The Killing Green

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The Killing Green Page 15

by David Deutsch


  "It's we who are thanking you. Just a small gesture of our gratitude. Oh, one more thing. We've taken action with regards to the incident that you brought to our attention. I wanted to be the first to—"

  "Yes, we've heard," I said.

  "You've heard? How?"

  "We ran into Bill just before we headed up here," I said. "I want to thank you for looking into the matter and handling it appropriately."

  "He, um, wasn't supposed to be speaking with you. I thought we made that clear to him."

  "Technically, I was the one who spoke to him. So he couldn't just ignore me. I say let's just let it go. Move on. If I can be of any help in finding a replacement—"

  I was trying to defuse the situation. Bill had been punished. He lost his job. And we hoped that he would be sitting behind bars for his part in Carl's murder. Locked in a cage. Like the wild, angry old bull that he was.

  "Ok, Max. As long as you and Mrs. Slade don't take offense to him speaking to you then we'll ignore it. And we've got someone lined up for the job. Shouldn't be long."

  We chatted a little more about the replacement then we all shook hands. And with that, Imogen and I walked out of the office.

  "Free dues, yay!" Imogen said.

  "One of the perks of our business, I guess."

  "Hey, perk up, ol' man. We just saved ourselves a bunch of money. I propose we use it and take a trip this winter. Skiing."

  She was right. I needed to lighten up. But my mind was spinning with thoughts of Bill, Lee, Alese, Eric, and Carl. I put them aside and refocused on the conversation.

  "You're right. Let's do that," I said. "But first, let's head back to that cabana."

  "Catch some rays?"

  "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  I didn't call John. Partly because I had forgotten and partly because the sun and pool were glorious. We enjoyed the amenities, especially the cabana, and then showered, changed, and headed off to dinner. We ate at the Italian place on the golf course as the sun set. The golfers had already finished their rounds, so there was no chance that we'd be accosted by a stray golf ball as we sat on the patio. The scene was out of a movie, it was that perfect.

  "I've enjoyed the day," Imogen said, toasting with a glass of white.

  "Me too, my love," I said, moving my glass toward Imogen's. "Except for the Bill part."

  "I'm not toasting to that," she said. "Try again."

  "OK, to us," I said.

  "Lame," she said, and then we clinked glasses.

  Dinner was delicious, and before we knew it, darkness had enveloped Delmar. We picked up the check, signed for it, then took a golf cart shuttle back to the main clubhouse.

  "Home or a drink?" I asked.

  "I'm tired. Let's call it a day," she said.

  I told Imogen to wait in a chair in the lobby while I fetched the car from the valet. She protested, citing what had happened the last time that I proposed that same plan. I told her not to worry, that I would keep my eyes peeled for charging old bulls. She laughed and sat down.

  I made it to the valet station without incident, retrieved my car and my wife, and then we headed home.

  "You OK to drive?" she asked.

  "It's a little late for that question, since I'm already driving, but I'm fine. Haven't had a drink since dinner."

  "Good. I think I drank too much wine," she said.

  "You just about finished the bottle by yourself," I said. "Just close your eyes and enjoy the ride."

  She took my advice. I drove along the back roads of Manors admiring the homes. Even in the darkness I could still make out how nice they were. Streetlights illuminated some of the roads, but some of the neighborhoods had lights few and far between. They were the last remnants of the old, true country roads that used to snake their way through this entire town. There was still one of those roads here in Manors that could have been on a number of car commercials. It was a beautiful, winding, desolate road, lined with trees and a slight cliff off to one side. I loved it.

  As I drove along through the neighborhoods, I noticed a car behind me with his brights on. It was blinding me. I pushed the button on my rearview mirror, launching it into night mode, and carried on. The lights became more intense as he closed in on the back of my car. Then he hit me. Hard. But he kept driving, pushing my car forward.

  "What was that?" Imogen asked.

  "Someone is trying to run us off the road. Hold on," I said.

  I gunned it. My car took off like a rocket as I wound my way through the back streets, turning, weaving at speeds that were way too high. But the lights followed. I could hear the car behind me screeching around the turns, trying to keep up with me as I sped along.

  As fast as I was driving, I couldn't lose him. He came up again, this time going even faster, and rammed into the right side of my bumper. The collision knocked Ginny and me forward. He was trying to spin me out. I held onto the wheel, floored the car, and turned the car left to straighten it out. Then my back window shattered.

  A bullet had flown through it and cracked it on impact.

  "Get down!" I screamed. "Someone is shooting at us."

  Imogen slumped in her seat. I tried to get down low enough to avoid getting shot in the back of my head. I turned left, trying to avoid the shooter. I weaved right. I sped up as fast as I could while making turns, driving through the neighborhoods. We were quickly approaching Snake Road, the old country road. Bullets were ringing out, hitting my car in different places. None of the bullets had managed to get through the cracked back window.

  The car shooting at me had caught up, managed to get next to me, and was now speeding dangerously close, almost level with me, as we turned onto Snake Road, the cliff off to my right. A bullet flew through my back driver's side window.

  "Shit, he's close," I said.

  "Floor it, Max," Ginny yelled.

  I tried to see who was driving the car. I couldn't. He was in my blind spot. Then he rammed us on the left side of my car. The Audi was pushed to the right. My front wheel was slipping off the road onto the dirt, heading directly for the cliff at a dangerously high speed.

  I yanked the wheel hard to the left, my tires screeching and the rubber burning. I knocked into him, and his car bounced left. I was back on the road. I pleaded with my car to give me everything that she had. I floored it as more shots rang out. My window shattered, the bullet hitting my roof. Inside. That was way too close.

  The car collided with me again, and this time it had pushed me even closer to the edge of the road. My front and back right tires were now on the dirt as more shots rang out. He was trying to kill us. I held on and forced, then willed the car to right itself. Then I slammed on the brakes.

  I was thrown against my seat belt. The ABS took over as my lungs were compressed. Three brake pumps later, my two front wheels were hanging over the edge. We were on a bend, and we were dangerously close to tipping over.

  I watched the car that was trying to kill us slam on his brakes as he passed. I could smell the smoke coming off his tires as they left what were surely marks on the pavement. He was backing up, trying to ram us over the cliff.

  He charged at my car in reverse, trying to angle himself perfectly for one good shot. I flipped my car into reverse and, despite my panic, tried to take it slow. I needed to calmly reverse out of this mess. If I went too fast I might just spin my wheels. But I was lucky. My car had all-wheel drive.

  The red lights were approaching quickly. I stepped on the gas as he charged at me. My car moved, and then I felt both front wheels back on the dirt. I floored it in reverse, but I was too late. The car slammed into the side of my hood, spinning me around. When the car stopped, I was facing the part of the road that we had just driven. I floored it again and started to speed away. But my pursuer was relentless. More gunshots rang out as he turned his car around and sped toward me again.

  He was getting closer. He finally managed to get himself almost alongside Ginny's
side of the car.

  "Can you see who's driving?"

  "No!"

  "Hold on!"

  It had taken all of my strength. I turned the wheel with all of my might into him. I kept my foot firmly pressed on my gas pedal, forcing the car next to me into rocks on the side of the road. His car hit a large rock formation that jetted up from the road, forming a wall of sorts. His car spun around and around, and then I saw smoke. I didn't care. I just kept going straight. Speeding as fast as my car could take us. Away from the scene.

  "You OK?" I asked, once I knew we were safe.

  "Yes. My God! What was that?"

  "Someone just tried to kill us," I said.

  "They almost had us," she said.

  "Almost."

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  On our way home I called John Carrington. On his cell.

  "John," I said.

  "Max?"

  "Yes. Listen, I've got a problem."

  He must have sensed the urgency, or some might have said panic, in my voice. He didn't give me the usual business.

  "What happened, Max?"

  "Ginny and I were just attacked. Almost driven off the road. Shot at. We managed to escape. The other car spun out on Snake Road."

  He yelled something to someone. I couldn't quite make it out.

  "I just called it in. Police should be there shortly. How long ago was that?"

  "Five minutes."

  "Did you see the driver? The car? Anything?"

  "The car was black. That's all I saw. But there should be dents all over it. Back bumper. Front bumper. He really gave us some shots."

  "Is Imogen OK?"

  "Yes, she's shaken up, but she's fine."

  "And you?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine too."

  "Good. I'm glad you're both OK. Let me go. I'll hop in a car and see if we can't track down this maniac."

  "Thanks, John."

  "Just hang in there, Max. I'll take care of it."

  Then John disconnected.

  We eventually fell asleep, and when we woke the next morning it all seemed like a dream. A very bad dream.

  "Were we really shot at?" Imogen asked.

  "I'm afraid so, my love."

  "I thought I was just drunk."

  "I would have thought getting run off the road and shot at might have sobered you up."

  "I did tell you that I had way too much to drink, didn't I?"

  My phone rang, and I looked at the time, still lying in bed. It had already turned 10:30. I fumbled for the phone and answered it.

  "Max?" John Carrington said.

  "John, hi."

  "We've got your man."

  "What?"

  I was still trying to wake up.

  "The man who drove you off of the road last night."

  "That is fantastic news!" I said, excited.

  "He was hard to miss. His car, well what was left of it, was still sitting on Snake Road when we got there. I don't know if it blew up or if he lit it on fire, but it was still burning. He had fled the scene but didn't get too far. We picked him right up."

  "Thank you, John. Thank you."

  "You're never going to believe who it was," he said.

  Who could it have been? I didn't know.

  "Who?"

  "Bill, the golf marshal from Delmar."

  What? Bill had tried to kill us? We had been right. He was involved in Carl's murder. Maybe he murdered Carl. Maybe he didn't have any connection to Lee. Maybe he had just wanted him dead. Maybe Carl had promised him some money. Maybe he was the one who had gotten him to invest his life savings in the first place. Perhaps he was on to the Ponzi scheme and couldn't get his money out. So he killed him. Payback for ruining his life. Trapping Bill at Delmar. Forced to work until he dropped dead.

  That's why he had been so angry with me. That's why he had punched me in the face. That's why he didn't want to talk to Imogen or me anymore. We had violated his privacy, figured out his dirty little secret, and then threatened to divulge it to the world. Destroying his life, taking away his freedom, throwing him in prison for the rest of his life where he would die an angry old bull full of regret.

  "Max?" John said.

  I was speechless. I didn't know how much time had passed. My mind wandered, lost in thought.

  "Yes, sorry, I'm here."

  "I've got some other news for you. Rather bad news."

  "What?" I asked.

  "Eric Milford is dead."

  I wasn't sure that I heard him correctly.

  "Eric Milford, the member from Delmar, is dead?"

  "I'm afraid so, Max. He was found shot outside of his house. The other night."

  Were the shots meant for me or Eric that night? I had thought that I heard Eric's voice call at me while I was on the roof. I had thought that he shot at me. But maybe it was someone else. Someone was trying to kill Eric. Maybe that second shot was the one that did him in. Maybe the first one was meant for me. A bonus of sorts. Two for one.

  "I have a hunch your buddy Bill was the guy who did it."

  "I have a confession to make. I was on Eric's roof that night. Someone tried to kill me. It might have been the same guy who got Eric."

  "Are you telling me you left the scene of a crime?"

  He was right. I should have filled him in. Here was John acting the part of police sergeant. Angry with me for not reporting the incident that had taken place the other night. I didn't blame him.

  "In my defense, I was shot at."

  "Were you going to tell me?" John asked.

  "I was planning on it but lunch, drinks, and dinner got in the way."

  "Max. Max. Max."

  "John, don't. I know."

  "Well, we might have nailed two birds with one stone—"

  Looked like we were back to colleague status.

  "You think Bill's involved in Carl's death too?"

  "Not only do I think he's involved, I think he's the one who killed him. I think you two had it right."

  Sergeant John Carrington, detective extraordinaire. No one would ever know that Imogen and I had quickly become the secret to his success.

  "I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "I mean, I'm happy that we got him. I'm just sorry for Carl. That he—"

  "I know, Max. I know. We've still got to question him, formally charge him. You know, all the fun stuff," he said.

  I knew all too well what happened down at the police station. Once upon a time, I was the one sitting in one of those cells waiting for the exact same thing. If it hadn't been for Carrington, my life just might be a little different these days.

  "Yeah, I know. Anyway, thanks, John," I said.

  "I'll be in touch. You two stay out of trouble."

  "Will do," I said, then disconnected.

  I had failed to mention the Ponzi scheme and Endicott Financial to John. I was distracted. It was Bill. I was still trying to wrap my head around it. I had to tell Ginny. She had heard the conversation but was definitely missing the most important parts.

  "It was Bill, wasn't it?" she said.

  "You're a wonder."

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  We lay in bed for another hour. Talked about Bill, what he did, what he tried to do to us, and the fact that John Carrington and the Manors police had him in custody. They had the old bull locked up, ready to be questioned and then thrown away in a cell for the rest of his life. For a moment, I was happy that at least I could believe that there was justice in this world. That this bad deed would be punished. And then I remembered Eric.

  He was killed. Shot. The night that Ginny and I had been on his roof spying on Lee. After that night, I had thought Eric might have been the killer. Maybe not the killer of Carl. But the attempted killer of me. Of that I was certain.

  I didn't know what role Eric had played in this affair. Was he the killer? An accomplice? Lee's friend? Or just a sap that got caught up with the wrong people. His death appeared to me the result of someone tying up some lose ends.

  Despite
our musings, we still had work to do.

  "One down and one to go," I said.

  "Don't remind me," Imogen said, pulling the covers over her head.

  "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we've still got Steiner to deal with and her death threats."

  "Ugh. I know, I know."

  "Plus the auction. We might as well stop by her place and let her know the good news that she is going to get her auction at Delmar after all," I said.

  "That means that we have to get out of bed?"

  I looked over at Imogen, wrapped up, the covers still over her head.

  "No one said we're in any sort of rush," I said, pulling the covers off of her.

  I leaned over and kissed her.

  An hour later we came to the painful realization that we did have to get out of bed and start the day. It was late morning or early afternoon, depending on your perspective. I had looked at it as late morning. That was the more half-full way of viewing the remaining daylight. I was an eternal optimist.

  We showered, dressed, and were off in my car on our way over to Alese's house. We wove through the quiet streets of Manors, enjoying the weather, our windows down.

  "We're quite the team," Imogen said. "You know, we're actually pretty good at this private investigating stuff."

  She was right. We were. I had even started to believe that we had a knack for solving murders. We weren't exactly batting a thousand when it came to figuring out death threats. But, on the other hand, we had also discovered a Ponzi scheme that was poised to bring down one of the largest private investment funds in the country. That was on tap for later today. We planned to head down to the station to talk to John, put another nail in Bill's coffin, and to fill John in on Lee Endicott's scam.

  "I think Carrington would agree," I said. "If we're not careful, we might actually have a career on our hands."

  We approached Alese's street. Her house sat off to the left surrounded by lush greenery and beautiful landscaping. I pulled up to the driveway, and there sat a car that I had not seen before.

  "Was that here the last time we stopped by?" I asked, rolling into the driveway.

 

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