’

  ‘Not at all. He didn’t trust me either.’ Another laugh, still without humour. ‘Nobody trusts me. In his case though he was right not to.’

  ‘I trust you,’ Maura said, laying a hand on his arm. Irrationally, I experienced a spurt of jealousy, immediately quenched.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, behind a crooked grin. ‘Anyhow, there I was, reluctant guest of Carl and Justine, with that rogue cop, Gratrix, who was the other house guest ...’

  Heider had demanded an explanation for Richard’s presence.

  ‘Are you working with Henley?’

  Richard gave his uncle a blank look.

  ‘I’m not working with anybody.’

  ‘Don’t fucking bullshit me, Richard, or you’ll be one sorry asshole. You’re in bed with that bastard, aren’t you?’

  Ever intimidated by his uncle, Richard told the simple truth: he had come in response to Maura’s cry for help.

  ‘She’s my stepmother. Lindy’s my stepsister.’

  Maybe conceding that Richard might after all be genuine in his attachment to Maura and Lindy, Heider let the accusation drop.

  ‘She say what sort of help you were expected to provide? Not fucking her, are you?’

  ‘That’s sick talk!’ Richard flared. ‘I’m not Nick. She was my dad’s wife, for God’s sake.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Heider waggled his hand in a soothing motion. ‘So what did your precious stepmother tell you?’

  ‘Only that it was to do with Belinda.’ He looked around the room. ‘Is Lindy here? And where’s Angelina?’

  ‘Angie’s upstairs watching some crap on TV. As for Lindy ...’

  ‘They kidnapped Angie to make us give up Lindy.’ This from Justine, so far a non-contributor to the conversation, sitting primly at the end of the curved couch.

  Richard was startled. ‘You don’t say.’

  Heider nodded. ‘She was out cycling. Those two fat baboons who were supposed to be protecting her let it happen.’

  ‘Anyway, she’s back with us now,’ Justine said. ‘That’s what really counts.’

  ‘They didn’t hurt her, did they?’ Richard said. ‘She was just a bargaining tool, right?’

  ‘They locked her up, that was enough.’ Heider’s tone was bleak. Then he frowned at Richard. ‘How come you know so much?’

  ‘I’m surmising. Even if Henley doesn’t care a shit about Angie, Maura wouldn’t have let him lay a finger on her.’

  Heider muttered to himself and drummed his fingers on the arm of his armchair.

  ‘Anything else you can give us?’Gratrix asked from across the room. He was leaning on the bar counter, a chunky glass of amber liquid before him. ‘Do you know where they’re hanging out, for instance?’

  Richard spread his hands. ‘You know as much as I do. I came to help Maura, I’m not making any excuses for that. But I’ve no idea what role I was supposed to play.’

  ‘Decoy, most likely,’ was Gratrix’s shrewd assessment. ‘Or a red herring, if you like. Scatter confusion and doubt.’

  Heider stopped drumming his fingers abruptly and snapped them at Richard instead.

  ‘You – go up to the guest suite. Second floor, down the corridor, third door on the right.’ He sniggered. ‘Nice view of the ocean. Stay there and don’t come out until I tell you. Shit is gonna happen and it’s best you stay pure.’

  ‘What shit?’

  ‘What do you think, you moron? The problem we have with Maura hasn’t gone away. It’s just gotten bigger, now that we don’t have Lindy as a bargaining counter any more.’

  ‘I’ve a right to know what’s going on. Where’s Maura – ’

  ‘Screw you, Richard! This is none of your business. Keep your nose out and you’ll keep it clean. Now ...’ He jerked a thumb towards the stairs. ‘Get the hell up there and stay out of my sight. The fridge is well stocked and there’s TV, video, all your heart could desire.’

  Richard leapt to his feet, a riposte on his lips. It never left them. Gratrix was suddenly holding a short-barrelled revolver, a snarling grin pulling his features out of shape.

  ‘Do like the man says, Dicky dick.’

  ‘No need for that, Bernie,’ Heider said. ‘Richard’s a good boy. He’ll do as he’s told, won’t you, Richard?’

  With a shrug, Richard turned his back on the room and its occupants and mounted the open wooden staircase to the glass sided balcony that overlooked the living area. On reaching the balcony, he paused to look down. Heider, Gratrix, and Justine were watching him. He gave them the finger, feeling childish even as he did it. To Heider’s guffaw, he went along the balcony. It narrowed to a corridor with doors off on both sides. Television dialogue sounded from behind the first on the right, Angelina’s room for sure. Two doors down from there he stopped, opened the door and stood on the threshold. The guest suite was furnished Scandinavian style, lots of blond timber and rugs strewn about the dark oak floor. He entered and slammed the door. Less than a minute to crank up the TV and he was back out in the corridor, resolved not to miss any of the conversation.

  Would they check that he was really in his room? Not Carl Heider, supremely confident that his authority would hold sway over his mild-mannered nephew. In his rubber-soled loafers, Richard was soundless as he scurried bac
k to the balcony section, there to peer around the wall at the scene below. Heider and Gratrix hadn’t moved; Justine was topping up her glass with red wine.

  ‘... at least we know where Maura’s kite is parked – thanks to Angie.’ Heider was lighting a cigarette as he spoke.

  ‘Not a lot of help in tracking down their hideaway,’ Gratrix pointed out.

  Justine returned to her seat on the periphery.

  ‘We could wait for them to collect it at the airport,’ she said.

  Heider grunted. ‘Might take days, or even weeks.’

  ‘Better still, why not sabotage the plane,’ Gratrix suggested. ‘Blow it up.’

  ‘No!’ Justine banged her glass down on the coffee table beside her. ‘Have you forgotten Lindy will be with them?’

  ‘Collateral damage,’ Heider said dismissively.

  Justine got up, strode over to him, and very deliberately slapped his face. She put a lot of force behind the slap and his cheek instantly reddened.

  ‘You do such a thing, Carl Heider, and I will leave you.’

  Threat delivered, she marched out. Heider rubbed his cheek. He didn’t seem impressed.

  ‘I was looking to trade her for a new model anyway,’ he said, and Gratrix grinned in appreciation.

  Silence ruled for what seemed to Richard, in fear of discovery up there on the balcony, to last forever. Heider broke it eventually, saying, ‘Blowing the plane up would make it an obvious case of murder. We would need to be more discreet, rig it so that it crashes but looks like an accident.’

  The discussion that ensued between the two evolved into a two-pronged attack – on the fuel line and the radio. It was Gratrix who suggested an acid explosive to disable the radio.

  ‘Maura’s a very skilled pilot,’ Heider said pensively. ‘I’ve flown in a storm with her, so I should know. Even if both engines quit on her she may be able to belly flop safely.’

  ‘If they make for Vegas they’re sure to fly over the Mojave Desert. So even if they get down intact chances are they’ll die of thirst or exposure.’

  ‘Or they might just crash and come to an untimely end.’

  Gratrix snickered. ‘You’re a heartless bastard, Carl. You may not have a blood connection with Maura and admittedly she’s a threat-in-the-making, but Belinda is your brother’s daughter.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ Heider said, and he was grinning wolfishly as if he were relishing the prospect. Richard half expected him to lick his lips. ‘Do you know somebody who could do a job on the plane? And can you get hold of this acid stuff?’

  ‘Yes to both questions. There’s a guy in LA who owes me a favour or several. We’ll need to move fast though. No telling when they’ll take off.’

  ‘Get right on it then, Bernie. No expense spared, right?’

  Even before Heider had finished speaking, Gratrix had his cell phone out and was inputting numbers

  ‘Gotcha.’

  Overhearing this clinical debate about murdering Maura and Belinda was the clincher for Richard. His divided loyalties were divided no more.

  ‘To the best of my recollection that’s how it played out,’ Richard said, and his eyes were downcast, as if he felt a responsibility for the acts committed by Carl Heider and his corrupt sidekick. ‘I still have trouble believing my uncle would kill you and Lindy without so much as a twinge of conscience.’

  ‘Nothing that man did would ever shock me,’ Maura said. ‘He has a lot in common with his brother.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ Richard confirmed. He looked at me. ‘Does that answer your questions?’

  ‘If you mean do I believe you, I guess so. If you were somehow setting us up for Heider, you wouldn’t need to be hanging around here. You could have reported to him yesterday. Plus, you saved us when you could have left us to die.’

  ‘It was only a small thing,’ he said, his humour still intact.

  ‘How did you get away in the end?’ Maura asked, flicking a glance to where Lindy was playing in the sand pit. Never off-duty where her daughter was concerned.

  ‘They staked out the airport, so they knew your time of take off. They had calculated how long your fuel would last. When, by their reckoning, it was too late for me to intervene, Carl sent me back to Houston. Even saw me onto the plane himself.’

  I reached for the coffee pot and topped up my cup. When, forgetting she only drank decaff, I offered it to Maura she shook her head and gave me that special look that was full of different emotions: love, desire, longing, all in a single package. No words necessary. It told me all I needed to know about her feelings for me.

  Keeping my feet firmly planted on the deck, I said to Richard, ‘So you flew back from Houston to Santa Barbara. Your plane must have been rocket propelled.’

  ‘Not quite. The Houston flight went via Phoenix. I was lucky, and just scraped a connection to LA. By nine in the evening I was back in Santa Barbara organizing a search.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ I said.

  The sun went behind a cloud and it was instantly chilly, a reminder that we were in the run up to Christmas.

  Richard removed his sunglasses, and said, ‘When I told you what Carl had planned, I omitted something.’ He stared at me, or appeared to. The cast in one eye made it difficult to be sure where his gaze was focused.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It was something about you that I was completely unprepared for.’

  Nothing in his manner forewarned me of his next move. When he delved under the hem of the chunky sweater and produced a gun – the Ruger automatic I had appropriated from Cesare Tosi, if I wasn’t mistaken – I was caught wrong footed. He pointed the gun at me. Maura’s intake of breath distracted him not at all.

  ‘This is yours. You probably recognize it. I went through your baggage last night.’ He made a gesture of apology.

  He was less than six feet away. At such point blank range, even if he was no marksman, he couldn’t miss.

  ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I said, outwardly calm, inwardly churning the reason for the apparent volte-face. ‘It’s not often I look at it from this angle.’

  He smiled. ‘Keep the humour going, even when looking down the barrel of a gun, eh, Henley?’

  ‘Put that down,’ Maura said, and her voice was harsh. ‘You’re not going to shoot him.’

  ‘Aren’t I? Presumably you know he killed my father.’

  TWENTY-SIX

  ‘I knew all right,’ Maura said, cool and composed. ‘And in case you’re wondering how I could fall for the man who killed my husband, let me remind you what kind of husband he was.’

  Richard stood up, the black hole of the muzzle unwavering. I tensed myself, preparing to tackle him if he came within reach. But he veered away towards the deck rail, still covering me. Against the divided backdrop of pale blue sky and deep blue water, he was mostly a silhouette.

  ‘I wasn’t wondering that at all, Maura,’ he said. ‘For my money Henley’s a stand-up guy, maybe even worthy of you.’

  The distance between us had widened to ten feet at least. Too far to pounce before he could get off a shot. If the Ruger’s safety was off and the hammer cocked, he would plug me even as I left the chair. Even so, it had to be attempted. Either that or just sit and take the bullet.

  ‘Richard ...’ Maura said, ‘Your father acted as if life was cheap. Don’t be like him ... please.’

  The balls of my feet were flat to the deck, ready to launch me across that ten foot divide. Not easy from a seated position. Surprise was my only weapon.

  ‘Hey, Henley, chill,’ Richard said with an amused shake of his head. ‘Save the heroics for another day.’

  He reversed the Ruger and tossed it to me. I fumbled the catch, the butt cracking the knuckle of my thumb.

  ‘In this case blood is not thicker than the other stuff,’ he said. ‘My father was an unmitigated shit. He beat me, he beat Maura.’ He tapped his cheekbone below the eye with the cast. ‘This was his handiwork. One beating too many, but he didn’
t give up even then. He deserved the bullets you put in him and more. If I had the guts, I’d have done it myself long before you made the scene.’

  The Ruger’s safety was on, and the hammer was down, proof that he had never intended me harm. Not only that, I could tell from its weight that the magazine was empty. I massaged my cracked knuckle and stared at him, robbed of speech in my dazed relief. Relief, and wonderment that he was prepared to forgive and forget. Richard Heider was a saint in human form.

  Maura limped over to me, crouched beside my chair and took my hand in both of hers.

  ‘I love you,’ she said, I knew the avowal was as much for Richard’s hearing as mine.

  ‘It’s a pity you couldn’t have fallen for someone in a more, ah, upstanding profession,’ he remarked, with a touch of irony. ‘But considering my own way of life, I can hardly make waves. I wish you both, and Lindy, all the happiness in the world.’

  At that rather poignant moment Lindy came clumping onto the deck.

  ‘Mommy, come and push the swing!’ she commanded, imperious as a dowager.

  ‘Belinda Heider, where are your manners?’

  She didn’t care to debate her shortcomings in that area. She wordlessly wrenched Maura’s hands from mine, and hauled both of us off towards the playground.

  Both of us, making three of us.

  Back in Las Vegas, the shadow of Carl Heider still looming over us, we tied up loose ends. In my case there was almost none, in Maura’s case a plethora. Top priority was to report the loss of her aircraft to the insurers. Forms had to be completed on line. Her lawyer – not Nick – would handle the rest. That done, she arranged for the cats to be cared for, her mail to be forwarded, the garden to be tended, and a home care person to visit the house twice weekly.

  ‘My insurers insist on it,’ she told me.

  All this and a dozen other minor matters took the best part of a day, culminating in a marathon packing session for her and Lindy. I spent much of the day, the Ruger in my belt, prowling outside, up and down the knoll to observe through my binoculars the comings and goings of traffic. The golf course was dotted with figures swinging their clubs. None of them was a Heider. Or a Gratrix. It didn’t mean some other hoodlum employee wasn’t there, keeping watch. Maybe they were in no hurry. Maybe they hadn’t considered the possibility of our leaving right away. I discounted the prospect that Heider was scared of tackling me. Respect, sure, he would have plenty of that. But afraid? Not with the manpower at his disposal.