Law enforcement officers, retired or active, were granted contact visits by the prison so within half an hour Goodnight sat across a small table in a large visitation room watching Jack Swensen walk over to him. He had seen the convicted man's photograph in the newspaper and viewed shots of him on the local television news so he recognized him at once. But the Swensen who took the open seat at the table was thinner than the fleshy man Goodnight recalled. Thinner and harder.
When Goodnight introduced himself Swensen eyed him skeptically. “You're here about that damned insurance?” He snorted in disgust. “It figures. Cut yourself shaving?”
Goodnight fingered the Band-Aid on the top of his ear. “Insect bite. How are they treating you?”
Swensen shrugged. “O.K. The food's terrible, but it's better in some ways than the county jail. Murderers are celebrities around here. I'm in diagnostic right now but I'll be transferred to a cell on death row next week.” He said this in the flat, neutral tone prisoners acquire after months of incarceration. “I'm surprised anyone from the insurance companies is interested in me. From what my lawyer told me I don't collect on the policies since I've been convicted of killing my wife.”
“That's right. You don't collect. The second listed beneficiary does however.”
Swensen stared at Goodnight before saying, “Second beneficiary? Who's that?”
“Leah's sister, Lana Dahl.”
Swensen stared in disbelief, then laughed. He rocked his head back and roared so loud a guard shot a look at him. Others visiting at similar tables nearby kept on with what they were doing, not wanting to be associated with Swensen's behavior. The laugh was bitter, humorless. He roared. Each time it seemed the laughter would end it began again until finally it dwindled away. He sat there, staring at Goodnight as if he alone was privy to a great joke. “Leah doesn't have a sister,” he said at last.
“You're certain? Perhaps a step sister she never mentioned.”
“Yeah, I'm certain. I'm married to her for God's sake! I ought to know. She's an only child, like me. Her parents died when she first started college. Neither of them had been married before. The only other relative was a grandmother who died when she was a junior in college. That's why she moved out here, transferred from SMU. She was alone in the world. A sister? That's rich!”
Swensen leaned forward across the small table, his hand gripping Goodnight's forearm like a vice. When he spoke it was with fierce intensity and Goodnight could feel Swensen's hot breath on his face. “Find that sister,” he hissed, his eyes looking wild, “and guess what? She'll be Leah's identical twin.”
Swensen leaned back and roared again, laughing until tears ran down his cheeks, wiping his cheeks with his bare hands, then finally he stopped and shook his head in disbelief. “Sometimes,” he said quietly, “this is like one of those old Twilight Zone episodes. I lay in my cell thinking I'm going to wake up from this nightmare, but I never do. All the time I figured the insurance was intended just to make me look guiltier. She's actually trying to collect! A sister. I guess it's cleverer than it sounds. How do you prove someone doesn't have a sister?”
“So you believe Leah Swensen is alive?”
“I was an idiot not to see it sooner. You have a lot of time to think in jail. There's not much else to do. You'll think I'm crazy but what the hell. Leah came to me in a dream just the other night. She was laughing like a maniac. I woke up sweating all over and knew. Everything made sense then. Everything. Do you think I'm nuts?”
“No. Why don't you tell me about your wife.”
“You want to know about Leah?” Swensen grew introspective. “Leah was...very pretty. I guess that's superficial but that's what I thought when I first saw her. We worked in the same office, Arizona Steel, until I decided to start my own company. She was no Playboy centerfold but Leah was lovely. She was quiet, bright, and very funny once you got her going. I dated her weeks before we went to bed because I didn't want to make a move that might ruin it. That was quite a scene, the two of us fumbling around. Neither of us was a virgin but then we hadn't had much experience either.
“But what really counted once I got past the physical part was that she wanted what I wanted. Something neither of us ever had. A nice home, family. She loved to cook. Let me tell you. I have eaten in the best restaurants in the state, but never had a meal better than one Leah cooked on an off day. She wanted nothing more than a big kitchen with a second oven.
“Do you remember Big Swede Swensen's Used Cars? Well, that's my old man. Talk about low class. I'm embarrassed every day of my life to be his son. And he was a mean, cold blooded bastard on top of it. There's nothing about my upbringing I want to remember. Absolutely nothing. Marrying a woman like Leah was the most natural thing in the world.”
“Susan Merriott says you had a pretty roving eye for a supposedly happily married man. And you'll recall that your mistress testified at your trial.”
“'Man does not live by bread alone.'” Swensen laughed rue-fully. “Let me tell you about Sue Merriott. Her ex is a drunken account manager who hawks derivatives. As long as he was making a killing she didn't care how much he drank, or how often he hit her. She loves playing the victim. But when everyone started dodging derivatives after the Barrow's collapse his income dropped through the cellar and suddenly she got religion. Now she thinks every man is a snake.
“Sure, I played around. How many men do you know who haven't? I lied to those two cops about it and did I pay. Did I ever pay!”
“So why did you play around?”
“That's the question, isn't it? Leah is a great cook, like I said. She keeps a great house. But sex with her, year after year, was like eating white bread and bologna sandwiches for lunch every day of your life. I talked to her – I really did – but she'd just get angry. She was available to me, she said, that was enough.” He drew a breath then let it out slowly. “But to be honest sex was only part of it. Leah was a cold person, withdrawn. It didn't seem like that at first but she became very distant.”
“Was that after you started seeing other women?”
Swensen looked up. “No. Before. But to be honest I can't be certain now that I think about it. That's probably what she'd say. Her parents were real Christers. Hardnosed, hardworking Texas farmers from what she told me and a bit of it rubbed off on their only daughter. You've seen Jodi?”
“Not yet.”
“There's no comparison between the two.” Swensen was suddenly silent, lost in thoughts. He closed his eyes for a while as Goodnight waited. “You have time in prison. More than anything else – you have time. Time to think. Some of these guys just keep stoking the fires, getting more worked up every year. But not me. I've thought a lot about Jodi. She's in it for the dough. I can be honest about that. But to be fair she's stuck by me when no one else has. I can't complain, not about her.”
“What about the scratch on your arm that Monday?”
“Scratch? I don't remember any scratch.”
“Paula Dinelli saw it.”
“Did she? That's the same lady who says I ordered the extra insurance on Leah. The same lady who's stolen my company. She's involved in this somehow, Goodnight. She has to be because she's lied. And she's profited. Sitting in my cell, I tell you, I wish to God I had killed Leah after what she's done to me. If I ever get the hell out of here Paula better look out.” There was a fire in his eye that flared momentarily. So much for not stoking fires, Goodnight thought.
“You want to know about some goddamn scratch? We've got Bougainvillea all around the house. I was always getting cut on them over the weekends when I played gardener.” He gave Goodnight a penetrating look. “When the guard came to get me, you should have seen his face. He was in awe of the great John Goodnight, ranger par excellence. What I hear from the cons you shot this place up pretty good.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“There are men here who still remember. They're scared to death of you. They say you always get your man, Ranger. Is that
true?”
“You've got me confused with the Mounties.”
“Right.” Swensen regarded Goodnight for several seconds. “What else do you want to know?”
“Tell me more about Leah.”
“O.K. When I started the company Leah was really key. I was a pretty good contractor but I didn't make enough money to get it off the ground. We needed the simple, quick turnaround jobs that paid on time. Leah worked the telephone of the accounts she knew from her job and brought in that kind of business. There was a point where I was ready to call it quits though. I was sick of the 18 hour days, seven day work weeks. But she made me stick it out. She held it together until it really took off. She's...tough. A lot tougher than I ever was. As it turns out, tough enough to frame me and get away with it.” Swensen glanced up at a guard who was watching their table intently. “The guards here are assholes.
“Did Leah confront you about Jodi?”
“No. She never said anything about Jodi. But before Jodi she told me once she knew what I was up to. I just laughed it off. But later she said she'd make me regret it. She said I wasn't going to treat her like this and if I didn't stop she'd make me pay. I really listened, didn't I? A month later I hired Jodi and was in her pants within a week.”
“What can you tell me about the cat, Scottie?”
“The cat! Well, for one thing that's when I finally realized she's alive. I was a slow learner. I can't believe it took me so long to figure it out.” Swensen's face was suddenly pale. “She took him with her. She loved that cat, loved him a damned sight more than she ever loved me! You should see the bills for all she spent on him! Only the best. She took Scottie, Mr. Goodnight. She wouldn't leave him behind.” Swensen looked at the guard who pointed to his wristwatch.
He leaned across the table. “When you find Leah, you'll find the cat. You're going after her, aren't you? You believe me. I can tell. She got greedy with the insurance and now it's backfiring on her.”
“Susan Merriott thinks Leah's alive.”
“Sue thinks Leah's alive?”
“So she says.”
Swensen considered the implications for a moment. “You'll have to go to Europe. She always wanted to live in Europe. Somewhere warm. Italy, France, Spain. Maybe Greece.” The guard was walking over. Swensen leaned across the table and whispered fiercely. “You find her. For God's sake, you find her!”
NINETEEN
Goodnight did not call ahead and waited for several minutes after ringing the doorbell for Iverson to answer. She was wearing a Brazilian cut two piece suit and would have looked less naked without it. He explained who he was and that he'd like to speak with her. She eyed him up and down then said in a husky whisper, “Sure. I was just getting tea for myself and a guest. Would you like some?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Iverson looked at Goodnight over her shoulder. “Ma'am? Do I look like a ma'am to you?”
He watched her retreating figure and considered that no woman over the age of seventeen should ever wear such a skimpy bathing suit. In the breakfast nook off the kitchen Goodnight could see the patio and pool. Two recliners with beach towels were in place. Iverson took a plastic tumbler with ice outside and placed it beside one of them. She went to a doorway, opened it, spoke a moment, then laughed lightly before returning to the house.
“Have you always had that mustache?” Iverson asked once back. She had picked up a paisley, oversized scarf somewhere and wrapped it around her hips. She took her place across the small table top from him, tapped a fresh pack of Marlboro cigarettes that appeared in her hand, opened it skillfully then lit up, obviously enjoying the smoke.
“Afraid so.”
“It's sort of old fashioned, don't you think?”
“I'm an old fashioned man.”
She took a sip of tea and eyed him. “Not exactly my type, if you know what I mean. My father had a mustache like it. I'll bet you smoke cigars too.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Guilty.”
“They should put you into one of those commercials. You're the ex-ranger I read about this morning.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I thought it might be you when I first opened the door. You guys all have a look about you. Someone tried to kill you, did they?”
“So it appears.”
She considered that for a moment. “It's like living in the Wild West out here. What's it like to be shot at?”
“At the time I was moving too fast to feel anything, and this morning I was sore all over.”
“The paper said you were grazed. On the ear?”
Goodnight fingered the band aid. “That's right. I thought it was a hornet for an instant.”
She grunted and shook her head in seeming disbelief. “What do you want from me? I lead a really boring life. I haven't tried to kill anyone in a long time. Promise.” She held her hand up in pledge.
“You aren't with Swensen Steel any longer I understand.”
“Hardly. Paula Dinelli high jacked the company with some kind of employee stock deal I still don't understand. I was just a receptionist anyway. As it turned out there was nothing I could do to stop her. I tried to warn Jack, but there wasn't all that much he could do from jail. I guess she was counting on that.”
“I understand she voted Leah Swensen's proxy to get control. Did it strike you as odd that she had it?”
Iverson shook her head. “No. They got along pretty good and I think Paula had voted the proxy the year before. Of course that time she was doing what Jack wanted so he didn't pay much attention to it.” She shook her head lightly. “When I arrived at the meeting with Jack's proxy they had a rule saying proxies had to be filed at least 30 days prior to a meeting. They adopted this employee stock option plan, an ESOP it's called, and she controls that block of stock. so now even if she couldn't vote the proxy she'd stay in control. That's life.”
“Did you and Jack Swensen ever talk about killing Leah Swensen?”
“My! You do get to the point, don't you.” She sipped her drink, the sides of her glass heavy with moisture. “Have you seen Jack? How is he?”
“I saw him earlier today. He looked healthy. Bitter, but that's understandable.”
She sighed. “I really don't know how much longer I can keep this up. The money's about gone and there's none coming in. I don't mind the house so much but I still won't sleep in their room. Visiting him at the jail was bad enough, but God, that prison! They make you feel like a criminal just for wanting to visit someone. A girl has to look out for herself, doesn't she?” She took another sip, licking her fleshy lips.
“Why did you change your name, Mickey?”
She looked at him quickly then stabbed her cigarette into an ashtray. “Don't! Don't ever call me that. I'm Jodi, now and forever. Mickey's dead.”
Goodnight waited.
“That damn newspaper. Can you imagine what it’s like to think you've run away from yourself and see it all right there in print?” She said nothing for a long moment. “You know what a JAP is?”
“Sure. They killed my brother.”
“Not that. A Jewish American Princess. That was me, right out of Queens. If I talk too fast you can still hear that accent. A nice husband, in a nice tract home, kids, that wasn't good enough for Mickey Swartz. No, I had ideas. So five years later I've been busted four times, one conviction. I'm popping pills to stay skinny, popping pills to sleep, popping pills before I ball some greasy spick who gets his rocks off telling me I look just like his daughter. They had me in so tight there was no way out, not ever. What they do is they send one of the apes after you if you don't show up. The first time they just work you over and tighten the reins, but if you're dumb enough to try it a second time they cut your face and put you out on the street with a nigger pimp. It happened to one of the girls I knew. That's my idea of hell.” She took a deep pull on the cigarette, the tip glowing brightly.
“So with me it was like this. I was in Atlantic City, standing on the balcony, thinking how nice a
long swan dive to the street below would be. The john, some kike, the king of Pennsylvania doughnuts he said, was waiting for me in the bed. I couldn't decide if fucking him was better than taking that dive. Don't let me shock you here. Finally, I decided I wanted to live. I go in – and guess what? The guy's passed out. So I roll him. Just over two thousand dollars. When words gets out I robbed a john they will help me out that window, no easy cut face for something like that. The guy running me, an Attica nigger named Willie, would have surely enjoyed helping me take that dive.
“But I figure this is the only break I'm going to get. I slip that evening dress back on, take a taxi straight to Kennedy and ask the ticket lady at the first counter I come to what's the farthest away any flight leaving within 20 minutes is going. The answer? Phoenix. Mickey Swartz got on that plane, Jodi Iverson stepped off. I took 'Jodi” from Jody Foster only I changed the spelling. Iverson was the name of the pilot on the flight who gave us the pep talk.” She took another pull on the cigarette. “It was a near thing.” She looked at him. “You want to know about it, that's why you're here? O.K. Maybe we talked about killing her, now that I think about it. The trial's over, right? I can't get in trouble if I remember things a little better than I did before, can I?”
“What did you discuss?”
“Jack was always saying that he couldn't get divorced because Leah would take everything. He talked a few times about doing away with her, you know? But it was just talk. At least that's what I thought. But he seemed to get worked up whenever we discussed it and the sex was hot. I figured he didn't have the balls. It was just a game he was playing. See how little I know. Men. You think you know them, then this.” She crushed her cigarette then lit another.
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