“That must be terribly limiting,” she replied politely, “By the by, do you have a jacket and tie?”
“In my entire wardrobe?”
“With you, Mr. Cassella.”
“No.”
“Then we shall have to find you one for this evening.”
“Is it required?”
“Of course not, but you will blend in rather better that way, and that should help you with your investigations.”
“You’re quite right, Agnes. Please do find me something.” She turned to go. “Agnes, wait. Why are you concerned?”
“Miss Christina has been one of ours for many, many years. Since she was quite a little girl. We’re all fond of her. And though, if I may speak for the rest of the staff, we’re all quite shocked by Mr. Wood’s conduct, we’re all quite sympathetic to Miss Christina’s loss.”
For a moment she made it seem that some lost and lovely world had drifted out of Masterpiece Theatre into reality.
“May I ask you an impertinent question?” I said.
“Nothing you could say would be impertinent,” she lied.
“Is he really busy or evading me?”
“Oh, do be sensible, Mr. Cassella,” she clucked. “If he wanted to evade you, do you think he would have gone through all that folderol with the seaplane? Would he even have invited you? Therefore you might deduce … is that the proper detective term? … that he actually is tied up.”
“Thank you.”
“There is one other thing, actually two, that I have to say to you, Mr. Cassella, if I may.”
“Please.”
“Don’t do anything to hurt Miss Christina. She seems terribly vulnerable right now.”
“That’s one,” I said.
“That’s not a reply.”
“I don’t want to do anything to hurt her. I will try not to do anything to hurt her.”
“Oh dear,” she sighed, “that means that you will. … I’m certainly glad that I am past the age where a pair of dark brown eyes will start a fever in my blood.”
“No, you’re not,” I said.
“I certainly am, young man, but I appreciate the flattery.”
“What I meant was that you are not glad of it.”
“I stand corrected,” she said severely, but her eyes smiled. “The second thing I wanted to tell you was this. I have read enough Agatha Christie to know that character is always the key.
“Look for the overachiever,” she echoed Sandra. “Rather like the late Mr. Wood was. Someone who achieves more than his natural gifts would normally lead to. That’s the sort who breaks the rules. Someone like Mr. Goreman, who is really quite gifted, does not have to do that. You see, he is clever enough to play within the rules, or find the legitimate loopholes or create new rules. He does not have to break them.”
“I see,” I said solemnly.
“If you don’t, you’re probably a terrible detective. I’ll find you a tie and jacket now. A tweed for you, I think.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “no one told me we were to dress for dinner.”
“Dinner is come as you are. The jacket is for the party tonight.”
It was a major Hamptons bash. There were items on the buffet that I could not afford as an appetizer for one, let alone as a meal for 250. The catering budget, calculated by federal guidelines, would have fed a family of four through generations yet unborn. The futures market in scotch whiskey nudged up another quarter point. The rock ’n’ roll was subdued, the dancing discreet and everyone asked if Woody Allen was really going to show up.
I was looking for the lord of the manor. I finally spotted him, moving through the party, performing his chores as host graciously but perfunctorily. I cut through the whiskey sippers, contact makers and hustlers. He greeted me as graciously as he did any of the other guests.
“I do have to talk to you,” I said.
“Indeed you do,” he said, taking me by the elbow and guiding my path, “and indeed you shall.” We moved through the crowd. I thought the moment had come, but he stopped to introduce me: “This is Andrew Klughorn, our wonderful comptroller, and much, much more. This is Tony Cassella. Tony is the detective investigating the murder of Edgar Wood.”
“How interesting,” Klughorn said coldly. By then, Goreman had moved on.
“It’s gotten to be.”
“Oh,” he replied, as if it weren’t.
“You know that it was a contract, that Wood was hit to shut him up.”‘
“I had heard something, but it seemed to me to be merely a rumor.”
“Not at all. A pro took him out. Then he was hit to tie up the loose ends. But it won’t work,” I said.
“You’ll excuse me, Mr. Uhh …”
“I won’t, and it’s Cassella.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“When Wood was sentenced, he made threats. Threats to expose other people who were supposed to have done as much as he did, or worse. Comptroller and director of financial operations. A good position to be in, if you have sticky fingers.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” he said and began to turn away. I put my hand on his arm to stop him.
“There’s a dead hand from the past. It’s pointing, and one of the people it’s pointing at is you. You’re gonna have to face that. You’re gonna have to deal with that, Andy.”
“Please take your hand off my jacket.”
“Did Wood have something on you?” I asked, not letting go.
“Absolutely not.”
“There are a lot of people hot for this thing now. The Virginia cops, the D.C. cops. And Wood was a federal witness. The FBI hates it when a federal witness gets bumped. They’re gonna come looking at Over & East, and one of the people they are gonna come after is you. You do see that, don’t you?”
“On a purely theoretical basis, perhaps. In reality, unlikely.”
“OK, they’re looking at Over & East. Who should they be looking at, if not you?”
“I cannot imagine anyone …”
“Did you imagine that Wood was a thief?”
“No.”
“Can you imagine that there is someone else with another dirty secret? Why not? And whoever it is, if it’s not you, is willing to kill to save his reputation, his money. To stay out of Attica. You better imagine it, ’cause it’s true.”
I let go of his arm. It didn’t matter. I had his attention.
“It’s an interesting theory. Forgive me if I’m somewhat skeptical.”
“Think. Think about what I said. Think about who it could be. And think about the news stories. Forbes might make it a cover story. ‘FBI Goes Over Over & East,’ across the top, then a kicker across the bottom: ‘And the Charge Is Murder!’ Call me, Mr. Klughorn, if you think of something.”
I went looking for Goreman again. He was affable and guided me to Stephen Marlowe, head of acquisitions.
Marlowe was in resort attire, powder-blue jacket and red pants. Ghastly. I started running the same game on him. If Klughorn was put out, Marlowe was insulted.
“I think,” he said, “I’m going to ask Charlie to throw you out.”
“What the fuck do you think ‘Charlie’ brought me here for?” I replied. “‘Charlie’ doesn’t want a six-month federal investigation into the top brass of Over & East with daily leaks to the Times and CBS. Charlie would like it solved nice, quiet and in-house.”
“Do you actually suspect me?”
“There are only four logical suspects. Klughorn, Diller, you and Goreman.”
All of them had gone eyeball to eyeball with the SEC, with foreign governments, with congressional investigations. I did not expect to see anyone twitch. No one would break down and confess. But they would start looking at each other, looking for what I wanted to find. And the guilty party might get nervous enough to jump.
Lawrence Choate Haven was also at the party. He was far more surprised to see me than I was him. He asked what I was doing there.
“
Charlie,” I said, “wants me to clear this mess up before it gets more out of hand.”
“You spoke to Mr. Goreman without consulting me first?”
“No.”
“Then how is it I am unaware of your contact with my client?”
“He heard about me from a third party and was so impressed that he felt he had to have me for his soirée.”
“Mr. Cassella …”
“Pardon my sarcasm, sir,” I said. “But he did call me. The thing is that there are so many loose ends, with two killings and all, that it has to unravel. The feds are going to think the same thing I do, because it’s what Wood said to think, that there are two places to look: Over & East and your outfit. It would be better all around if I got to whoever it is before they come in and tear everything up.”
And I wondered, even as I said it, what Goreman’s real game was. I didn’t particularly believe in the motives I was ascribing so easily to him.
“The investigation was initiated by my office. I am, therefore, not at all happy with steps taken without consultation. Under these circumstances, I’m not sure that all parties would not be more satisfied with a more reputable agency handling the matter.”
That was something I had to deal with, and Christina was the key to it.
“Look,” I told her, “I’m going to need you to stand behind me. To fight for me. I’m making a lot of enemies tonight, including the people who control your trust fund and your estate, which is what pays for this investigation. They may try to stop me.”
“Tell me what to do,” she said.
“Do you care enough to pay the bills yourself until you can get your money?”
“That could be a lot of money. I’m not sure I have it.”
“Just the fact that you’re willing is probably enough. But you can’t run the bluff unless you’re willing to get called. Now what’s it gonna be?”
“Whatever you tell me to do, Angel.”
I found Goreman again. He asked me if he had introduced me to Diller yet.
“Do I have to go through the whole circle before I get to you?”
“That is a most reasonable approach,” he smiled. “Also, I have my duties as host, which must occupy me for another hour at least. Then we will have a good chat.”
Midnight came. I saw him, looking tired, retreat to his den. “I guess it is time,” he sighed when he saw me.
25
HUNGARY
“NOT HERE,” HE SAID, “let’s walk.”
“It’s very good of you,” I said on the south lawn, “to gather all the suspects together here in one place.”
“Did you shake anything loose?”
“No.”
“Good. Anybody on my team should know how to hang tough,” he said with pride.
“What did Wood have on you that was so hot?”
“Nothing.”
Shrubs and trees bordered the lawn, helping to hold down the dunes. The moon was bright enough to illuminate the path through them to the beach. It was bright enough to cast shadows.
As we walked along, I made out the shape of two figures rustling behind the foliage. From the shape of the shadows and the tenor of the sound, it seemed that one man was having his cock sucked by the other.
“If there was nothing there,” I asked him when we got to me beach, “how come you hired Douglas, Cohen to handle it?”
“Well, Choate, Winkler was compromised. We needed an outsider, and Douglas, Cohen, in my opinion, is the best.”
“They tried awfully hard to get Wood’s testimony. They were up to, what?—Federal Appeals Court?—before Wood got it.”
“They were simply doing their job.”
“Off the record, strictly off the record, because I could not care less, what could Wood have told the SEC?”
Goreman sat down on a piece of driftwood. He untied his shoes, took off his socks and rolled up his pants. I did the same.
“He was privy to everything you and your company have ever done. He was your personal attorney in addition to everything else. He must have known a lot.”
Goreman tied his shoes together, stuffed the socks inside and put them over his shoulder. “He didn’t know everything,” he replied as he walked toward where the sand was hard and wet. I followed, down toward the crashing breakers.
“Do you know how blessed we are to be here? In America? Between these two oceans?”
“Maybe.”
“I could kneel down and kiss the ground here.”
He had done so. I knew that. In 1968, after a trip to the Soviet Union, when the Aeroflot landed at JFK, Goreman had gone down on his knees on the oil-soaked tarmac. Staining a five-hundred-dollar suit, he bent down and kissed the pavement. There was dirt on his mouth when he stood up.
Some people thought it was all phony. I didn’t think so. Some people laughed at it. My father wouldn’t have. Then again, neither would Uncle Vincent.
“From penniless refugee to multimillionaire. Of course you should kiss the ground,” is what I said. “Kiss ass, kiss anything for a deal like that. Shake hands with the devil, do a deal with a heroin peddler and kill Edgar Wood, for a deal like that.”
“I presume that you are being deliberately rude to provoke me.”
“Isn’t that what we’re here for? To discuss why you killed Edgar Wood?”
“Do you expect me to break down and confess? Here and now? To you?”
“Why don’t you, Charles? Confession helps. The sins eat at our souls. The burden grows heavy. There is no one here but the seagulls and the surf, and they don’t care. Me, I don’t care about punishing, just knowing.”
He bent down and picked up a broken piece of shell. He studied it, then tossed it in an arc toward the water. A wheeling gull saw it, turned and dived for the splash it made.
“OK, Tony, you want a confession, I’ll give you a confession. I am a killer. I have killed, more than once. Not hired anyone. No Doc Wellby for me. With my own hands I have killed. What else should I confess to? Stealing? I have stolen. Money, food, even shoes. Bribery, forgery … all those things I have done.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Well,” he paused and thought a moment, “Charles Goreman is not my real name.”
“Who did you kill?”
“My real talent, I think, my special ability, Tony, is to be able to assess value. The whole thing, Over & East, is built on that single ability. I see a company. It is not making money. Perhaps it is badly run, it doesn’t matter what the reason. What matters is that it is only trading for twenty million, and the assets can be sold for twenty-two million. So I go to the bank, borrow the twenty and know that I will come out ahead. That’s the whole thing, and it’s that simple.”
“Where are we going?”
“How is your history? Do you now anything about Hungary?”
“Mostly about the revolution. When was it? ’56?”
“We have such a narrow view here, it is peculiar. … I have asked many Americans about Hungary. College students, professors, politicians, educated, aware people. How many of them know that Hungary was the first fascist country? In 1932, when Adolf Hitler was just applying for German citizenship, Horthy and Gombos brought fascism to Hungary. They killed the Reds, persecuted the Jews and shot anyone who argued. They needed no urging to join the Axis. In 1941 they declared war on the Soviet Union and on the United States. I know. I was there. … The Hungarians deserve the Russians.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“Maybe, maybe not. You told me confession is good. So I am telling you, and the seagulls, and the surf, what I am made of. Then maybe you can figure out if I killed my old friend Edgar Wood. …”
Our feet splashed through the water that rushed up on the beach.
“But the Hungarians had two redeeming qualities. Yes. They did not believe in the final solution. And they could be bought. With money. With money there were false papers; for money the police would ignore false papers; money would even keep y
ou out of the army. Money meant survival. Life and death were measured in cash. Do you understand that?”
I grunted. I probably didn’t, not the way he had lived it.
“Where was I to get money, Tony? I will explain. The Horthy government was confiscating Jewish property, moving area by area. So I would go to a Jew, I would say, ‘You are going to lose your home. You can let “them” take it, or sell it to one of these goyim, vultures, who will pay you only one-tenth what it is worth.’ They would moan and cry then. ‘There is a third way,’ I would tell them. ‘Here, I have Hungarian papers,’ and I would show them the papers. ‘Sell it to me.’ The first time I did this, I was fifteen. …
“Then he might say, ‘How much?’ I had no money. Instead I would tell him that I would sell the house for him, maybe to the second wave of vultures. Instead of one-tenth, I would get half. Then we would split that and we would both be better off. You see how I learned this thing of value?”
“Yes,” I said. “And then the next time you could pay cash up front and buy for less, make more.”
“No. It was not that easy. I would have to pay for the papers. Pay for the bribes. The clerks at the registrar, they knew. Even they would have to be paid, to record the transaction. Usually the, the … there is no word for it in English … the people who did the confiscating, they had to be paid, government people. Also, I had a family then. Parents, two sisters. Also, education. I wanted education and Jews could not go to school, so I paid for tutors for myself and my sisters.”
“And the killing?”
“That came later. In 1944 the Soviet Army was at the Carpathians, and Horthy tried to negotiate terms before they came through the passes. The Germans would not permit that, and German troops occupied the country. Immediately, the first priority was a special rail line from Budapest to Auschwitz. Two, three hundred thousand people were murdered in six months. For them, the extermination of the Jews was more important than winning the war. They were mad.”
“You mean they couldn’t even be bribed?”
“Oh, they would take Jewish money. They loved to extort the money first and then put you on the special train after.
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