Traces

by Paul Jr. Logan

  Perhaps he was mistaken in thinking she would have to save her money. If she won the lawsuit, she'll be set up for the rest of her life. And that wouldn’t be even close to what Amber has ever sent to her. She’s sending her money even after being dead, what a good little girl.

  - You'd better talk to a lawyer about that, Mrs. Davis, Herrmann said. He'll give you all the information you need. And if it’s needed I'll testify, of course.

  Mrs. Davis stood up and thoughtfully pinched her ass, adjusting her dress.

  - You're so kind, Inspector.

  The coffee stain had spread across the form and was beginning to dry.

  17

  If it was morning it was a very late one. However, I wanted to get a good night's sleep before visiting my dear friend Ruell again, and Heidi has the same opinion. Besides, Don Martin, who called shortly after our return, told us that old Craig was going to spend the night with a pretty girl, so there was no reason to hurry.

  So when we reached Ruell's mansion, it was long past 11:00. It had only been 24 hours since I have been here for the first time but things had changed a lot in that time.

  Somewhere in Seattle there was a guy willing to give a lot for Craig's head, of course, if it was first separated from the body. And even I had no doubt that Sam Cooper could easily find a few dozen comrades who would be happy to help him to take out the captain who had betrayed his men.

  Things were not that bad on the other flank. We did not have the exact information yet about the controlling hand behind the screen, we didn’t know who was Ruell's customer, but we were only missing a few touches. By morning, Don Martin was able to identify the owner of the apartment where the amorous Craig spent the night. And if I remember right, Alison Vaughn didn't get her share of the family bank according to her grandfather's will. If it’s true, then everything fell into place, and Rowan's release from the charges against him was no longer a hopeless venture.

  Martin walked Ruell neatly to his house, and we knew for sure we'd find the owner there. James opened the door for me.

  - My friend Craig's door is always open to me, I said, pushing him aside. Heidi followed me in.

  Craig Ruell was standing in the center of the living room, looking through the papers. He was wearing a wide robe, his hair was a mess. When he heard voices, he looked confusedly in our direction, yawned, and apologized.

  - I'm sorry to see you like this, Michael, he said. But, you didn't give me time to get dressed.

  Heidi followed me into the room, and she stood in front of his eyes.

  - I see you've brought out the heavy artillery, Michael, Ruell said. Something to drink?

  - Long night? I asked him, walking over to the fireplace.

  Suspicion flashed in his glance at me, but he calmed down quickly.

  - Sort of. You never introduced me to your beauty, Michael.

  - Heidi Moss, Ruell's hand dove down for a handshake, but he changed his mind quickly and brought Heidi's fingers to his lips, and kissed them.

  - I think you know my name, he smiled. I suppose that you dream of me at night... But what are you standing there? Make yourself at home, my home is your home.

  I sank down on the couch and Heidi followed. These low sofas can be extremely uncomfortable when your face is suddenly on the same level as your knees. But they do have one important advantage, and it's revealed when an attractive girl in a short skirt is sitting next to you.

  - I want to thank you for bringing Ceri home yourself, he said. Ruell folded the papers and carried them to the table at the other end of the living room. I'm talking about the girl you had a conversation with after you left me.

  I confess it was a little impromptu of mine. I wanted to see how you would behave in an unusual situation... Yes, the tears of your inconsolable friend made much of an impression on you. Would you have done the same to the old woman, Mrs. Davis?

  - I guess so.

  Ruell cautiously settled in front of us, his face twisted involuntarily. He fidgeted slightly in his seat, taking the most comfortable position.

  - Have you been sneaking oranges from the yard across the street again? I asked sympathetically. Letting him know I can be polite, too.

  Ruell looked at me questioningly.

  - These gardeners have a very unpleasant habit of loading their guns with salt, I explained.

  Heidi put her leg on her leg and distracted Ruell from our conversation.

  - You said I knew your name, she said. But you were wrong. I know both your names, Mr. Bradford.

  The smile continued to move up the tips of Craig Ruell's lips, but his eyes were fixed on Heidi, I knew he was tense inside.

  I took the paper out of my pocket and unfolded it.

  - Kieran Victor Bradford, born August twenty-fifth, 1961, in Huntington, Indiana, I read. Graduated from High School, enlisted in the Army in 1979. A few commendations for showing

  of bravery. Made captain in 1984. His last operation was in Panama and successfully completed.

  - Retired U.S. Army Sergeant Sam Cooper is anxious to talk to you, Heidi said.

  Craig Ruell stood up and walked to the window. He involuntarily folded his straightened palms and rubbed his nose with them.

  - He recognized you from the picture, I stood up, too, so he couldn't look down on me. And he asked me very much for an address.

  Craig Ruell cursed profanely, but I have to admit it in a low voice.

  - If this man can find you, Heidi said, not rising from the couch, you'll have something to talk to him about. Perhaps I could call him right now.

  - I was on a command mission, Ruell turned to us. That was a lame answer, but he needed something to counteract the blow while his brain was feverishly contemplating the situation. I was following orders. You can't pin any charges on me. The U.S. government has no claim against me.

  - Uncle Sam, maybe, I nodded. The one who walks around in a star-spangled hat. But there's another Uncle Sam a guy named Cooper.

  - You think I'm afraid of him?

  - Maybe you'll win in a sparring match, I shrugged. But the thing is, Sam Cooper isn't the only man who's ever served in the U.S. Army. A lot of them would be interested to hear the story of the nimble captain who in the line of duty led six American soldiers to a certain death.

  - Two of them survived, Ruell answered hoarsely.

  - And one of them was crippled for life, Heidi said.

  - Now he can only get around with the help of a wheelchair.

  - And what does our nimble captain do? I asked. He bought himself a mansion in Hollywood, wears two hundred-dollar shirts, and has a butler. A lot of guys back from Panama and the Persian Gulf and other resorts, would be interested to talk to you.

  Ruell stood with his back against the window sill and his arms were around it. His smile was beginning to gain life again, but the right corner of his mouth wasn’t moving, his face no longer looked so self-confident.

  - But you're not going to do it, his voice was beginning to calm down, too. Of course you're not going to do it. And why should you? All you have to do is just frighten me and make me do what you want me to do.

  Heidi got up and took a few steps toward him.

  - At eight o'clock this evening, she said stiffly.

  - Tonight. You will come to us and cooperate.

  Ruell hummed.

  - I told you before, I'm only playing the part of the executor. I don't have all the strings in my hands.

  - I heard that, I confirmed. The Vanguard. But it will be you.

  - Do you think they will kill him? Heidi asked.

  - No, I don't think so. They'll break a couple of ribs, maybe a leg. He won't be without a brain concussion, too. I don't know what part of his body they're going to do permanent damage to. Probably take out his eye. Or break his spine. Maybe they will castrate him. What do you think, Heidi?

  This may seem like a cheap talk out of a pompous novel. But Craig Ruell didn't think so. He served in the U.S. Army and managed to achieve th
e rank of captain. Under the damp leaves of the jungle, he had learned well what soldiers were capable of towards the enemy.

  And he was the enemy.

  Ruell staggered backward, but he didn't do it well, he got caught up against the window. The smile disappeared from his face before it could even blossom.

  - You can't ask of me more than I can give, he said. He obviously didn't want to fall into the hands of his ex-combatants. All the documents compromising young Vaughn, I've already handed over. If I give up this man's name, I'm finished.

  - It's bad to be cornered, Craig, I said sympathetically.

  - We need cooperation, Heidi said. By eight o'clock. you must bring everything you have. And be ready to do whatever we tell you to. You don't want Rowan Vaughn to be accused of murder, do you?

  - I don't think so.

  The question of time was the subject of a long discussion over breakfast. I insisted that we must get Ruell to act immediately and to bring a statement to be signed. Heidi thought it would be too dangerous. We risked tearing off the tops, leaving the carrot itself in the soil. The man behind him might just cut him off, and we'd be left with no leads. We didn't know what Alison Vaughn was capable of when someone gets in her way.

  So it was decided to leave Craig Ruell a semblance of freedom by scheduling the meeting for 8:00 p.m. He was no fool, and by that time he would have had time to calm down. With some luck, he would play on our side, and maybe Warren Vaughn would even give him a few thousands for his trouble. Being up against the wall, Ruell might be unpredictable and ruin our game. At least, that's what we thought that morning.

  - I hope you're not stupid enough, to try to escape, I warned him gently.

  - The old banker's got enough money and he can afford to keep you under the radar. In fact, you're in a mousetrap.

  That's exactly how he felt at that moment.

  When we left his mansion and got into the car, Heidi asked:

  - Do you think he noticed that we were tapping his phone?

  - It doesn't matter, I answered. Anyway, he's going to get in touch with Alison Vaughn or someone else anyway. And Martin's people are pretty good at looking after him.

  As we drove away from Ruell's house, I did not look to see if he was following us through the window, again.

  18

  Warren Vaughn's voice sounded worried.

  - You have to come right away, the banker said. And bring the evidence you were talking about.

  I put the phone in my other hand and said:

  - If something important has happened, you'd better tell me about it right now. Then I can tell you what to do. Well?

  The banker grunted. If I hadn't heard his voice just now, I might have thought I was talking to a duck.

  - Some hysterical woman is here, he complained. Says she's that girl's mother, you know. I got another chance to admire the richness of her vocabulary. She says she's gonna sue me in some civil court because my nephew killed her daughter. You need to come down here right away and shove that evidence, you were talking about yesterday, in her nose.

  That's it. And I'd forgotten about the fact that we're up to our necks in evidence. Now we had to figure out the most important of all.

  - Is she alone?

  - No, there's an otter with her, says she's her lawyer.

  I looked up and saw Heidi. She was walking towards me, stirring with a spoon in her coffee. I nodded at her at the parallel machine and asked:

  - What's the lawyer's name, Mr. Vaughn?

  - What's the difference, the banker answered grudgingly. You just have to come, that's all.

  - Mr. Vaughn, I tried to make my voice sound as gently as possible. What was the woman's name?

  The receiver went silent, and I heard muffled voices. Heidi lowered herself in her chair and put the receiver to her ear.

  - Patricia Ogden, said the banker. So you're coming?

  - We're on our way, I hung up. Heidi did the same.

  - I guess I'll have to knock out the old lady after all, I said, dialing the number. I think we'll have something to do while we're waiting to hear from Mr. Ruell.

  As soon as there's a murder or any other equally noteworthy event, people start flying in from all sides, ready to help you fight your greed. One of the first people to smell it are the lawyers, and this lady was one of them.

  I have met Patricia Ogden several times in and out of court. And I must admit, I didn’t enjoy meeting her in none of those places. She was of medium height and surprisingly unattractive, and her not-so-fat cheeks further marred her face. She was known as one of the most intrusive and unscrupulous attorneys on the west coast. She would never defend the interests of a no-name North Texas woman if it wasn't for the name Vaughn, who smelled like money from a mile.

  As our car drove beneath the lush trees that adorned the way to the Vaughn mansion, I wondered if Patricia Ogden was capable of thwarting such an elaborate plan to destroy Craig Ruell.

  The door was opened by a short man with glasses and long, wavy hair. He introduced himself as Vaughn the Younger, and from the expression on his face I could not understand his feelings about his cousin's misfortune.

  Warren Vaughn measured the hallway with broad steps and got beside us.

  - You have to put these women in their place, he said sharply. They're talking nonsense. That hysterical woman demanded five million dollars from me because my nephew allegedly killed her daughter. My God, is that a way to do business? She's capable of selling her dead daughter's body. If she had a hundred for every pound of corpse she'd have started dismembering it long ago.

  - Calm down, Father, Wade said in a low, firm voice. You won't get anywhere by getting nervous.

  - Did you bring the evidence? the banker asked. It seemed to me that he pictured it as a rabbit, which I would carry in my inside pocket and pull it out by the ears at the right moment.

  - We won't make anything public until the time is right, Heidi said. If they want to, let them sue us. They won't get away with it.

  - You're mistaken, Miss Moss, a harsh voice came from across the room. Patricia Ogden, the white moth, appeared on the stage herself. She was followed by a tall, elderly woman with a tasteless beanie on her head.

  - Mrs. Davis, Patricia said. This is Michael Hammond and Heidi Moss, whom Mr. Vaughn hired to protect his nephew.

  She likes to twist other people's names around. There's something of an inferiority complex.

  I stepped closer to them, and raised my hand languidly. Patricia Ogden abruptly held out hers, and her fingers clenched the air convulsively. My hand, in a graceful gesture circled the room.

  - It's a lovely house, isn't it, Mrs. Davis?

  Patricia's hand froze in the air and dropped abruptly. The blood drained from her face. I've wanted to do that to her for a long time.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Wade smiling.

  - My client insists on her rights, Patricia said sharply. And I'll do my best to protect her.

  - Are you demanding five million dollars? Heidi asked.

  - I know you're a member of the law club, Miss Moss, Patricia Ogden answered caustically, but I'm not sure you're experienced enough to take on a case like this. I don't recommend you, Mr. Vaughn, to use her as your attorney.

  Just when we were getting somewhere with this case, they got to the Vaughns from the other side. We should've nailed that lady before she ripped the banker to shreds.

  - I know you don't work anywhere, Mrs. Davis, Heidi said. I always enjoy watching her circumcise men, but it's much more interesting when she gets into a verbal duel with a woman.

  - My client is of advanced age and suffers from peculiar diseases, Patricia said. Anyway, I don't see the point to discuss it here. Mr. Vaughn, are you willing to settle this right now, or do we have to go to court?

  - If you give them the money, Dad," Wade said firmly, you'll be admitting that Rowan is guilty of this murder.

  - Well, of course he's guilty! Mrs. Davis exclaimed.
/>   - You've just witnessed a slanderous statement from Mrs. Davis, said Heidi, softly. She accused your nephew of murder. Now he can sue her and...

  - My client meant no such thing, Patricia said sharply, you can discuss it with your nephew and decide on a lawsuit Heidi didn't seem to hear her. However, we've strayed from the subject. Mrs. Davis. So you're not working anywhere. I'm also aware that you don't have any savings.

  - I don't see the point in continuing this conversation, Patricia Ogden stated. I'm waiting for your answer, Mr. Vaughn.

  The banker pressed his lips, but did not answer.

  - Which means, Heidi's voice flowed softly across the room, that for the last six and a half years, you, Mrs. Davis, have been living off the money your daughter has been earning through prostitution.

  - How dare you! The old woman swung her hand, but Patricia took her back to keep her client from continuing her escapade.

  - Now we can sue you for defamation, she said. Miss Amber Davis was a decent girl and...

  - Don't be so naive, I interjected. I could find a dozen witnesses to confirm that Amber was a prostitute. Can't you understand that?

  Patricia Ogden turned to me, her mouth open, but she still hadn't figured out what to say to that. I glanced over her shoulder and saw several cars pulling up. Heidi said abruptly:

  - And how would you like the headlines in the newspapers to be, for example, "Mother of a prostitute"?

  - Or "Mother acted as her daughter's pimp"? I smirked.

  - What are they talking about? Mrs. Davis inquired, with concern.

  - That's not going to happen, Patricia Ogden said confidently. We're holding a press conference right now to tell the truth about your daughter. The public will be on our side.

  - You want to tell your side of the story, counselor? I asked. It's not reasonable to rush your story to the press. The first impression would be in your favor.

  The butler slipped out of the side door and approached the banker and quietly uttered a few words. Warren Vaughn looked at me questioningly, and I nodded.