by Zavo
He hugged each of us in turn—a rarity for my father—and left the room. Again, the display of emotion was a testament to the effect this situation was having on him. After he was gone, Nathan refilled our glasses and we sat in stunned silence for several minutes. I was the first to break it.
“Well, after that bad news I didn’t think it wise to tell Dad about the man who’s been skulking around the office.”
“What man, Derrick?”
I filled Daniel in on the events of the morning.
“That’s probably for the best. Your father has enough to worry about at the moment. As you said, we’ll need to be extra vigilant.”
“True, Daniel. I can only speak for myself, but I have a bad feeling about this. Warren Montgomery is going to cause trouble for our family. Just when the agency is about to really take off too.”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence, Derrick?”
“Yes, Nathan. And lousy timing. If Angus hadn’t been killed during the Lionel Hamilton raid, the papers would not have been sent to Warren what’s-his-name. Let’s talk about this more tomorrow with Dad. Why don’t we relax, have some drinks, and shoot some pool.”
Soon the liquor was flowing and we had several games of nine-ball behind us. When I checked the clock, it was past eleven p.m. I was quite tipsy at this point, and ready for bed.
“Well, boys, that’s it for me. I’ve had a long day, and I need to be at the studio early tomorrow for the shooting of the final scene.”
*
It was still dark outside when there was a series of loud knocks on my bedroom door. Without waiting for a reply, the knocker burst in and turned on the lights. It was Nathan, and I was sure he did not have good news this early in the morning. Daniel stirred groggily beside me.
“Derrick, there’s been a fire at your house. Both of you get dressed and meet me and Dad downstairs.”
I was out of bed and pulling clothes on before Nathan had even left the room. A thousand thoughts swirled through my head. Once we were dressed we raced downstairs, passing my frantic mother in the kitchen. She yelled a quick “be careful” as we entered the garage through the kitchen door. My father and Nathan were just getting into the Cadillac. No one spoke as we left the garage. George already had the gate open for us and we roared through onto the main road. As soon as we were on the highway Nathan began filling in the missing pieces.
“We got the call from Michael. He was notified by the fire department after one of your neighbors called it in.”
“Do they think it was an accident, Nathan, or deliberately set?”
When Nathan didn’t answer immediately, I felt my stomach twist into knots. Daniel grabbed my hand and held it tight.
“Apparently the neighbor who called it in is an early riser, and saw a man coming down the sidewalk from your house. He could see flames in various sections of the house. We’ll have to wait to speak to the fire marshal, but it sounds like it was no accident.”
Meanwhile, my father quietly and determinedly put the Cadillac through its paces, exceeding all posted limits, passing any car in front of us and stopping briefly—or not at all—at traffic signals. The blaze was visible several blocks away, the orange of its glow juxtaposed against the light purple of the early fall morning.
When we turned onto my street, it was jammed with fire trucks, police vehicles, ambulances, and the cars of numerous newsmen and nosy bystanders. My father maneuvered the car expertly through the crowd, using the sidewalk as needed, and got as close to my house as possible before a brawny fireman blocked his way.
“I’m Trenton Steele, and this is my son’s house.”
“Okay, Mr. Steele. But you’ll have to park here and walk the rest of the way.”
As soon as I got out of the car, the heat hit me like a slap in the face. The entire house was engulfed in flames. I was certain it was going to be a total loss. Daniel put his arm around my shoulders as we watched helplessly. The firemen were putting up a good fight, but I was sure it was for naught.
Michael approached us through the billowing smoke. I felt an immediate comfort from his presence. He had soot on his face. As he stopped in front of us a series of coughs racked his body. He stood next to me and placed his hand on my shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, Derrick. It looks like it’s going to be a total loss. Nothing will be recovered.”
“Thanks, Michael. Luckily, Daniel and I had moved most of my things after the murder of Robert Morse. I’m guessing whoever set the fire was hired to finish the job they began that night. I have no proof, but I think this has the hand of Lionel Hamilton all over it. He had quite extensive dealings, not only here but in other parts of the States as well. Any ideas as to how it started?”
“It’s too early to determine, Derrick. We do have a witness who saw someone exiting your property. Once the fire is extinguished, it’ll take the remnants several days to cool down enough so investigators can step in. Rest assured I’ll let you know anything as soon as I hear.”
“Thanks, Michael.”
“Sure, Derrick. I need to get back to work.”
After he left, I turned to my dad, Nathan, and Daniel. “Let’s go. There’s nothing more to see.”
We all climbed into the Cadillac and my father drove home in silence. My instincts were screaming that the fire was no accident. I was just as certain it was somehow the work of Lionel Hamilton. I was just thankful Daniel, Roman, and I hadn’t been there.
As Dad drove home, Nathan told him about the man from New York who had inquired about the detective position. He also told him about the two brothers from New York City who would be arriving in two days. My father agreed it was too much of a coincidence. He informed us he would add extra guards to the estate and the office later that morning.
I sat next to Daniel in the backseat in silence, thinking about the fire. I had to consider that it might not have had anything to do with Hamilton. If it wasn’t the work of one of Hamilton’s cronies, then who hated me enough they’d want to burn down my house? The only case I was currently working was Gordon’s. Before that, it was the VanHauser case. Was this tied to Gordon’s case? If the blackmailer had left a note in Gordon’s mailbox, it was a safe bet he was keeping an eye on the house. If that was the case, he might have seen Daniel and me visit Gordon. But how would he have known we were detectives unless he had followed us after we left Gordon’s? As for Vivian VanHauser, was it possible her husband had learned who I was? Maybe either he—or his young lover—had been angered enough to be moved to arson. He hadn’t hesitated to shoot at me the night he caught me spying on him—and he was a very powerful man in Los Angeles, one used to getting his own way.
That was when an even worse thought popped into my mind.
The fire had been started in the early-morning hours. Had the arsonist thought I was in the house? It wasn’t common knowledge I’d been staying at my parents’ estate for the past several weeks.
Was this an attempt on my life?
My first task when I returned home was to call Vivian. I needed to discover how much her husband knew. As with the Hamilton case, I would need to connect with Michael to determine which criminals, if any, that I’d helped put behind bars had recently been released or paroled. Once at the office, I would also research past cases to determine who might have a big enough grudge against me to want me dead.
It was a somber group that arrived home that morning. I went upstairs, showered, and fell asleep on my bed next to Daniel. When I woke, he was gone. I dressed and called Vivian. She answered on the second ring.
“Good morning, Vivian. This is Derrick Steele. I’m just calling to see how things are going.”
“Hello, Derrick. Things here are surprisingly good. Stanley has moved into another wing of the house, and he has agreed to a divorce. In fact, he’s being extremely cooperative. Our lawyers are working out the details. It will take several months, but it’s worth the wait to be a free woman. I owe it all to you, Derrick. To show my appreciation, I
mailed you a nice big check with a huge bonus.”
“That’s very generous of you, Vivian. Thank you. While I have you on the phone, I wanted to ask if Stanley somehow learned where the photograph came from?”
“Not to my knowledge. Why, did something happen?”
I didn’t want to alarm her about the fire, so I lied. “No, nothing has happened. I was just checking to see if you were safe.”
“Thanks, Derrick. I’ll give you a call when everything is final. Have a good day.”
“You too, Vivian.”
After hanging up with Vivian, I slipped out of the house unnoticed. I stopped and ate a hearty breakfast at one of my favorite diners, Bev & Leo’s. As I ate, I tried to focus on Gordon’s case, but my mind kept returning to one name: Warren Montgomery. My half-brother. The bastard son of my father and Angus O’Malley’s sister. Unknown to us all these years, now risen after the death of O’Malley. What did the man want? I was positive O’Malley’s letters to his nephew had outlined the wealth and status of my parents. Although I was not an attorney, I knew full well Warren could, and most likely would, make a claim on my father’s assets in the event of his death. Would he have any claims on my mother’s assets? As these thoughts swirled through my mind, I tried to focus on the list of suspects for Gordon’s case. When that failed, I began reviewing the names and information Nathan had compiled on potential new detective hires.
I topped off the meal with a bottle of sarsaparilla before heading to the office. I parked at the curb, and as I neared the office I saw a man standing on the front stoop, his back to me. I immediately drew my Walther PP.
“Can I help you with something?”
He turned faster than I had anticipated. A gun was holstered at his hip. It was the same man I’d caught snooping around the office; the same man Nathan had been interviewing.
“Raise your hands, mister, and don’t try anything, stupid or otherwise.”
He did as I requested, an annoying half smile playing about his lips. As I studied him, I got the uneasy feeling I knew this man. But that was impossible. I didn’t even know his name. “Good morning, Derrick. No need to be alarmed. I’m here to talk to you, not kill you.”
He even knew my name. So what, that wasn’t difficult to learn in this town. And then it was staring me in the face. Actually, it had slapped me across the face because I hadn’t recognized him.
It had to be Warren Montgomery.
I was staring at a younger version of my father. He was several inches taller than Nathan. His eyes were pale blue, as were my father’s, and his hair was jet black. He had my father’s nose and mouth, but there was a cruel set to his lips that my father’s lacked. This, plus the scowl behind his eyes, put me on guard. I could feel shades of Angus in this man.
He smiled and thrust out his hand, but I detected no warmth in either gesture.
“I’m Warren Montgomery.”
God, he even had my father’s voice. For a moment, I was unable to respond. It had been one thing to hear Dad talk about him last night. He had been imaginary, a mere thought, not a flesh and blood person. It was quite another thing to be face-to-face with the man. I finally found my voice.
“I’m aware of who you are. It’s obvious you know who I am as well. What can I do for you, Mr. Montgomery?”
I was unable to keep the coldness from my voice. It did not go unnoticed by Warren.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Derrick. I heard so much about you in the few letters I received from my Uncle Angus. Do you mind if we go inside and talk?”
Angus and I had not been the best of friends. I had to assume anything Angus shared with Warren had not been flattering.
“Not at all, Warren. Would you mind stepping off the stoop?”
I realized I still had my gun drawn. When I holstered it Warren lowered his hands.
“I understand your apprehension and suspicion, Derrick.” He smiled as he came down from the stoop. “I would feel the same way if I were in your position.”
I walked past him and through the front door. Betty was at her desk. I was glad to find neither Nathan nor Daniel were in. Betty gave me her condolences and asked if I needed anything. I told her I was fine.
When Warren asked what she was referring to, I told him it was none of his business. As he entered the office he looked around expectantly. His next statement added to my growing dislike of him.
“This is a nice office. Honestly, though, from what I heard of the Steele agency, I was expecting something a little more expensive and flashier. After all, we both know your family has the money.”
He followed me to my office and I closed the door behind us. His eyes seemed to take in everything around him, again as if he were gauging its worth or efficacy. My distrust of this man was growing by the minute.
Something in my face must have alerted him to the fact that he was not making a good first impression, for he switched gears.
“My apologies, Derrick. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain. From what Uncle Angus told me, this agency was famous for its integrity and the number of cases it successfully solved.”
Again, the mention of Uncle Angus. Was he going to address the fact that his Uncle Angus had been involved in a plot to kill me?
“Speaking of Uncle Angus, there’s no way I can apologize enough for what he tried to do to you and your family. I had no idea he was holding such a grudge. Most of our interaction was via letters, and those were sparse. The handful of times Uncle Angus did come to see us was always at Christmas. He always spoke highly of you and your family. Again, I honestly don’t know what pushed him over the edge.”
Something told me Warren knew more than he was letting on. I was betting that if Angus had not been killed in the gunfight at Lionel Hamilton’s, Warren would still have arrived in Los Angeles. I would also bet he’d have gone to work at Angus’s new detective agency. I put these thoughts aside and tried to paste a believable smile on my face.
“Again, I have to ask, how can I help you, Mr. Montgomery?”
A wisp of anger passed quickly over his face. The smile remained locked in place, although I noted a little twitch at the corner of the bottom lip—one that had not been there before. I would certainly need to keep my eyes on this one.
“Please, call me Warren. I just met with our father, Bo Walton, and my lawyer. I’m taking legal measures to change my last name to Steele. I have my birth certificate on which it states Trenton Howard Steele as my father. Your father has also invited me to the estate for a family dinner. He is checking with your mother on a date.”
I made no response to Warren’s short speech.
“Speaking of family, where is our brother, Nathan?”
“Nathan is out of the office, as is our other detective, Daniel McAllister.”
“Ah yes, Mr. McAllister. Before I came to Los Angeles, I read and heard good things about all three of you. You and Nathan are making quite a name for yourselves in this city. Daniel as well. I bet our father is very proud.”
There was an underlying tone in his voice that belied his words. As with his hollow gestures previously, something was not quite right with Warren Montgomery. He was a man who had an axe to grind. Or bury in my head.
“I have to admit, Warren, I’m surprised to see you here. Nathan and I just learned last night that our half-brother had surfaced. We haven’t even had a chance to absorb the news and here you are, on our doorstep!”
Warren interrupted smoothly.
“So, you knew you had a half-brother, yet you made no attempt to find him. One would think a strong curiosity would be paramount to being a detective. A good one, anyway.”
This time, the slight malice was right there on the surface. He eyed me boldly, daring me to take affront and thus possibly draw me into an argument. However, I was not going to be forced into anything with this man at this early stage in the game. And a game was certainly afoot. A dangerous one.
“Truth be told, Warren, we only found out about you
for the first time a few weeks ago. We were working on a murder case involving your uncle, Angus, when our father told us of his relationship with your mother, Maria. Since then, I haven’t had time to think about it or to consider looking into your whereabouts. From your apology regarding Angus, it’s evident you know I was kidnapped and almost killed.”
This time, he wasn’t so quick to hide his disapproving frown.
“Yes, the Lionel Hamilton case. How exciting and yet tremendously dangerous. So terrible the role Uncle Angus played in all that. I can’t say I ever knew the man that well. After I was born, Mother and I left the country for England and had very little contact with the family for several years. Not till she and my stepfather returned.”
“Is that where you were raised, Warren, in England?”
He hesitated a moment before answering, as if unwilling to share any personal information. “Only for a few years, till I was five. After my younger brother Benjamin was born, we moved back to the States. New York, to be exact. A year later my youngest brother, Calvin, was born.”
Benjamin and Calvin Montgomery. The two detective brothers from New York City. What the hell was this man up to? I began to wish Nathan was here with me.
“Benjamin and Calvin Montgomery are your brothers?”
“Yes, why?”
“They’ve already approached Nathan about working at the agency. Of course, he didn’t know who they were at the time.”
A look of anger appeared on Warren’s face, and was gone just as quickly.
“They acted prematurely. I told them I would handle all introductions. I guess you can’t fault their eagerness.”
What were these three brothers trying to pull here? Coming at the agency from two different directions. We would need to definitely be on the alert.
“May I bother you for a glass of water, Derrick?”
“I have something stronger, if you prefer.”
“While I’m not opposed to strong drink, it’s a little early for me. But you go ahead if you need to.”