A Slow Walk to Hell

by Patrick A. Davis

  “Yes.”

  Amanda and I waited for him to elaborate. Nothing. Simon adjusted the carnation pinned to his lapel. Stalling.

  Amanda said, “You’re not going to tell us, are you?”

  “It’s only a suspicion.”

  The magic words. Simon had an aversion to guessing wrong. If he had doubts about a theory, he rarely voiced it until he was sure he’d be proved right. I said rarely because Simon occasionally broke this informal rule. But the odds were slim and I wasn’t holding—

  And then he said it. So quietly, I almost didn’t hear.

  “It was me,” he said.

  I was pulling into the parking space Amanda and I had vacated earlier. I put on the brakes and shifted around to face Simon. Amanda said to him, “You were the leak.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Why? Why would you tell the press?”

  “I didn’t. I told someone else. Someone who I thought would be the last person to contact the media. Even now, I can’t believe he did. But it had to be him.”

  “His name?” Amanda said.

  A silence. Simon grimaced angrily.

  “Harris,” he said finally. “I told Congressman Harris.”

  15

  A second stunning revelation. Amanda immediately dismissed it, saying, “No way, Simon. You’re wrong. It can’t be Harris. He’s the one who insisted this be kept from the press. I suppose the leak could have come from one of Harris’s staffers—”

  “It wasn’t a staffer,” Simon announced flatly.

  “You can’t possibly know—”

  “I know. It wasn’t a staffer.”

  I saw Amanda tense up. Despite their apparent truce, the one thing she couldn’t stand was Simon’s arrogance. The way he was always so sure of himself.

  “Simon,” she flung back sarcastically, “a staffer is a helluva lot more likely to be the leak than Harris. A lot of these people work for the highest bidder and it’s certainly possible that one of them sold out Harris—”

  She broke off. Simon was giving her that vague smile of his, the one that told her he knew something that we didn’t.

  Acceptance crossed her face. She knew better than to fight it. She sighed. “Okay, okay. Let’s have the rest of it.”

  “I called the congressman to warn him about the press,” he said. “He should have been furious over the leak, but he wasn’t. He told me not to concern myself about what had transpired. I couldn’t understand his shift in mood. Earlier he’d been difficult and confrontational and now he was suddenly agreeable.” He gave Amanda and me a long look. “I think we know why.”

  There was a brief pause as Amanda and I tried to explain away the facts Simon had described. When I asked, Simon confirmed that Harris still intended to come here tonight, but would not arrive until ten-thirty. The congressman gave no reason for the delay.

  This seemed to counter Simon’s conclusion and I told him so. I added, “By leaking the killing to the press, Harris is insuring they’ll be present when he arrives. Why would he do that? The reason we’ve kept this quiet was so he wouldn’t be grilled by the press.”

  “I don’t know, Martin.” He fingered his bow tie uneasily. “It can’t be for publicity. As a leading candidate, he has more publicity than he could ever want. We’ve also assumed his purpose for coming here was to suppress the truth about his nephew. Obviously, that can’t be the case or else why would he leak the killing to the press?” He shook his head. “No, I don’t understand it. Unless…could he be unaware of…”

  He was gone for several seconds. Abruptly, he said, “Impossible. Harris has to know about Talbot. He has to.”

  His eyes came back into focus.

  Amanda and I realized what he must be talking about. She said to him, “You found it, didn’t you? You found proof that Talbot was gay?” She sounded disappointed.

  “It’s why I wanted you to come here. See the tapes for yourselves.”

  I was confused by his last remark. “You aren’t talking about tapes from the surveillance camera you discovered, right?” It seemed unlikely that surveillance tapes would yield evidence of homosexuality, unless maybe Talbot had engaged in a tryst in his pool.

  Simon’s voice turned apologetic. “I misled you, Martin. These aren’t surveillance tapes.”

  Confirming they were porn videos.

  I felt myself getting angry. I was used to Simon’s I-got-a-secret games, but he’d told me a straight-out lie about the videos. I asked him why.

  “I thought it was best, Martin.”

  In other words, payback. He was paying me back for withholding information on General Baldwin. I almost fired off a disparaging remark, but realized it wouldn’t do any good.

  “We need to hurry,” he said, unlatching his door. “I want you to view the tapes before Congressman Harris arrives.”

  “Don’t put yourself out on our account.”

  A wasted comment. Simon had stepped from the car. Amanda cracked her door, eying me skeptically. “We’re supposed to believe he called us here to watch porn?”

  It did sound a little ridiculous.

  As I killed the engine, I wondered if I was mistaken. Perhaps Simon hadn’t misled me, to get even. Perhaps he had a specific reason for—

  My hand froze on the ignition key. The words I’d overheard on the phone had come back to me. What the female cop had said to Simon.

  The camera’s in the air-conditioning vent, Lieutenant. I can see the lens.

  Son of a bitch. He’d lied to me again. Simon had found another camera. A camera located in the house. And if it hadn’t been installed for surveillance…

  That had to be it. That’s why Simon wanted me here and why he wouldn’t tell me—

  “Marty,” Amanda called out, “you going to take all day or what?”

  She was waiting beside Simon. I got out and tossed her the keys. As we crossed the pool decking toward the house, I casually asked Simon where we were going.

  “Talbot’s bedroom.”

  Surprise, surprise.

  The forensic processing had spread to the rest of the house. As we passed the various rooms, we saw technicians methodically searching drawers and closets. Berber-hair was in the kitchen, lifting a print from a phone. He flashed me a toothy grin. We were buddies now.

  Approaching the staircase I noticed Simon and Amanda were lagging behind, speaking in low tones. When they saw me watching, they fell silent.

  “A guy might get the idea you were talking about him,” I said, as they walked up.

  No response. Neither one even glanced at me as they continued up the stairs. I took the hint. It was back to two against one again.

  I was tempted to take my ball and go home. Until I came clean about General Baldwin, they’d always be suspicious of me. Wonder what I was hiding.

  “Coming, Marty?” Amanda said.

  She and Simon were halfway up the staircase, gazing down on me. As I looked at them, I became aware of how attractive they appeared together. Two beautiful people.

  “I’m considering withdrawing from the case.”

  Surprise flew across their faces. Simon looked pained. “Don’t do anything rash, Martin.”

  “I’m not. I’ve decided it might be better for everyone concerned if I recuse myself.”

  “Especially General Baldwin?”

  I said nothing.

  Simon’s eyes narrowed. “Loyalty to a friend can be misplaced. In this case, it is.”

  I stiffened at the inference. “You found something on General Baldwin?”

  A flat smile. “Come on up, Martin. We need your assistance.”

  They stood there, waiting to see how I would respond. Of course there was only one thing I could do. They knew it and so did I.

  As I went up the stairs, I wondered if my good friend General Sam Baldwin had also lied to me tonight.

  16

  Amanda said, “Think bed and red, Marty.”

  “A red bed?”

  “Not exact
ly.”

  When I followed her into Talbot’s master bedroom, I understood her comment.

  We were standing in a sprawling split-level room that was easily twice the size of my living room. The lower level was toward the front and contained a sitting area with a leather couch, a couple recliners, and a coffee table. Midway across an expanse of carpet was a short staircase that led to a balconied raised section, dominated by a sleigh-style bed. The bed was huge, half again as wide as a standard king. For a bachelor, it seemed pretentious and unnecessary.

  I looked to the ceiling above the bed. The air vent was there.

  The remaining furnishings consisted of two intricately carved dressers, a wardrobe fully seven feet high, and a massive entertainment unit. Through open double doors beyond the bed, I could make out the tiled walls of a bathroom. Unlike the rest of the house, the room’s decor was antiseptically bare. Not only didn’t you see anything remotely religious, but there weren’t even any personal pictures or mementos on display. All you saw was the color red.

  The walls, the furniture, the drapes, the carpeting—everything was a mind-numbing blood red.

  Except for the bed.

  From the bedframe to the bedding and pillows, the most dominant object in the room was completely white. While I had no idea what reason Talbot must have had for this dramatic contrast of colors, I did know one thing.

  “Major Talbot,” I said with feeling, “was one very strange guy.”

  No reaction from Amanda. Her attention was on Simon, who stood at the far side of the room, conversing quietly with Enrique and Billy Cromartie. A plump woman in a gray suit waited off to the side, following their conversation. Billy stepped over to the entertainment unit and opened a panel, revealing a DVD player and a VCR. Next to the VCR, I noticed a small black electronic box. Simon joined Billy and they continued speaking in earnest tones, looking at the box. They were a good thirty feet away and I couldn’t quite make out their words.

  As I was about to walk over, Amanda pointed my attention to the only other person in the room—a burly man camped on the couch in the sitting area. He was holding up a wicked looking automatic. After popping out the clip, he removed the bullets, placing them in a glassine bag.

  Amanda asked him where he found the pistol.

  “Under the pillow,” the man said. “The second one was in the top drawer of the nightstand, by the bed.”

  We moved closer to him and spied another automatic lying on the coffee table. A brown folder sat next to it.

  “You find any more weapons in the house?” she asked.

  “Not yet, but I’ll bet a month’s pay we will.” He shrugged, inserting the empty clip into the automatic. “The safety wasn’t set on either gun and there was a round in the chamber. Talbot wanted to be able to grab the damn things and fire. Wonder what the hell he was so damned afraid of?”

  The singular question we were trying to answer.

  As we stepped away from him, we saw Billy coming toward us, looking tense. He nodded wordlessly and hurried out the door. Simon was still by the entertainment unit, talking with Enrique and the woman. Like Billy, their expressions were also grim. The woman picked up a cardboard evidence box from the floor and held it up to them. Simon plucked out a tape, inspected it briefly, then returned it and picked up another.

  “Like it makes any damned difference what we watch,” Amanda said.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I said.

  After a couple steps, I realized Amanda wasn’t with me. Glancing back, I saw her shaking her head.

  “I don’t feel right about this, Marty. Peering into Talbot’s private life.”

  “We’re cops. It’s what we do.”

  “So to solve his murder, we destroy his reputation?”

  I shrugged. “We might be able to keep it from the press.”

  “You’re dreaming. You saw the crowd outside. Someone in the department will leak this to them. It’s too damn big.”

  She looked thoroughly angry and disgusted. I said, “This bothers you that much, huh?”

  “Damn right, it does. Major Talbot doesn’t deserve to be humiliated like this.”

  A rare display of empathy from the woman who was known around the OSI as the Ice Princess. It seemed that not all the recent changes in Amanda’s life were cosmetic.

  She scowled at me. “What are you smiling at?”

  I hadn’t realized I was. I shrugged. “I was just thinking it’s a good thing.”

  “What’s a good thing?”

  “The new you.”

  “Oh, for—” She reddened and turned away. She quickly switched the subject, announcing, “Enrique was wrong about this room.”

  I frowned. “Okay…”

  She made a circle with her arm. “He said there’s nothing religious in here. He missed the point about the color. The red in itself has religious connotations.”

  I was nodding my agreement when another explanation came to mind. I don’t know why I thought of it. Possibly it was because of what we would soon see on the tapes. Or perhaps it was because I remembered what someone had once told me long ago.

  “Hell,” I said. “I think Talbot was saying he was going to Hell.”

  She regarded me with suspicion. “You get that from Simon?”

  “No. Is that what he said?”

  “Yes.”

  This response came from Simon, who was coming over, carrying a video. Behind him, Enrique was inserting another tape into the VCR.

  “Before we view the tapes,” Simon said, “there’s something I need to tell you about them. They actually came from—”

  “The video camera you found,” I finished.

  Simon made an exaggerated blink, which was how he reacted when surprised by something.

  “Camera?” Amanda said. “I thought there wasn’t any camera.”

  Simon stopped before me and I detected something unexpected in his eyes. Regret. He asked, “How did you know, Martin?”

  “Know what?” Amanda said. “One of you want to tell me what we’re talking about here?”

  I said to Simon, “You told me you needed me to establish motive. I wondered why.” I looked at the woman holding the evidence box. “Then I remembered hearing her on the phone, talking about a camera in an air-conditioning vent.”

  Simon shook his head. “I didn’t want to deceive you about any of this. But after your reaction this evening, I felt I had no choice. I was afraid you might not come if you knew the truth.”

  Another indication he had something on General Baldwin or was at least trying to make me think he did. Knowing Simon liked getting into people’s heads, I decided to see if he was bluffing.

  “Cut it out, Simon. We both know you don’t have Baldwin on tape.”

  He shrugged. “I never said I did.”

  “That does it,” Amanda said. “Someone better start talking. Fast.”

  We found ourselves confronted by two irritated green eyes. She said to Simon, “Start at the beginning. Are you saying you did find another surveillance camera and these tapes are from—”

  “No.”

  She frowned. “But Marty just said—”

  “Technically,” I said, “it’s not a surveillance camera.” To Simon, I said, “I assume it’s in the vent above Talbot’s bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that box you and Billy were looking at?”

  “A wireless infrared receiver to receive the video signal.”

  Amanda said, “Oh, hell—” Her eyes dropped to the tape Simon was holding against his side. “So that porn video—”

  “Homemade.” I answered. I reached down to take the tape from Simon. As I grasped the box, I realized it was empty. Turning it over, I saw that it was a studio release, a popular action picture. Now it was my turn to be confused and I looked at Simon.

  “That’s what took us so long to find them,” he said. “Talbot hid them in commercial video sleeves.”

  Just then we heard loud, tinny laughte
r. Facing the TV, we saw a Seinfeld rerun on the screen. Enrique lowered the volume with a remote and looked to us.

  “Anytime you’re ready,” he said.

  As we walked over to the TV, Enrique said to Simon, “Okay, if I miss the show?”

  “Of course.”

  He handed Simon the remote. “It’s all set. Coming, Cherie?”

  “Right behind you. Once is all I can take.” Cherie placed the evidence box on the floor beside the entertainment cabinet and hurried over to Enrique who was waiting by the door.

  Simon said to him, “Tell everyone not to disturb us for the next few minutes.”

  “Sure, boss.” As Enrique reached around to pull the door shut, he noticed John, the guy on the couch, giving him a wiseass grin.

  “Something funny, John?”

  Enrique said it casually, but his words had an instantaneous effect. John’s smile disappeared and he swallowed hard. “Uh, no, Enrique. Nothing.”

  “You sure? Because it looked like you thought something was pretty damned funny.”

  “It’s nothing, Enrique. I swear.” John concentrated on the gun in his hand as if it was the most important thing in the world.

  Enrique made no move to leave. He remained at the door, gazing coolly at John. Behind him, we saw Cherie taking everything in with an amused smile.

  “Leave us, John,” Simon ordered.

  John’s eyes darted to Simon. He licked his lips nervously. “Ah, Lieutenant, I’m not quite finished—”

  “Please,” Simon said firmly.

  John reluctantly packed up the guns and went toward the door. Enrique stepped aside and as John squeezed past, he whispered into his ear. John went pale. He nodded dumbly, mumbling under his breath.

  “What was that, John?”

  “I said I’m sorry.”

  Enrique gave us a knowing wink and as he closed the door, we could hear Cherie laughing.

  “Teach him to screw with Enrique,” Amanda said.

  This was how Enrique had learned to make it as a gay cop. By making it clear he wasn’t going to tolerate being demeaned.

  On the TV, a car commercial was playing. Simon pointed the remote and the commercial was replaced by an image of two nude men lying on an enormous bed.