Miles interrupted. “Are you talking about the same Richard Conrad, who used to be with the D.A.’s office?”
“The one and the same. He looked like he was going to be sick the entire time I questioned him.” He sighed and put his feet on the desk, causing another series of ominous sounding creaks. “I think we should look into all of them, but concentrate on Masson and Conrad.”
His partner smiled brightly. “Conrad, well I’ll be. I wondered what happened to him. He used to think he was such a hotshot.” He pulled out a plastic bag from behind his back. “Maybe we shouldn’t disregard the movie star yet. Take a look at this.” In the transparent bag was a small, dainty twenty-two caliber revolver.
Lawson whistled. “Where did you get that?”
“In the dumpster behind the hotel kitchen. I’m going to the lab to have it checked out right now.”
When they came an hour later, the results were definite. “I have good news and bad news,” said Miles as he put down the receiver. “The good news is that the ballistics checks out. The bullets that killed Brandon came from this gun. The bad news is that the gun was not registered.”
“Why did I know you were going to say that?” asked Lawson.
* * *
Chapter 28
Richard walked into his apartment and headed straight for the bar. He poured himself a double scotch and swallowed it in one shot.
“You look like you have a problem,” a voice said from behind him.
Richard spun around, his heart already hammering in his chest. “Mother! What the hell are you doing here?” he asked angrily.
Anne Turner laughed. “What kind of a welcome is that?”
Richard slammed his glass on the bar top. “How did you get in?”
“Now, now, don’t get excited. I told the superintendent that I am your mother and he very nicely let me in. I’ve been waiting for hours. Where’ve you been?” She strode over and using her son’s glass, poured herself a drink. “Hmm, good stuff,” she said and turned back to face him after a sip. “I just heard the good news.”
“What good news is that?”
“Oh Richard, sometimes I wonder about you.” She smiled brightly, exposing her perfect teeth. “The news about Brandon, of course. We don’t have to worry about the takeover anymore, do we?”
Richard nodded wearily. “That’s right. The takeover bid is dead, as dead as Brandon.”
Anne laughed and swallowed another gulp of her drink. “Too bad Alex and his wife didn’t die in the car crash at the same time, isn’t it?” She walked across to the leather sofa and collapsed elegantly, draping her arms along the back. “Then,” she continued thoughtfully. “You could have broken any will Alex had left, proven your birthright, and inherited everything.”
“There’s no point in theorizing, Mother. Alex is still alive.”
Anne leaned forward as the thought came to her. “You know, that is not a bad idea. You are, after all, Vice-President of Legal Affairs. I think you should suggest to Alex that he draw up a new will. Then, when it’s ready for signing, all you have to do is make sure that he reads the original copy and have him sign a few, let’s say, slightly improved copies, and destroy the original.” She threw up her arms in victory. “Don’t you think that’s brilliant?”
“Don’t you think someone might wonder why the lawyer who wrote the will got everything?”
Anne stuck out her lower lip in a childish pout and thought quickly. “I’ve got it,” she exclaimed. “You could always argue that Alex knew all along that you were his son, that this was a secret between the two of you. The fact that he took you into the company would add weight to your claim. Nobody could argue differently.”
“This is a stupid conversation. Alex is alive and will stay alive for a long time to come.”
“Who knows? Accidents do happen. And don’t forget, the man is over fifty, works like a dog, and has a heart condition. I think you should take my idea very seriously.” Anne smiled sweetly. “Very, very seriously.”
* * *
Five days after the accident, the doctor removed Brigitte’s catheter and gave her a brief examination. “I think you can go home in another few days,” he said and scribbled on her chart. “You are one very lucky lady,” he said as he left the room. “By the way, there’s an inspector waiting to see you outside. I’ll tell him that you can see him now.”
Lucky, thought Brigitte. What luck? For months, she had carried out what she thought was the perfect plan. Oh Gerald, if only you had sold your shares when you were supposed to. Since the news of Brandon’s murder, the stock had fallen by eighteen percent, and now the police were here. How could everything go so wrong?
There was a knock at the door and a moment later it opened. “Brigitte Ivanov?”
Brigitte looked at the beefy looking man and her heart sank. “Yes?”
He walked over to her bed and pulled out a pile of cancelled checks from his briefcase. “I’m Inspector Lawson and I’m looking into William Brandon’s murder. Could you tell me why, in the last two months of his life, the victim wrote you checks for a total amount of nearly two million dollars?”
Brigitte explained everything. It took almost fifteen minutes, and every time Inspector Lawson tried to speak, she ignored him and kept talking. After he left, Brigitte was exhausted. There’s no use pretending anymore.
* * *
After his interview with Brigitte Ivanov, Lawson hurried over to the hospital coffee shop to meet with Larry Miles. Larry was already seated and was devouring a jelly doughnut.
“Hey, you won’t believe what I just found out,” he exclaimed with his mouth still full. “Listen to this! Richard Conrad is Alex Ivanov’s son.”
Lawson looked at the document Miles handed him proudly. It was a birth certificate for Richard Ivanov.
“He was born out of wedlock to one Anne Turner, and was later adopted by her husband, Harry Conrad. That is why his surname is Conrad.” He leaned over and crossed his arms on the table. “Nobody at Power Properties mentioned any of this, did they?”
Lawson shook his head. “Nope.”
“Wanna bet even Ivanov isn’t aware of it?”
After Miles had left, Lawson realized he had been so excited with his partner’s news, he had forgotten to tell him about his interview with Brigitte Ivanov. Damn! I can’t believe I forgot to tell him this one.
* * *
Alex was sitting up in his hospital bed, his face rigid with anger as he barked his orders to the doctor. “Don’t tell me to relax. I am furious and I have every right to be. I’m fine and I want to be released now. I have a business to run and unless you do as I tell you, I will sue you and the hospital for any losses my company suffers while you are holding me here against my will. Do I make myself clear?”
Doctor Applebaum, a short thin man with a round balding head, nodded. “Perfectly clear, Mr. Ivanov. Now if you will just calm yourself, I’ll get your release forms ready immediately.” He turned and walked out. Before the door could close completely, it swung open again and a deliveryman walked in.
“And who the hell are you?” shouted Alex.
“Are you Alex Ivanov?” he asked unnecessarily. Alex’s face was almost as well known as the United States President.
“Yes.”
“This is for you. Sign here.” The young man handed him an envelope and walked out.
Alex tore open the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of paper. For a moment he thought his eyes were wrong. This can’t be. No, this has to be some kind of mistake. It is just not possible. Brigitte is suing me for a divorce!
He climbed out of bed and into his slippers and bathrobe. Seconds later, he was hurrying down the hall when Louise, his day nurse, stopped him. “Where do you think you’re going like that?”
“I’m going to see my wife,” he shot back.
She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back toward his room. “Oh, no you’re not. You can’t walk out of this ward.”
“I want t
o see my wife, and I want to see her now,” he yelled.
“Fine, but you’ll have to go by wheelchair,” she answered.
“I’m not crippled, dammit! I can walk.”
“I’m sure you can, but you have to abide by hospital rules.” She hurried across the hall and reappeared moments later with the chair.
I’m not a fucking invalid, thought Alex morosely. I’d rather die than be stuck in one of those.
There was no arguing Louise when her mind was made up. She helped Alex into the chair and smiled. “Now, which floor is your wife on? I’ll push.”
Minutes later, Alex wheeled into Brigitte’s room. Brigitte closed the book she had been reading. “Hello, Alex,” she said calmly.
“I would like to speak to my wife privately,” he said. The nurse left the room and closed the door discreetly behind her.
When they were alone, Brigitte spoke. “Did you get the papers?” For some reason, she was feeling none of the nervousness she had anticipated. Instead, she was calm and sure of herself.
“Why?” he asked hoarsely.
“How can you even ask?” The calm she had felt a moment ago was gone. Now she was angry. “After all the affairs you’ve had, you dare to ask me why?”
“But that was a long time ago…”
“How dare you lie to me? You’ve had so many affairs I don’t think you can even remember them all. Did you really think I didn’t know?” She laughed. “You gave them the same Fred pendant you gave me for our tenth wedding anniversary.”
“B-but…I’ve changed. All of that is over. You must believe me. I haven’t had an affair since—”
“Since David died!” Brigitte shouted, and suddenly she was calm again. “David, whom you forced to take swimming lessons, David, whom you killed, just as surely as you killed my career; just as surely as you killed any love I ever felt for you.” She paused again and took a deep breath. “Let it go, Alex. It’s over. I am divorcing you.”
Alex’s expression twisted in pain.
Before he could say anything, Brigitte continued. “Oh, and one more thing. I might as well tell you myself, before you hear it from the police…”
“Wh-what?”
“I was the accomplice working with William Brandon for the takeover. I remembered how you told me that he was in real estate development and how he hated you. I’m the one who thought up the takeover and I approached him. Every one of the properties you bought in Atlantic City, he bought before you and sold to you at double, triple, and quadruple the price he paid. My share was ten percent and the satisfaction of screwing you the same way you screwed with my heart.” With that, she opened her book and began to read. “Goodbye, Alex.”
Brigitte half-expected Alex to beg her not to do this, but all he did was jerk a little. “Arrrh…” he gurgled.
Brigitte looked up. “Oh, my God!” She reached for the call button and pushed it frantically.
* * *
Chapter 29
When Anne Turner heard the news, she became frantic. She tried desperately to reach Richard at Power Properties, but he had already left. I just hope he was smart enough to take my advice. She kept calling Richard’s apartment all evening, until finally, around midnight, he answered.
“I just heard the news about Alex. Did you make out his new will like I told you?”
“Alex is still alive, mother.”
“I know! I know! But did you make out his new will?”
Richard hesitated. “Yes, yes I did.”
She let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank God for that. I wouldn’t want Alex to die without his new will.”
* * *
Alex’s second heart attack was more severe than the first, and for a week he remained in intensive care, hooked up to a heart monitor. After his condition had stabilized, he underwent a double bypass operation which, the doctors reassured him, would give him the heart of a twenty-five-year-old.
* * *
After hearing the news that Alex would recover, Brigitte had been so overcome with relief that she could not stop crying.
“You have nothing to feel guilty about,” said Gerald once again. “It isn’t as though you tried to kill him. You simply told him that you were leaving him. How were you supposed to know he would have a heart attack?”
Brigitte was lying in her hospital bed, her face buried in her hands. “That’s not all I told him,” she said through her tears. “I told him that he killed David.”
Gerald tried to put his arms around her but she pushed him away. “Sweetheart, I can’t say that I blame you for that. I’m just surprised you never exploded before.”
“There’s something else. Something I haven’t told you.” Brigitte watched Gerald’s face as she spoke. “I also told him that I was the one who gave Brandon all the information.”
Gerald looked at her in disbelief.
“I was behind the takeover bid, Gerald. It was me.”
* * *
Lawson walked into his office and tapped on the window to Miles’ office next door. A moment later, Miles walked in carrying two Styrofoam cups of coffee. “So, what have you found out?”
Lawson was thoughtful for a moment while he tore the cover off his cup. “The only person who could have done it is Conrad. It seems he left the gala with the Ivanovs at nine o’clock, and according to the doorman, he refused a lift with them. He wanted to walk back to his apartment. It would have taken him no more than ten minutes to get to the Plaza and ride up the elevator, or walk up the stairs to Brandon’s room.”
“Do you think he really did it?”
Lawson shrugged. “We know that the movie queen, Masson, and McGregor were at the party until after midnight. Alex and his wife were on their way home, then that damned wreck. There’s nobody else, unless it was a professional hit.” He shook his head. “And this was no professional hit. It has all the marks of an amateur.” He paused again and took a sip of his coffee. “We could build a pretty good case on circumstantial evidence.”
Miles nodded slowly. “There’s only one problem. You remember him in court. He was one hell of lawyer. You can bet your ass that he’ll build himself one hell of a defense and if all we have is circumstantial evidence, we won’t stand a chance of nailing the bastard.”
* * *
The interrogation room was familiar to Richard. It was small, only eight feet by ten, furnished with a narrow table and a few chairs. He knew that the mirror on the wall was a one-way window and he wondered briefly if anyone was watching now.
Of course someone is.
He had witnessed countless suspects interrogated in the same room during his years with the D.A. Nevertheless, being on this side of the table was not nearly as pleasant. He wiped his moist palms on his trousers and willed his heart to calm. He’d be damned before he showed any concern. He forced himself to sit back and appear relaxed.
“I could insist on my lawyer being here,” he said with a smile that belied his tremulous position. “I don’t have to answer any of your questions.”
“We’re aware of that,” answered Miles. “But on the other hand, why would you need a lawyer? We’re only trying to solve a case and we think you could help us.”
Lawson pointed to the tape recorder. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Richard shook his head.
Lawson waited until the tape was spinning. “Why didn’t you ever tell Ivanov that you are his son?”
Richard felt his heart skip a beat. “No comment,” he replied.
Lawson watched for a reaction. “You say you went straight home after you left the gala that evening. Is there any way you can prove that?”
“No comment,” replied Richard again, his heart hammering in his chest.
Miles pulled a small box from across the table and opened it. “Did you ever see this gun before?” he asked as he pulled it out.
“No comment,” answered Richard once again. He knew the gun, and he knew it well.
* * *
Anne Turner r
eclined at her makeup table giving a last coat of polish to her nails when the doorbell rang. “One moment,” she called out as she walked to the door, blowing on her fingers. “Oh, it’s you,” she said.
Richard pushed her aside and strode in. “You killed him, didn’t you?”
Anne tossed her hair with a shake of her head and looked at him innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play games with me, Mother. You killed Brandon, didn’t you? I was just questioned by the police and they showed me the murder weapon.”
For a split second she looked frightened. Then just as quickly, she recovered. “What did you tell them?” she asked.
“Nothing yet, but let me tell you something. If I could figure it out, so can the police.”
Anne remained impassive. “Well, then I suggest you be my alibi. Otherwise, I could claim that you were my accomplice.”
“You bitch!”
Anne looked at her son in bewilderment and shook her head. “I really don’t understand you at all. Brandon was going to ruin everything. I only did what I had to do to protect you. If Brandon had taken over Power Properties before Alex died, we would have lost everything.”
Richard stared at his mother in horror as the realization hit him. “Jesus Christ! You’re planning to kill Alex, aren’t you?”
Anne laughed. “Sometimes you really are slow,” she answered. “Did you think I would wait until that bastard died of natural causes?” She strolled to the sofa and patted the seat beside her. “I’ve got it all planned, and this is what we’ll do.”
Scorpio Series Boxed Set Page 42