The Killing Green

by David Deutsch

  "I don't remember any car," she said.

  Hmm. I didn't have any recollection of a car sitting in the driveway the last time that we were here. Perhaps it had been parked in the garage.

  "It just looks out of place," I said.

  I wasn't sure why it looked out of place. The vehicle just sort of looked like a guy's car. When I peeked at the license plate looking for a clue I was disappointed. There wasn't any vanity plate giving anything away. It must have been my gut. Sometimes even my feelings were correct.

  We got out of the car, walked up to the front door, and rang the bell. This time Alese wasn't standing there waiting for our arrival. No one answered. I didn't even hear anyone stirring in there.

  This gave me pause. The car. The seemingly empty house. Where was Alese? Whose car was that?

  "Do you think she's home?" Imogen asked.

  "Someone's here. Their car is parked right over there," I said.

  We rang the bell again. This time we heard motion inside. There was someone moving around. Then we heard someone say something that we could not make out. It was Alese.

  "Did you hear that?" I asked. "It sounded like a bird screeching."

  "Oh, Max," she said.

  The door finally opened, and Alese stood before us in a T-shirt, shorts, and no shoes. She looked like she had just woken up herself.

  "Max, Imogen, hi."

  She seemed surprised to see us.

  "Hi Alese. Sorry, are we interrupting anything? We can come back later if—"

  "No, no. Don't be silly. I was just tidying up. Come in," she said.

  Tidying up? I doubted that very much. I couldn't see Alese running around dusting. Something was going on that was out of the norm.

  We thanked her, and she escorted us in. As we entered I looked around, but everything seemed right where it was the last time that we were here. No signs of anything weird going on. I also did not see any other person lurking around behind the door or over by the kitchen. But I had a hunch something was off.

  She led us into the living room area, complete with the Klimt hanging on the wall and the duck pond just beyond the sliding glass door.

  "Do you guys mind?" she asked, over by the window. "I want to let in some fresh air."

  "No, please do. It's quite lovely out," Imogen said.

  Alese pushed a button, and the glass wall slid out of sight revealing the pond without obstruction, even if that obstruction had just been a clear window. The breeze tickled our foreheads as the air conditioning mixed with the humidity that had entered the house.

  My hairs raised on edge. I didn't know if it was the humidity hitting me or my nerves acting up. My senses heightened.

  "Ahh," Alese said. "I just love this weather."

  "Between the room, the painting, and the scene outside I'm on sensory overload," I said.

  Alese sighed, "You get used to it, I guess. So, what brings you two over to my place?"

  "I've got some news that I wanted to deliver to you personally," I said.

  I wanted to watch her face as I delivered the news.

  "It's quite exciting," Imogen said.

  "You've figured out who sent the voicemail?"

  "Not quite," I said.

  "We're still working on that one," Imogen said. "But this should bring a smile to your face."

  I paused for dramatic effect.

  "Max, please, do tell," Alese said.

  "I met with the board of Delmar yesterday, and they wanted you to know that they have agreed to host the auction four weeks from today."

  Alese squealed with excitement. She jumped out of her chair, ran over to Imogen, and gave her a hug. Then she made her way over to me. She hugged me and threw me two double air kisses, decided that was not enough, and then gave me two more for good measure.

  "This is fabulous news!" she said. "I am thrilled. So thrilled. I am so happy that you came by to tell me in person."

  "It is no problem at all. I'm glad that I could help. Now you just need to get the word out there," I said.

  "Oh, I will. I will. Thank you, Max. Thank you," Alese said.

  Then a voice spoke from the open space at the edge of the room as he entered the living room, "Yes, Max. Thank you."

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Lee Endicott had walked into the living room from the outside carrying a pistol pointed at us in his hand. He kept aiming it at one of us and then the other. My hairs were right. Something was going on, and that something was Lee Endicott.

  "Have a seat," he said, directing us to sit in the two white chairs that we sat on when we first visited Alese.

  "Lee, well, this is quite a surprise," I said. "Good to see you."

  I was shocked. What on earth was Lee doing here? And why was he pointing a gun at me? He didn't have any idea that I knew that he was running a con. Alese certainly didn't know. I didn't even know that these two people knew each other.

  I guess the old adage is true—you do learn something new every day.

  "Shut up," he said.

  "Now is that any way to talk to a prospective investor?" I said. "I mean we were this close to—"

  "I said shut up," he said, waving his gun around.

  I didn't know where this was heading. If he had the nerve to shoot me. To shoot Imogen. My mind raced as I tried to calculate what to do next.

  "Alese, luv. What is this?" Imogen asked.

  "I'm sorry, Imogen," she said. "Really I am."

  "Look, if you just put the gun down we can all just have a good laugh at this, have a drink, I can write that check…"

  I was desperate. The man was holding Imogen and me at gunpoint. It was only a matter of time before he fired two shots. One through my head and the other through Ginny's skull. My eyes frantically searched the room for anything that I could use to disarm Lee. There was nothing, except the poker that sat over by the fireplace. But Lee and Alese were standing between that poker and me. Of course, Ginny could distract them, but how could I convey that message to Imogen?

  "You, I'm not going to ask again. I said shut up," Lee said, angered that I had ignored his repeated requests.

  "One more quickie, if you don't mind me asking. Why are you pointing a gun at us?"

  If he was going to shoot me I deserved to know why he wanted to kill me. I also wanted to distract him. Get him talking. Stall for time. That was our only play.

  Lee laughed and became more relaxed. With that question he reverted back to the same old used car salesman who I always thought he was.

  "Oh, Max. You do make me laugh."

  "Well, that counts for something, right?" I said.

  He ignored me and continued to laugh. Alese just sat next to him as he stood.

  "Let's see. Why am I pointing a gun at you? Well, the answer is simple, Max. I'm going to kill you."

  "But why?"

  "Oh yes, the why. Again, simple, Max. You see, I spoke to Bill last night, and when he failed to wipe you and the Mrs. off the face of the earth, well, the job fell to me. And like manna from heaven, here you are."

  "You spoke to Bill?"

  I was confused. And I was sure, judging by the look that Imogen had on her face, she was confused as well. I knew that they had known each other. We had figured out that much. But I hadn't realized that they were on speaking terms. Casual speaking terms. Perhaps more like evil boss and dimwitted minion.

  "Correct me if I'm wrong. As of last night, Bill is in the custody of the Manors police department charged with the murder of Carl Westbrook. Am I correct so far, Max?"

  "I wouldn't know," I said.

  I had to play it cool. Not let on that we were working with the police. That we had been working with them all of the time that we had known each other. That I was never going to invest in his scheme. That I merely wanted to keep an eye on him. That we had discovered that he was a fraud. That he would be the next to go to prison. Right along with his pal Bill.

  "Oh, don't play dumb with me. I know you're a private investigator, and you
're all buddy-buddy with that detective. Bill saw you with him when Carl was murdered. Or don't you remember?"

  He knew a lot. He had known that I was a private investigator all along. But he continued to court my business. Get close to me. I wasn't going to anger him any further. I was going to play along and see what else he knew. The only thing that I was hoping to avoid was the ending. The part where he fired the gun into me.

  "I remember," I said.

  Lee laughed, "Good, now we're getting somewhere."

  "But Bill killed Carl. What does that have to do with you?" I asked.

  We were desperate. The only thing that I could do was to keep him talking. Hope that he wanted to gloat. He was a showman. And the one thing that I knew about a showman was they liked to hear themselves talk. I just hoped he would talk long enough so that I could devise a plan.

  "Well, here's the rub, Max. I killed Carl, and Bill, well, he sort of helped. But he failed last night. And now my job is to finish where he left off."

  I was shocked. Lee Endicott, the man who had stolen millions from countless unsuspecting investors had also committed murder. I looked over at Imogen, and all of the coloring had left her face. She looked as pale as a ghoul.

  Lee was beaming. Proud of his accomplishment.

  "But, umm, if you don't mind me asking…" I said, pausing.

  Lee nodded his assent at me via his pistol, waving it side to side as if to say go on.

  "Why would you have killed Carl?"

  Lee laughed. I wasn't quite sure what was so funny. He had murdered my friend.

  "Oh, Max. I thought you had it all figured out by now. But I was wrong. You do know that Carl worked for me, don't you?"

  "Yes, we knew that much," I said.

  "At least you bumbling idiots got that far," Lee said. "Well, you see Carl knew a little too much about Endicott Financial and started delving a little too deep into things that didn't concern him."

  I interjected what I knew to try to throw Lee off his game and to stall him even further.

  "Things like you running a Ponzi scheme," I said.

  Lee looked at me, angered. His eyes had narrowed. His forehead creased, and his veneers clamped down hard against each other as he clenched his teeth.

  "What did you say?" he asked.

  "You heard me. Carl knew that Endicott Financial is just one big scam. He knew what was going on and was asking too many questions. So, instead of risking being exposed for the con artist that you are, you killed him."

  I had called him out. Let the used car salesman know that we were onto him. How he worked. How he operated. The whole scam. We had exposed him as the fraud that he was.

  Lee sat there. Alese sat there as well. Then Lee started clapping, slowly. The gun still pointed at us as he brought his two hands together in sarcastic applause.

  "Bravo. Bravo, Max. You're not such an idiot after all."

  "Thank you," I said.

  Lee seemed a little excited that I had figured out the Ponzi scheme angle. His face relaxed, but the gun still remained pointed squarely at both Imogen and me.

  "Yes, yes. Very good. You are correct, Mr. Slade. I am indeed running a Ponzi scheme. And a very good one at that. I've got millions stashed away. Pretty soon, Alese—" He paused and looked at her. "—and I are going to disappear."

  What? Alese and Lee? A couple? Was she who I thought she was? I looked over to Imogen, and her jaw was on the floor. She must have been thinking the same thing as well.

  "Are you two, um, a couple?" I asked.

  Lee laughed.

  "Are you DirtyGirl?" I asked, looking at Alese.

  Lee stopped laughing.

  "How did you know that?" he asked, now locking the pistol directly on me.

  I ran with that comment. It had hit a nerve. He looked confused and angry at the same time. It had gotten him thinking. And thinking was good. It was much better than pulling the trigger.

  "Know what? That's she's DirtyGirl?" I asked.

  Lee was shocked.

  "That name. How did you know that name?" he said.

  I laughed. "Oh that? Simple, I hacked your email. Oh, and since we're being so honest with each other, I hacked Carl's too. That's how I figured out your whole scam. You might want to think about using stronger passwords in the future."

  He looked at me with contempt and hatred while he raised the pistol higher, aiming it directly at my head.

  "Too bad you won't live to see that day."

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  "Alese," Imogen said, most definitely trying to distract Lee from shooting me dead right then and there. "Alese, luv, why? You're not a killer."

  Lee moved the gun over toward Imogen's head.

  "Shut up," he said.

  "You love him?" Imogen said, looking at Alese.

  "Shut—" Lee said.

  "I do," Alese said, interrupting Lee. "I really do. We've been together for a very long time."

  "That's wonderful," Imogen said.

  Lee impatiently sat there listening to Alese talk about love as she gushed over her murderous boyfriend.

  I couldn't believe it or understand it. Why would someone like Alese be mixed up with someone like Lee? I was baffled. I was allowing Imogen to ride out this line of conversation before I spoke. She was having more luck than I had been having. Lee had been a fraction of a second away from blowing my brains out.

  "But I'm confused. You two are lovers? So, you were going to sell the painting and then run off together?" Imogen asked.

  "Oh, Mrs. Slade. This is the part that you and your husband over there didn't figure out. We needed you both to pull off our plan. We needed to get you two involved, vested in the painting. In Alese's case so that we could have the auction at Delmar."

  "But why? You could sell that painting anywhere you wanted," Imogen said.

  Now Lee had officially taken over answering Imogen's questions. He laughed. He was delighted with himself and what was going to come out of his mouth next.

  "Actually, Mrs. Slade, we couldn't. No one would take it. And would you like to know why?"

  We both wanted to know why. I was almost jumping out of my skin waiting to hear the answer. But I was also searching for a way out. A way to rush at Lee, grab the gun, beat him into the ground, and get out of this mess.

  "Yes," said Imogen.

  "I knew you would. The painting is a fake. But it's a very, very good fake. We fooled the experts. They believed it was the missing Klimt. The problem was how to establish the provenance. That they couldn't do. So they wouldn't touch the auction with a three-hundred-million-foot pole. That's where you two came in. We needed a reason to meet, so we created a bunch of death threats and fabricated a need for some very well-connected private investigators to come in and help. Once we had you two, we knew that we could convince you and Delmar to host the auction."

  The painting was a fake! That brought everything together. They were going to pull off one more scam. One last con. Take the money and run. Disappear, never to be seen again. Leaving one last rich person holding the bag.

  "Why don't you use the money from the sale to pay off the investors of Endicott Financial and go legit?" I asked.

  That question really elicited a full-on belly laugh from Lee.

  "You're a sharp one, Slade. Actually, that was the original plan. Sell the painting, pay off the investors. But then I realized something. If I did that, then I wouldn't have anything left for me. It would leave me with nothing. And, well, I'm afraid I can't have that. So, Alese and I have implemented plan B. We're going to take the money and use it for ourselves. Far away from here."

  "What about Eric?" I asked. "You're going to screw his widow too? After he helped you hide your affair with Alese."

  I had played the Eric card. I had to see how or if he fit into any of this.

  "Oh Eric. He's just a casualty of the game, Max. He got greedy. Wanted his money. He and Carl got to talking one day at Delmar, and well, one thing led to another, and he wanted h
is money back. With interest. But the problem was that I didn't have it." He paused. Then laughed. "Well, that's not technically true. I did have his money, but it had made its way into my private account. I mean, a man can't be expected to take money out of his personal account to pay for a business debt."

  Lee was crazy. This seemingly successful, albeit terribly showy and cheesy, businessman was a master con artist and apparently a murderer.

  He continued, "Well, he wouldn't stop. He kept hounding me. Told me he knew everything and then threatened me. Your buddy was trying to blackmail me. Here's a tip, Max. You can't con a con artist."

  "So you killed him?" I asked.

  The logic of killing someone was beyond my grasp. The guy wanted his money, so you put a bullet between his eyes. How did that make sense? It also sent a shiver down my spine. If he had killed those two, nothing would stop him from killing Ginny and me.

  "I wasn't going to kill him, Max. I'm not a psychopath. I told him if he could recruit someone to invest then I'd give the money to him, and we'd call it even. He thought that made perfect sense. So he approached you. But you wouldn't play along. And, well, you see where that led."

  "But, I mean, how did you kill him? I saw you in his house the night he was shot."

  Lee looked confused.

  "You saw me at his house?" Lee asked.

  Another one. I was surprising him left and right. More time to drag this out. Try to formulate a plan. I hadn't come up with anything yet. Just keep the man with the veneers talking.

  "Yeah, I was up on the roof. Peeked in and well, caught you and I guess Alese over there in a compromising position."

  "How dare you," Lee said.

  Alese gave me a disgusted look. Not as disgusted as my face must have appeared when I saw Lee on top of her.

  I had been trying to lull Lee into some sort of complacency with the situation, waiting for the right moment to spring from my chair. To deflect the gunshot that would have surely followed, before bringing him to the ground. Time was running out.

  "So, how did you shoot Eric if you were upstairs getting busy?" I asked, purposely trying to anger Lee.

  "You little bastard. You think you're so smart. So slick. With your wife over there. Trying to solve crimes. Well, here's what you didn't realize. I had Bill come over to Eric's house to kill him. It was a set up. Then he spotted you. Thought he could save himself a little time. So he took a shot at you but didn't hit you. Too bad. That's why we had to try again."