Even the Wicked

by Lawrence Block

Page 30

 

  "Where would you find a list like that?"

  "Youd have to compile it, which is what someone very likely did once the autopsy results confirmed cyanide as the cause of Adrians death. We can be sure his own name didnt show up on the list, or wed have read headlines about it. Hed have thought of that. If he needed to show ID in order to buy cyanide, hed have made sure it was in another name. "

  "And hed have felt safe enough using Allen Johnson again. "

  "Unless hed already destroyed it, yes. I dont imagine hed be overly concerned about someone putting the two Johnsons together, one from a hotel in Omaha and the other from a poison-control ledger in New York. "

  "No. "

  He excused himself, and came back saying how lucky he was-there had been no one lurking in the bathroom with a garrote.

  "Though I wouldnt have made his list," he said, "if only because he already had a criminal lawyer on it. Hell of an eclectic list he came up with, wouldnt you say?"

  "Very much so. "

  "A sexual psychopath, a Mafia boss, a right-to-lifer, and a black rabble-rouser. All along everybodys been trying to find the common denominator. Youd think it would become apparent when you know who did it, but its still hard to spot. "

  "He only really needed a reason for the first one," I said, "and he had that. There he was, brooding over his role in Richie Vollmers release, and McGraws column stirred him to action. At that point he very likely intended just to commit one single act of murder. "

  "And then what happened?"

  "My guess is he found out he liked it. "

  "Got a thrill out of it, you mean? Middle-aged lawyer all of a sudden finds out hes got the soul of a psychopath?"

  I shook my head. "I dont imagine he suddenly blossomed as a thrill killer. But I think he found it satisfying. "

  "Satisfying. "

  "I think so, yes. "

  "Killing people who had it coming, making the world a better place for it. That what you mean?"

  "Something like that. "

  "I suppose it could be satisfying," he said. "Especially for a man whos under a death sentence himself. What can I do to improve the world before I leave it? Well, I can take that son of a bitch off the boards. There, I may not live forever, but at least I outlived you, you bastard. "

  "Thats the idea. The first ones Richie. The second ones because he wants to do it again, so he picks someone else the law cant lay a finger on. Hes had some exposure to Patsy Salerno, enough to form a strong negative opinion of the man. "

  "And after that?"

  "I would think the motives thinned out as he went along. Numbers three and four were similarly untouchable. Roswell Berry had clearly incited acts that led to the deaths of physicians performing abortions, and the law couldnt lay a glove on him. I dont suppose there was a personal element in it, unless Adrian knew one of the doctors or had strong feelings on the subject of abortion rights. "

  "His sister," Ray said suddenly.

  "His sister? I didnt think he had any brothers and sisters. "

  "He told me about her once," he said. "A long time ago, back when he used to put away a lot more than one drink a day. He liked those single-malt scotches even then, though I couldnt tell you the brand. " He grinned suddenly. "I can remember the taste, though. Isnt that a surprise? We were both about half lit and he told me about his sister. She was two or three years older than Adrian. She was away at college when she died, and Adrian was in his last year of high school. "

  I thought I knew the answer, but I asked the question anyway. "What did she die of?"

  "Blood poisoning," he said. "One of those infections that goes through you like wildfire. That was all they told him at the time. It was years later before he got the whole story from his mother. She wouldnt tell him until after his father died, and of course you can figure it out now. "

  "Yes. "

  "Septicemia following a back-street abortion. Did it transform Adrian into a crusader for abortion rights? Not that youd notice. Maybe he wrote out a check once in a while, or voted for or against a candidate because of his stand on the issue, but he didnt sign a lot of petitions and open letters, and I never saw him out on Fifth Avenue picketing St. Patricks. "

  "But when it came time to draw up a little list-" He nodded. "Sure. Why not? This ones for you, Sis. " He stifled a yawn. "Funny," he said. "I never got tired when I drank. It was always the easiest thing in the world to talk the night away. "

  "Ill go home and let you get some sleep. "

  "Sit down," he said. "Were not through yet. Anyway, all we need is a little more coffee. "

  * * *

  "You dont even begin to have what you could call proof," Ray Gruliow said. "Its far too little for an indictment, let alone a conviction. "

  "I realize that. "

  "All of which is moot, admittedly, given that the defendant is no longer among the living. " He settled back in his seat. "And you werent trying to sell it to a jury anyway, were you? Im the guy you want to buy it. "

  "And?"

  "And I suppose Im sold. "

  "You could turn up enough evidence," I said, "once you had a ton of guys with badges looking for it. Print up a few dozen photos of Adrian and show them to people at airports and hotels and youll find someone who remembers him. Pull NYNEXs records of local calls made from his home and office phones. He probably made most of his calls from pay phones, but there may be some calls that tie in with some of Wills activities. Go through his apartment and his office with the kind of detailed search I didnt have the time or authority for and who knows what kind of hard evidence youll find. "

  "So whats the question?"

  "The question is what do I do with this sleeping dog. "

  "Traditionally, youre supposed to let them lie. "

  "I know. "

  "Adrians dead, and Wills officially retired. He said so in his last letter. What did he do, drop that in the mail on his way out of the courtroom?"

  "It looks like it. "

  "Wrote the letter, put a stamp on it, carried it around with him. Then his trials wrapped up, with his client conveniently copping a plea, and its time to throw in the towel. So he mails the letter and goes home and plays out the last scene. "

  "Calls me first," I said.

  "Calls you first and says he wishes he had more time. Then goes out and makes sure his bodyguards watching when he takes his last drink and kisses the carpet. That business about the wrong zip code on the letter to the News. You think that was to delay the letter?"

  I shook my head. "I dont think so. You couldnt know it would work. With the volume of mail the paper gets, theres ample opportunity for some clerk somewhere along the way to spot the letter and redirect it into the right slot. I just think he got the zip wrong. "

  "I guess he had things on his mind. " He turned to me, his eyes probing mine. "You know what I think? I think you have to take what youve got and hand it to the cops. "

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Because otherwise theyll be running down false trails and barking up wrong trees for months on end. How many men do you suppose theyve got assigned to Will?"

  "No idea. "

  "A substantial number, though. "

  "Obviously. "

  "Well, you could let them waste their time," he said, "on the assumption that it would keep them from making trouble for somebody else, but I dont even know if thats true. Who knows how many lives theyre going to turn inside out looking for Will?" He yawned. "But theres a more basic consideration. Whos your client? How do you best serve his interests?"

  "The only client Ive had has been Adrian. "

  "Well, you havent resigned and he hasnt fired you. Id say hes still your client. "

  "According to that line of reasoning, I ought to let it lie. "

  He shook his head. "Youre missing something, Matt. Why did Adrian hire you?"

  "I wouldnt take any payment for advising him on how to go about protecting himself. I suppose
this was his way of paying me for my time. "

  "What did he engage you to do?"

  "To investigate the whole case. I told him I couldnt be expected to accomplish much. " I remembered something. "He alluded to my tendency to stay with a case. Stubbornness, you could call it. "

  "You could indeed. Dont you see? He wanted you to solve it. He didnt want to leave loose ends. He wanted to baffle everybody, he wanted the audience holding its breath when the curtain went down. But then, after a decent interval, he wants a chance to come out and take a bow. And thats where you come in. "

  I thought about it. "I dont know," I said. "Why not just leave a letter to be delivered a certain amount of time after his death? As far as that goes, lets remember that were talking about a multiple murderer with delusions of grandeur. Do you really think you can read his mind?"

  "Throw all that out, then. The hell with what he wanted and what he didnt want. Youre a detective. Its who you are and its what you do. Thats why you stayed with it and thats why you solved it. "

  "If Ive solved it. "

  "And thats why youll sit down with your friend Durkin tomorrow and tell him what youve got. "

  "Because its who I am and what I do. "

  "Uh-huh. And Im afraid youre stuck with it. "

  16

  The phone rang the next morning while we were having breakfast. Elaine answered it, and it was TJ, checking to see if she wanted him to spell her at the shop. She talked with him, then said, "Hang on," and passed me the phone.

  "It aint the peach pits," he said. "You got to crack the pits, and theres this kernel inside. "

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Talkin bout cyanide, Clyde. Like he put in the scotch bottle? I cant say if you could kill yourself eatin peach kernels, but there was a dude did it with apricots. Didnt eat but fifteen or twenty of em, and that was enough. "

  "Apricot kernels, you mean. "

  There was a pause, and I could picture his eyes rolling. "If you could die from eatin fifteen or twenty apricots, dont you think theyd make em put a warnin on the package? Dude cracked open the pits, ate the kernels, an that was his last meal. "

  "And it was suicide?"

  "Couldnt find out for sure. Could be he was tryin to cure cancer. Theres this drug they make outta apricot kernels, and youve got people swearin it works and people swearin it dont. Laetrile? Might be I aint pronouncin it right. "

  "Ive heard of it. "

  "So this dude who ate the kernels, could be he was on a do-it-yourself Laetrile project. But we was wonderin if you could kill yourself that" way, eatin peach pits, an if fifteen or twentys all it takes, I guess the answers yes, at least with apricots. Assumin you fool enough to try. "

  "Somehow I dont think Adrian got cyanide from apricot kernels. "

  "No, but that leaves a whole lot of other ways to get it. Turns out theres all kinds of industrial uses for that shit. " He went on to tell me some of them. "So his name might turn up on a list," he said, "or Allen Johnsons might, but they might not. On account of theres so many different ways to get it. "