The Tycoon Murderer

by Maureen Driscoll

  “Neither am I when it comes to you,” said Barker. “Promise me. If you hear from his guy again, you’ll tell me.”

  She considered it. “Matt wouldn’t like it.”

  Barker grinned. “Which makes it an even better idea. “Promise me.”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  “Now, what does this guy have on you?”

  “He’s holding my parentage over my head. He claims to know my father was one of my mother’s clients when she was still a prostitute. She’s worked her whole life to put that behind her. If the truth came out it’d kill her. It wouldn’t do Matt any good, either.”

  Barker was careful in his response. “Your mother has manipulated you your whole life to get you to do her bidding.”

  “You think I don’t know that? You think a day goes by when I don’t wish I could have married where my heart was and not where my mother’s pocketbook wanted me to?” She turned away and dabbed at her eyes.

  Barker gave her a handkerchief, taking care not to let their hands touch. “You know I can’t stand to see you cry. I’m not worried about Farnsworth, but I know it’d be difficult for your mother. How much did you pay? The full two grand?”

  She shook her head. “Only a thousand. It was hard to get my hands on even that much. I hope it’ll be enough to satisfy him for now.”

  “And did you see anyone when you dropped it off?”

  “No, I made the drop, then got back here as quickly as possible.”

  “Leave this to me. I’ll figure out what needs to be done.”

  “But if Mikey and I are being blackmailed, and possibly Matt, do you think others are, as well?”

  “I don’t know,” said Barker with grim determination. “But I intend to find out.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Agent Barker gathered the guests after Deputy Irwin and his men left. “It has come to my attention that some of you are being blackmailed. I’d like to know how many of you have received letters asking for money.”

  For a moment, the guests simply looked around the room, not saying anything. Then Mikey spoke up. “I’m being blackmailed, as you know. I’d just dropped off some loot when I got shot.”

  “I also received a blackmail notice,” said Constance quietly. “And I’m worried. If Mr. Corrigan was shot dropping off his payment, does that mean I’m in danger, as well? Is there some sort of madman out to kill us?”

  “Someone is blackmailing you?” asked David. “You should have told me.”

  “It’s embarrassing and I hoped you wouldn’t find out.”

  “I got one, too,” said Dora. “I don’t know how anyone found out, other than I guess everybody’s got something they’d like to hide.”

  “I know I do,” said Lawrence, “though I’ve decided I’m not going to hide anymore and I’m not going to pay. I’m a homosexual and I don’t think it should be a crime. I also don’t think it’s much of a secret.”

  “I won’t arrest you,” said Barker quietly. “But I’d be careful who you tell. People do get locked up for that, even though I don’t think they should.”

  “Thank you,” said Lawrence. “Jail I can handle. I’ve been there once or twice already. But when this becomes known it’ll be the end of my career, I fear. There are those who would never go to a play if they knew it was written by someone like me.”

  “Well, then they wouldn’t go to the theater much, would they?” asked Lucy. “Broadway is filled with queers and most of them are some of the best friends a girl could have. I should know. I never had no trouble with a man who didn’t want to get in my silk drawers. And that’s why I’m being blackmailed. You see, I was in a couple pictures where I wasn’t totally dressed. They were stag films, even though I don’t know why they call ‘em that. It’s not like there were any deer in ‘em. I’m sorry, Mikey. I shoulda told you.” She turned to her boyfriend and looked genuinely uncertain of what his reaction would be.

  “I hate to break it to you, kid, but I already knew,” said Mikey, as he pulled her to him and kissed her. “Why do you think I picked you up at that joint that night? I’d already seen your picture a hundred times. I wanted to meet the dame who bewitched me on screen.”

  “That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” she said, as she kissed him back.

  “I also got a letter,” said Kurt. “I don’t want to talk about what was in it, other than it concerns a secret baby.”

  Tanner leaned into him. “Shhhhhhh.”

  “Did you get a letter, Remington?” asked Farnsworth.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “How interesting. It’s your party, your most prominent guests have blackmail letters, but you don’t. I’d say that’s rather convenient. What about you, Miss Matthews?”

  “No, I don’t have one, either.”

  “And I’d say that’s rather suspicious.”

  Agent Barker nodded. “I find it suspicious, as well.”

  “It’s not suspicious in the least,” said Josie. “How would a blackmailer know how to find me? I didn’t even know I’d be here until I showed up.”

  “And why is that, again?” asked Farnsworth.

  “Perhaps, she’s being blackmailed about her stay at the sanitarium,” said Constance, “and she’s too embarrassed to tell us.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” said Josie. “You already know I was there. The only other thing I ever did which was even slightly controversial was get divorced.”

  Most of the people in the room looked shocked, with the exception of David. Lucy gasped. “That’s scandalous!”

  “What? I didn’t judge any of you. My husband fell in love with my best friend. It’s not like I had a choice in the matter.”

  “Is that what drove you to the sanitarium?” asked Constance.

  “Can someone else talk now?” asked Josie. “What about you, Senator Farnsworth?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I got one. I get letters like that every day of the week. Some lowlife, who gets ideas above his station, thinks he can get money out of me because of something he thinks he knows. But I’ve never been afraid of a fight and I’d certainly never give in to blackmail. You all can rest assured that when I do find out who’s doing this, I’ll beat him so hard even his own mother wouldn’t recognize him.”

  “I think the better course would be to have Agent Barker handle it,” said David.

  “I wouldn’t put it past Barker to be in on it,” said Farnsworth. “Most cops I ever met are crooked. What about you, Barker? Are you being blackmailed?”

  Barker looked like he was barely restraining himself from hitting Farnsworth. “No, I’m not. And I’m not bent, either. But to sum up, we’ve got six blackmail victims, a guy who’s been shot, an escapee from the nuthouse and a dead broad. I gotta hand it to you, David. You really know how to throw a party.”

  “Thank you for the summation of my hospitality, Grant. We need to catch our blackmailing murderer and I don’t think Deputy Irwin is up to the task.”

  “So what’s your big idea?” asked Farnsworth.

  “We need to work together and come up with a plan to beat this guy,” said Remington.

  “But what if he’s one of us?” asked Josie. “A group plan only works if no one in the group is the bad guy.”

  “Surely you can’t think it’s one of us,” said Constance. She lowered her voice. “It must be a servant or an outsider.”

  “Someone who just happened to know all our secrets and that we’d be assembled here?” asked Lawrence. “If I put that in a play, no one would buy it. I’m with Miss Matthews. There’s a real possibility one of us is the culprit. And I’m finding the very possibility quite intriguing.”

  “What are the blackmailer’s instructions?” Barker asked the gathering at large. When no one answered, he looked around. “Look, even if one of you is the blackmailer, it’s better for us to share this knowledge now. If we know where everyone is, it’ll be harder for this person to strike. And might I remind you just how h
igh the stakes are? One person is dead and another has been shot. Right now, our best chance of catching this guy is to share whatever we know.”

  There was more silence, until Lucy finally broke it.

  “I’m supposed to put my payment under a rock in the woods at midnight. He even included a map, which won’t do me much good since I’m just plain crummy with maps.”

  “And you’re not gonna pay,” said Mikey. “I don’t care if people find out about your movie. No one would dare say nothing about it as long as I’m around and I don’t intend on going nowhere. Not to mention I don’t want you anywhere near a money drop, given what happened to me.”

  “Oh, Mikey, you’re the best,” said Lucy as she kissed him. “That means I can go with you when you make your drop.”

  “You’re not going with me!”

  “Oh, yes, I am! I’m not losing you without a fight.”

  “We can figure out the logistics later,” said Remington. “Who else?”

  “I’m supposed to put it in the trash bin on Main Street at midnight,” said Constance.

  “Mine is next to the tire swing at your lake at midnight,” said Kurt.

  “I’ll go with Kurt,” said Tanner.

  “The old mill on Willamette Avenue,” said Mikey. “At midnight.”

  “The roof at midnight,” said Dora.

  “The old oak tree on the west lawn,” said Lawrence. “But I’ll be with Dora, instead.”

  “You’ll be ruined if you don’t pay,” she said.

  Lawrence shrugged. “Chances were slim I was ever going to write anything of note again, anyway. I might as well be poor with integrity, instead of just poor.”

  “I think you’re wrong,” said Josie. “The two of you have your best years ahead of you.”

  “You’re an optimist, Miss Matthews,” said Lawrence. “Possibly also a blackmailer and a murderer, but I’ll take all the encouragement I can get.”

  “What about you, Farnsworth?” asked Agent Barker. “Where are you supposed to go?”

  “The train station platform at midnight.”

  “It was smart of this person to have you all doing the drops at the same time, but at very different places,” said Josie. Then as she noticed the glowers directed her way, she added, “I didn’t say it was very nice of the person. Just that it was smart. With all of you in different places at the same time, it’ll be harder to catch whoever’s behind it. But I’m available to go with one of you.”

  “How do we know you aren’t the blackmailer?” asked Lucy.

  “You’ll just have to take my word for it that I’m not.”

  “What about you, Mr. Remington?” asked Josie. “Are you going to help set a trap?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “But I’d rather not share my plans right now.”

  “Why?” asked Farnsworth. “Are you afraid one of us is the culprit, too?”

  Remington looked around. “Unfortunately, I’m beginning to think it’s a possibility.”

  Farnsworth turned to Barker. “And where will the great federal agent be?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  * * *

  It was late afternoon and the mood at the house was subdued as the guests waited for nightfall to make their drops. Lawrence and Dora sat on the back lawn enjoying a cocktail, when Kurt Franklin approached them.

  “I was just wondering if the two of you could help me with a problem,” he said.

  “We’d love to,” said Lawrence. “Pull up a chair.”

  Kurt sat on one of the Adirondack chairs next to them. “Mr. Henry, your plays involve a fair amount of talking, don’t they?”

  “A fair amount,” said Lawrence.

  “Some would say too much,” said Dora.

  “But you wouldn’t say that.”

  “Never to your face while sober,” said Dora, clinking glasses with him.

  Kurt’s brow was furrowed. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Hollywood wants to do more talkies, and I’ve been told my voice ain’t good enough for sound.”

  There was a polite, strained silence from Lawrence and Dora.

  Kurt continued. “So I was hoping you two could teach me to talk good.”

  “Well,” said Lawrence.

  “Well, what?” asked Kurt.

  “You want us to teach you to talk well, not good.”

  “It’s not good that I asked?”

  “Let me take this,” Dora said to Lawrence. “I’m certain you can learn, but it’ll take practice. It’s mostly about the vowels.”

  “Like guts?”

  “Vowels, not bowels. A-E-I-O-U.”

  “And sometimes Y,” said Lawrence.

  Dora shook her head at Lawrence. “We have enough on our plate with the full-time vowels. Repeat after me, Kurt. AAAAAA.” She elongated the vowel and spoke clearly.

  “AAAAAA,” repeated Kurt in a painfully flat tone.

  “EEEEEE,” said Dora.

  “EEEEEE,” repeated Kurt in the same manner as before.

  “IIIIIIIIII,” said Dora.

  “IIIIIIIIII.”

  “Where did you say you were from again?” asked Lawrence.

  “Missouri.”

  “I thought you said you were from Chicago,” said Dora.

  Kurt looked blankly for a moment. “I’m from both places.”

  “Have you ever worked with a dialect coach?” asked Lawrence.

  Kurt brightened. “I spent a hundred dollars on lessons.”

  “You should ask for a refund.” Lawrence put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder to soften the blow. “I’m not sure your future is in talking pictures, dear boy.”

  Dora chimed in. “Have you thought about other areas of Hollywood you’d like to explore?”

  “Well, I don’t think I’d be much good at writing since my penmanship is so bad. I thought about directing on account of you get to boss people around a lot. That has some appeal to it. Producing wouldn’t be so bad since you get to meet so many pretty girls. If I can’t make it in talkies, I was thinking of doing a play on Broadway.”

  That was met with a silence which spoke volumes.

  “They do speak on stage, you know,” said Lawrence.

  Kurt considered it. “This is harder than I thought. I’ll have to talk to Tanner. Can we continue with my lessons?”

  “Let’s start again,” said Lawrence. “AAAAAAA.”

  “AAAAAA,” said Kurt, just as poorly as the first time.

  * * *

  It was a cold night as the guests left the house at half past eleven, all bound for their respective drop-off points. Josie had decided to go with Constance, since she was the only woman who’d be alone. The gesture was not entirely appreciated.

  “I assure you that I’m more than capable of protecting myself,” said Constance for perhaps the sixth time as they walked through the deserted streets of McConnell after parking nearby.

  “You’ve been most kind to me. This is the least I can do to repay you,” said Josie as she looked around. It was still so odd to be in the McConnell of 1929, as they passed Hammond’s hardware store. The building itself looked largely unchanged, but the window display was noteworthy for its lack of electric tools. It featured checkerboard floor tile and Josie was tempted to buy out its entire stock of tile and period features, hiding them away in the attic until she’d one day be able to use them. But three things were wrong with that scenario: she had no money, the tiles probably contained asbestos, and there was no guarantee she was ever going back to her own time.

  That last point scared her more than the asbestos.

  They passed the movie palace which was playing a Mary Pickford movie, “Coquette,” and advertised that “Gold Diggers of Broadway” was coming soon. In Josie’s time, the theater had been restored and featured art house films, while there was a small multiplex outside of town.

  There were no parking meters on the street and not a single store was still open. The streetlights were few and far between and lit by gas
. The feeble light they cast did little to illuminate the street, especially as the fog rolled in.

  Constance stopped in her tracks and turned to Josie. “I don’t want you here.”

  “I may not look tough, but the two of us will stand a much better chance against this guy than if you were trying to go it alone.”

  Constance was unmoved. “I don’t mean to be rude, Miss Matthews, but I don’t trust you. As a matter of fact, I think there’s a very good chance you’re the killer. You showed up at the party unannounced and you didn’t receive a blackmail letter. I find those two things to be very suspicious.”

  “I’m not the killer and don’t know what I can say to convince you of that.”

  “You could tell me the truth about why you’re here.”

  “Let’s just say I took a very wrong turn. What does he have on you, the murderer?” She’d noticed that while the others had said what they were accused of, Constance Andrews hadn’t.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “But if you tell me what it is, perhaps we can figure out how this guy got the information. If it is a guy. It could very well be a woman.”

  “Oh, really, Josephine. I hardly think this is something a woman would do. I mean, even a man would hesitate taking on Mikey Corrigan. No woman would dare to do so.”

  “I don’t know about that. You don’t need physical strength to blackmail someone and all she needed was better aim to shoot him. If Madame Racine was poisoned, you wouldn’t need a lot of physical strength to suffocate her.”

  “You sound like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve watched too many episodes of CSI.”

  Constance started to speak, then stopped. “What’s CSI?”

  “Never mind.”

  Constance pulled her raincoat closer against her as they continued walking toward the drop point. “If it is a woman, that’s all the more reason for you not to accompany me. I can certainly handle any woman who comes along.”

  They walked past a park bench which had an ad for a Realtor in modern-day McConnell, but here was just a park bench. “Why are you being blackmailed, Constance? I promise it won’t go further than me.”