'So this is where Frank was killed, huh?' Daniel looked around.
The words acted like a shock, a reminder of what Daniel could do, as well as bringing back memories of finding Frank's body.
'Yes. Just there.'
I pointed to the section of scraped and scrubbed floorboard in the dining area. One of the things Lisa and I had intended to do that weekend was to cover the spot with a rug.
'And they still don't know for sure who did it, huh?'
'Not publicly. But I'm pretty certain they think it was Enever.'
'And you? What do you think?'
'I think it was Enever too.'
'Are you positive?'
I pretended to consider this for a moment. 'Yes. He killed himself, didn't he? He had everything to lose from news about the side-effects getting out. I'm sure it was him.'
'And Lisa? What does she think?'
'Oh, she thinks it was him, too.'
Daniel watched me closely. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he pulled a stubby revolver out of his pocket.
'I don't believe you,' he said.
I stared at the gun. This was not looking good at all. I had blown it. If I had jumped him when we were both standing up only a few feet away from each other, he with his gun hidden in the folds of his coat, I might have stood a chance. But now we were sitting down, ten feet apart, and he was pointing the weapon at my chest.
I swallowed. 'Why don't you believe me?'
'Because you and Lisa are too smart for that. I'd have been happier with a story about how you knew Enever wasn't responsible but you'd stopped worrying about it once you'd cleared yourself. That's what I was kind of hoping for. After the questions you were asking me yesterday, I thought I ought to make sure you hadn't jumped to any silly conclusions. Turns out I was right to be worried.'
'I know you killed him, Daniel,' I said.
'Have you talked to the police?'
I needed to play for time. I wasn't sure which answer would give me most.
'Well, have you?'
I shrugged.
'I need to know who you have spoken to.'
'And I won't tell you.'
He jerked the gun at me. 'I'll pull the trigger.'
I glared at him. I wasn't going to let him get the better of me. 'I know you will. I still won't tell you.'
I braced myself for the shot. But it didn't come. Daniel looked confused. He was thinking.
'Where's Lisa?' he asked at last.
'I told you. At the lab.'
'But you said you were both coming up here for the weekend?'
'She's coming this evening. She's got more work than she planned.'
'I heard you call out to her when I came in.'
'I thought you must be her. I assumed she'd left the lab early.'
Daniel scanned the room. 'Is that your bag, then?'
He nodded towards Lisa's black bag, lying on the floor.
'No,' I said simply.
'You're not being very truthful, are you, Simon?'
I shrugged.
'We'll wait here for her. She'll tell me who you've told. Especially when she sees me pointing a gun at you. How long will she be?'
Once again, I shrugged.
He glanced at the old grandfather clock. It was five past ten. 'We'll wait till eleven. Then we'll see. This should be a good spot to watch out for her.'
And it was. From the living room there was a perfect view of the marsh. She would be bound to come into view on her way back to the house.
We waited.
I knew why Daniel wanted to know who we had spoken to about him. If we hadn't told anyone, as indeed we hadn't yet, then once he had got us out of the way he would stand a reasonable chance of continuing to lead a normal life. Provided, of course, he managed to escape blame for our murders. If anyone else did know, then his best bet was to kill us straight away and take the first plane to South America.
Either way we ended up dead. I just didn't want my last act to be giving in to Daniel. But he was right. Lisa would tell him the truth, once she saw him pointing a gun at me.
I thought through again what Daniel had done over the previous few weeks. I had pieced most of it together, but I wanted to fill in the gaps. 'Did Enever have anything to do with Frank's death?' I asked.
Daniel laughed. 'No. Of course not. I thought about asking him for help, but there was really no need. He was doing everything he could to ignore any evidence that neuroxil-5 was dangerous. I think he just couldn't accept the idea that there might be a problem.'
'But Frank knew there was something wrong?'
'Yeah. He met some doctor in Rhode Island who was going to make trouble.'
'Why did you have to kill them? Was it because you'd borrowed money from the loan sharks Sergei Delesov introduced you to?'
'It was worse than that. I'd told them BioOne was a sure thing. The day afterward, huge volume went through in the stock. Millions of dollars. If the bad news had broken about neuroxil-5 when they were still invested, I'd have been dead meat.'
'But they got out?'
'Yep. Thanks to your warning, I got them out in time, as well as myself.'
'And everyone was happy.'
'I wouldn't say they were exactly happy with me. It was hairy there for a while. I don't think we'll be doing business together again, shall we say. But I'm still alive.'
'Yes.' I looked at him squarely. 'You are. But quite a few other people aren't.'
He just grunted.
I thought through what must have happened. 'You changed dinner to brunch with Jeff in New York, and came back to Boston that afternoon to murder Frank?'
Daniel smiled thinly. 'Very clever. I even had time to get the last flight back from Logan to New York. The hotel could vouch that I spent the weekend there.'
'And afterwards you used my spare apartment keys to let yourself in to plant the gun in my closet?'
'Seemed like a good idea,' Daniel smiled smugly. 'It nearly worked.'
'Who killed Dr Catarro?'
'The Russians. And they were the ones who were supposed to deal with you.'
'What about John? Why did you kill him?'
'I had to. He'd remembered something Frank told him about neuroxil-5. He called me to ask about it. He said he'd called you, and you were coming round to his apartment to talk to him about it. I knew I had to shut him up, and quick.'
'So you shot him in the back?'
'Hey, this isn't the Wild West. I did what I had to do to survive. There's nothing wrong in that.'
'Nothing wrong in that!' I exclaimed in amazement.
'Simon. I'm alive, and I'll do what's necessary to stay that way.'
It was difficult to think of Daniel as a murderer. Thin, pale, nerdish, he looked more at home with a keyboard than a gun. But I knew Daniel. He was greedy, and he was overconfident in his own abilities. That was how he had found himself in a position where it was either Frank or him. And Daniel had quite a self-centred morality. He'd go for himself any day. If he thought he wasn't going to get caught, and if the alternative was some Russian killing him, I could imagine him resorting to murder.
And once he'd done it once, he had to do it again.
We sat in silence, waiting for Lisa. She had said she wanted to be home before Gardner Phillips called back at eleven fifteen. I remembered all the times Lisa had been late in the past. Please, God, please let her be late just one more time.
The percolator was bubbling away in the kitchen.
'Shall I get your coffee?'
'Leave it! Stay where you are.'
I stayed where I was. The clock between us ticked louder and louder against the wall. Daniel was trying to stay cool, but he was finding it difficult. He was fidgeting, and a film of sweat was building up on his upper lip.
I was finding it difficult too. My earlier bravado, when I had dared Daniel to shoot me, was hard to maintain. I didn't want to die now, especially after all I had been through in the last couple of months to avoid firs
t prison, and then a bullet. Just when I had sorted my life out, it was going to end. Because of Daniel. The bastard! John had been right about him all along.
Half past ten.
The phone rang. A loud, pre-digital, old-fashioned clanging sound. Gardner Phillips. I moved towards it.
'Stay where you are!' Daniel snapped. 'Leave it!'
So I left it. Both of us stared at the telephone as it cried shrilly for attention. Phillips was persistent, that was for sure. Thirty rings. I counted them subconsciously. But finally it went quiet. Daniel relaxed.
My mind raced. I hadn't told Phillips where I was, just the phone number. With the help of the police, he should be able to figure out the address from that. He could have the cops here in twenty minutes.
But why should he? I had said it was urgent, not a matter of life or death. He'd wait half an hour and call again.
In half an hour I'd be dead.
Quarter to eleven. As the time grew nearer when Daniel would shoot me, so also did the chance that Lisa might not return until after his deadline. She might survive. Oh God, please let her survive.
Five to eleven.
Then I saw her. She must have come back along the path through the woods. She was approaching the house from the side, the side I was facing, but in a few seconds she would pass right in front of the big living room window, and Daniel couldn't fail to see her. Unless I distracted him.
I kept my eyes on Daniel, but through my peripheral vision I could see her getting closer and closer. She was smiling, trying to catch my attention: she couldn't see there was another person in the room yet.
When she was a couple of yards from the window, I made my move.
'I need that coffee,' I said.
Then deliberately, but not quickly enough to scare him, I stood up, and moved across the room towards the kitchen.
'I said stay where you are!' Daniel's eyes followed me.
I remembered that Daniel had shot both Frank and John in the back. Perhaps he was squeamish about shooting a friend face-to-face.
I walked on, slowly, my hands up in a calming gesture. 'OK. You can keep me covered. But I need that coffee.'
'Stay there, or I'll shoot!'
I could feel sweat breaking out all over me. He meant it. The bastard meant it.
Through the window, which Daniel was now turned away from, I could sense as much as see Lisa. I knew that the slightest flicker of my eyes towards her would cause Daniel to turn, and then we'd both be dead. I sensed she stopped. She saw Daniel, and then she ducked out of sight.
'OK, OK,' I said, and slowly moved back towards the chair.
'Simon. I'm going to kill you, you know that,' said Daniel. 'I don't want to do it quite yet, but I will if you give me no choice.'
I sat in the chair again to wait. I wondered what Lisa would do. Get the hell out of here, and call the cops, I hoped. I glanced at the old grandfather clock. Only two minutes to go. Too late for her to save me. But time for her to save herself and our child.
My own death, now just over a minute away, suddenly seemed very real. Of course I was frightened. But somehow, the knowledge that Lisa and the baby would survive gave me some strength. Strength enough to die.
Daniel, realizing that his self-imposed deadline was fast approaching, seemed to be steeling himself. He was tense, sweating. He didn't like doing this.
The clock struck eleven.
Daniel stood up. He licked his lips. The gun was held out in front of him, shaking.
'I guess she didn't come back,' he said.
'It doesn't look like it.'
I watched him calmly.
'Stand up!'
I stood up.
'Turn around.'
I didn't move. If I was going to die, it would be standing up, facing my assassin. I wasn't going to beg for mercy. Lisa had escaped. And our baby. And now I was going to die with simple honour. In these final moments of my life, that mattered to me.
'I said, turn around!'
Daniel almost screamed. I held his eyes. He wasn't enjoying this one bit, and I was glad.
Just then a car engine burst into life. I recognized the low growl of the Morgan's V8 engine. Lisa was going to get away! He couldn't stop her now.
'What's that? Lisa?'
I nodded and smiled.
Daniel licked his lips. 'Did she come back? Did she see me?' His voice rose in something close to panic. Outside, the car was put into gear.
'You bastard!' he said and raised his gun.
Outside the car engine revved and then slowed. Through the wooden walls of the house we could hear it growl and then explode, rushing towards us.
'What the fuck!' Daniel turned towards the wall of the living room. There was an almighty crash, and the house rocked. The wall erupted, and the dark green nose of the Morgan burst into the room. Wood flew everywhere, a chunk dealing Daniel a glancing blow.
I leaped.
He regained his balance and fired. I felt a sharp burn on my stomach, and was on him. He was thin and wiry, and fighting for his life. I was strong, and bigger than him, and fighting for mine. I grabbed the hand holding the revolver. Two more shots rang out, each smashing harmlessly into a wall. I beat his hand against the floor until he let go of the gun. I grabbed it, and belted him over the head with the butt. He slumped on to the floor.
I rushed over to the Morgan, which was half-in and half-out of the house. Steam was hissing out of the engine. The whole front of the car was concertinaed upwards. The windscreen was cracked but still intact. And behind the wheel was Lisa, motionless.
I was seized with panic. She was leaning back in the seat, a cut on her head bleeding heavily. She was still, her eyes shut. On her lap was an inflated life jacket, which she must have grabbed from the boathouse to cushion the impact.
'Lisa! Are you all right?'
Nothing.
I touched her gently on the shoulder, afraid of making an unseen injury worse. She didn't respond. I wanted to grab her, shake her back to consciousness, but I knew I shouldn't. So I stroked her face. 'Lisa! Lisa! Speak to me!'
She moved slightly and groaned. Her eyelids flickered. Relief flooded through me.
'Oh, Lisa, are you hurt? Please tell me you're not hurt!'
She shook her head. 'I don't think so,' she whispered.
I helped her out of the car and pulled her close to me.
'What about the baby?'
' I . . . I don't know.' She buried her face in my shoulder.
'Thank you,' I said, holding her tight. She had risked her life and our child's life for mine. I couldn't ask for more than that.
She pulled back, and tried to smile. 'I didn't want our baby to grow up without a father.'
Epilogue
I was ten minutes late for the Monday morning meeting. I had had very little sleep over the weekend, and I was exhausted. I was looking forward to a day at the office to recuperate.
Everyone was there: Diane, Ravi, Jim the new partner, and the two associates Kathleen and Bruce. No Gil. No Art. No Frank. No John. And no Daniel, who was into the second month of his life sentence.
Ravi was talking about Boston Peptides. Henry Chan and the rest of the management team, including Lisa, had bought the company out from the debris of BioOne, with Revere's backing. 'The prospects for BP 56 look excellent. We're planning to start Phase Two trials in September.'
'Any sign of side-effects?' asked Diane from her position in Gil's old chair at the middle of the table.
'It causes mild depression in some patients, but that's no problem if it's taken in conjunction with an anti-depressant. Apart from that, it looks fine.'
'Are you sure?'
Ravi winced. 'So far. But don't quote me on that.'
'Don't worry, I won't. Simon?' Diane said, turning to me. 'How's Net Cop doing?'
'Craig has customers slavering over his prototype. Now all he needs to do is gear up for production.'
'And the finance for that will come entirely from the Initial
Public Offering?'
'That's the idea.'
'Any price talk yet?'
'Forty-five dollars.'
Diane did some quick mental calculations. 'That puts a value on the company of two hundred forty million, doesn't it?'
I nodded.
'That's incredible!' Jim said.
'It's a big market and Net Cop has the best product.'
'So what's our share?' Diane asked.
'We'll have ten per cent of that.'
'Not bad, Simon.'
And it wasn't bad. We would turn an initial two million investment into twenty-four million. Jeff Lieberman and the Bloomfield Weiss investors would do even better. When we had backed down, they had had the courage to step in and they deserved their returns. Craig had done best of all, of course. But he definitely deserved that.
'Lynette Mauer will be pleased,' Diane said. 'I think she might bite at a new fund next year. With Net Cop, Boston Peptides, Tetracom, and some of the others, we're beginning to convince them that we know what we're doing without Gil.'
Gil was sailing five days a week, and had yet to go anywhere near a dialysis machine. But we were all determined that the firm he had started would thrive without him.
I was exhausted as I made my way back home across the Common. I needed a full night's sleep badly. But I walked fast, eager to see Lisa and the baby. It was eight o'clock and still light when I arrived at the apartment. I opened the door and called out. There was no reply.
I dumped my briefcase, and went through to the bedroom. Lisa was lying asleep, a breast exposed, the baby breathing gently next to her. I took off my clothes and crawled in beside them.
I kissed Lisa on the forehead. She didn't stir. Then I kissed the baby.
'Goodnight, Frank,' I said, and fell instantly asleep.
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