Double Eagle

by Keith Miles

  Suzanne had been clever. To divert suspicion from herself, she’d pretended to help me. Having ordered Zuke’s death, she told me that she’d loved him. On the day she tried to have me forced over a cliff, she’d even taken me into her bed.

  It was a chilling memory.

  There was another advantage in befriending me. It enabled her to see just how close I was getting to the truth. When she realised that I’d press on with my investigations to the bitter end, she gave the command to have me removed. I was appalled by the ease with which I’d been misled.

  When I reached her apartment block, I pressed her bell and spoke to her over the intercom. For someone who’d never expected to hear my voice again, she reacted with impassive control and asked if I was alone. I told her that I’d come back with the police if she’d prefer that. Suzanne invited me up.

  The buzzer sounded and the door opened. I was in.

  She was coolness itself. When she let me into her apartment, she behaved with calm politeness. I noted the suitcase standing outside the bedroom door and there were other signs of imminent departure.

  ‘Making a run for it, are we?’ I observed.

  ‘I’m taking a few days’ vacation, that’s all.’

  ‘I think they’ll give you a longer holiday than that. What’s the sentence for first-degree murder in California?’

  ‘Is that supposed to be a joke, Alan?’

  ‘The police have arrested your two chums.’

  ‘I really do have to be on my way.’

  ‘Kallgren is wondering why his yacht has been impounded.’

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, please…’

  She tried to cross to the suitcase but I blocked her way.

  ‘Do you always sleep with men before you have them killed? Is that your turn-on? Is that why Zuke and I got lucky?’

  I stopped her hand as she went to slap my face.

  ‘Zuke was dumb,’ she sneered.

  ‘You didn’t think so when you first met him.’

  ‘Oh yes, I did.’

  ‘What about all that across-a-crowded-room stuff?’

  ‘It wasn’t quite like that.’

  ‘Then what was it like? Tell me.’

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Zuke didn’t slip his hand into mine at that party. It was the other way around. I brought him back here and sounded him out. He had this blind loyalty to Howie Danzig but I knew that I could break it down.’

  I nodded at the bedroom. ‘In there?’

  ‘Of course not!’ she snarled in disgust. ‘I never let him touch me. Do you think I’d throw away my trump card as easily as that? Zuke was desperate for me but I made him wait. After the contract was signed. That was the deal.’

  ‘Meanwhile, you shunted Mardie Cutler into the house.’

  ‘She was perfect. Zuke was already saying goodnight to his wife at the bedroom door by then. I knew that he’d go for Mardie in a big way if he saw her doing a workout in that leotard of hers. She fell for him completely, which was even better. When I had my own aerobics sessions with her here, she used to tell me all about it. I was her confidante.’ Her smile was callous. ‘I didn’t need to screw that jerk. Mardie was doing it for me.’

  ‘She spied for you without even knowing it.’

  ‘And helped to soften him up good and proper.’

  ‘Do you always have to manipulate people, Suzanne?’

  ‘If I can,’ she said, crossing to the drinks cabinet to pour herself a large gin. ‘Mardie was a nice kid but she got in my way. My name was in that address book of hers, so I had it stolen. When she got in touch with you, it was only a question of time before she led you back in my direction. And I couldn’t let that happen.’

  ‘So you had her stabbed to death.’

  ‘She was expendable.’

  Suzanne took a long sip from her glass. She showed no hint of remorse. I was horrified to recall that I’d once made love to her. Everything about her was now totally repulsive.

  ‘Why did Zuke have to be killed?’

  ‘Because he let me down.’

  ‘By not signing that contract?’

  ‘By not honouring the terms that he’d agreed to. Don’t forget, Alan, I’m a lawyer. Contract is everything to me. It’s binding.’

  ‘Not unless it has a signature on it.’

  ‘He’d promised me!’ she exploded. ‘He’d given me his word. It wasn’t just Zuke that we were after but a whole team of golfers. He was the vital first step.’

  ‘I know. Zuke was one of the greats. Even when he was playing badly, he still had charisma. Nobody on the tour had the influence he did. Sign up Zuke Everett and you’d tempt other golfers into the Kallgren fold. Sign up Phil Reiner and all you’ve got is Phil Reiner. Am I right?’

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘What did Gamil Amir say over dinner?’

  ‘No dice.’ She gulped down her drink.’

  ‘You can’t cope with rejection, can you?’

  ‘Zuke betrayed me!’ she retorted. ‘He was going to sign right after the tournament and he blew the whistle on the whole deal.’ Scorn seeped in. ‘Because of one good round of golf.’

  ‘No, Suzanne, it was much more than that. It proved that he could still play. The long drought was over. Zuke didn’t need you. He could get by on his own talent. That’s what he told you, isn’t it? After the third round.’

  ‘He was crazy.’

  ‘I remember you coming over to congratulate him and then turning away when he spoke to you. Now I know what he said. He told you where you could stick your offer. The deal was off.’ I pointed to the bedroom. ‘Including that clause in the contract. He rejected you as a business proposition and he rejected you as a woman.’

  She threw her glass violently at the wall. It smashed on impact and the fragments went everywhere. Moving to the table, she snatched up her handbag and tucked it under her arm.

  ‘Do you know what was at stake for me?’ she demanded. ‘Do you realise what was riding on that contract? Everything. I’d spent six months on him. Six months of careful preparation and hard work. We had to get Zuke Everett to join us and it was all down to me. If he’d signed, then others would have followed suit and Golden Haze would have taken flight.’

  ‘And Suzanne Fricker would have been up there with it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did Kallgren offer you?’

  ‘What I insisted on. A vice presidency. I’d have been made for life. If Zuke had kept his promise. Vice president of the Kallgren organisation. A position with real muscle at last. I’d have been up there at the top if only he’d put his name to that contract.’

  ‘But he didn’t. What does that make you?’

  ‘Someone who didn’t quite bring it off. People like me don’t stay too long on the Kallgren payroll.’

  ‘So the skids are under you.’

  ‘All because of Zuke Everett. I was trying to save his career and he repaid me by wrecking mine.’

  ‘Was that reason enough to have him killed?’

  ‘Of course!’ she said vindictively. ‘I showed them both. I taught Zuke that nobody tears up one of my contracts and I made a lovely big mess all over Mr. Kallgren’s nice, clean tournament. I got back at both of them!’

  ‘You might even have got away with it if I hadn’t come along.’

  I moved towards her but she was ready for me. Opening her bag, she took out a revolver and pointed it at me. I halted in my tracks. Suzanne smiled at my discomfort. She used the revolver to indicate the briefcase lying on her desk, then she motioned me across. I obeyed the silent instruction.

  ‘Open it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I want you to see what Zuke turned down.’

  I flicked the two catches and li
fted the lid. Bundles of crisp new hundred dollar bills were stacked neatly inside. My surprise caused her to laugh. She gestured with the gun again.

  ‘Take one out.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I want you to count it.’

  Pulling out a bundle, I slipped off the band that was holding the bills together. With her standing over me, I thumbed my way through the money. It didn’t take me long.

  ‘$5000,’ I reported.

  ‘There are fifty bundles in there. A grand total of a quarter of a million dollars. It was Zuke’s signing-on fee. Paid in cash as he requested. Non-taxable. All his. A quarter of a million. Exactly twice what he was getting from his other sponsors.’

  I turned one of the bills over. The American eagle was printed on the back. I glanced down at the briefcase and ran a covetous hand over its contents. $250,000. Twice the money. It was ironic.

  Zuke had been offered another kind of double eagle.

  True to himself, he’d chosen the one out on the golf course.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘He did what he felt was right, Suzanne.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘What would you have done in the same situation?’

  Instead of telling her, I showed her. With a sudden movement of my hand, I threw the bundle of loose bills up into her face and dodged to the left at the same time. The first bullet grazed my shoulder. Before she could fire a second, I knocked the revolver from her grasp with a downward blow. She dived after the weapon but I got there first and took charge of it. Suzanne backed away as I covered her.

  The red telephone rang and she made a reflex move to answer it. Ordering her back with a gesture of the gun, I snatched up the receiver.

  ‘This line is closed, Mr. Kallgren. For good.’

  When the double funeral had been held, I was anxious to get away from Los Angeles. It held too many sad memories for me to linger there. The gloom was not comprehensive. Howie Danzig had improved slightly in hospital and was now expected to pull through. Valmai and Helen had worked out some kind of truce that seemed to benefit them both. Salgado and Nelms were pleased that the murders had finally been solved. Orgaz was delighted to be relieved of the task of looking after me. The motel management was thrilled that I was finally leaving.

  Home thoughts excited me. There was Lynette to visit and Rosemary to confound and my father to despise. There was Carnoustie to bring stability and a sense of proportion back into my life. On the emotional front was a big, welcoming gap. Katie Billings might have gone in a blaze of glory but there would be other women in other places. With luck. I was optimistic.

  Then there was Donnelly. The doom machine. I intended to confront him on Monday morning, pay off all my debts, stage a spectacular row with him and transfer my account elsewhere. That would teach him to appear in my nightmares.

  Los Angeles International Airport was at full pandemonium level when I checked in. Valmai had come to see me off and she advised me about some additional presents I wanted to buy Lynette from the duty-free shop. As we headed towards the departure lounge, a brawny figure came hurrying over to us.

  It was Patch Nelms. He carried a brown paper parcel.

  ‘Don’t go without this, Mr. Saxon.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Why not find out?’

  I opened the parcel and took out my old baseball cap. My stomach lurched as I remembered seeing it covered in blood on Zuke’s head. Nelms read my mind.

  ‘Had it cleaned for you,’ he said. ‘Special.’

  ‘Thanks all the same.’

  I took the parcel to the nearest bin and dropped it inside.

  Nelms grinned. ‘That’s how I feel about the Yankees.’

  America can seem like a very alien place sometimes.

  The detective walked away and Valmai frowned.

  ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘A private joke.’

  I leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Neither of us wanted a prolonged leave-taking. Most things were better left unsaid.

  ‘Thanks for everything, Alan.’

  ‘Give my love to Louis.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Goodbye, Valmai.’

  ‘See you next time you come to California.’

  ‘It’s a date.’

  But we both knew that we would never keep it. The man who had brought us together had died and our relationship had gone with him. Valmai had chosen to live near a windy beach with a mad dog. I no longer fitted into her world. If we saw each other again, there would be too many painful reminders to accommodate.

  The TWA flight was on time and I was conducted into the first-class section. It gave me warm satisfaction to know that I’d be spending Kallgren’s money as I flew away from him. What was even more gratifying was the fact that his bid to grab a large chunk of the golf world had failed.

  We were soon airborne and I spared Los Angeles a final glance through the window. It was a poorer place for the loss of Zuke Everett. His death would be a source of permanent sorrow to me, but there was one mitigating factor. I let my mind dwell lovingly on it.

  Early in the flight, the cabin was darkened so that a film could be shown. I saw none of it. My eyes were closed as I replayed a video of my own. It was a treasured record of a high-definition performance in which I’d been involved.

  A master golfer on the 13th hole at Golden Haze.

  That double eagle was my souvenir of Zuke Everett.

  It would keep his memory alive forever.

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