Dead On

by Michael Paulson

  Chapter 30

  I dropped Tanya at my hotel and then drove over to Leon's, through slick streets depopulated by cold rain. The lights were on in the little house when I arrived, and Moira's car was in the drive. I parked behind it and then trotted up the wet walk. At the door, I listened.

  From within, I heard someone sobbing. I could not tell if it was Moira, Betsy or another woman. Fearing the worst I tried the knob. The door was unlocked but the latch felt sticky in my hand. I let go and looked at my palm. It was covered with coagulating blood. My heart hit my feet as I imagined Delaney in there. I took out the Makarov, carefully twisted the latch, pushed the door open and then crept inside.

  A column of light fell came from the kitchen doorway. Beyond it, the sobbing continued. It was the low, weeping of someone suffering aftermath, not the wailing of current pain. If Delaney had been the cause, it was not likely he was still here. However, I moved forward with my gun at the ready.

  I stopped at the doorway. Moira sat at the table holding her head in her hands as if offering it to the gods. Her shoulders heaved in despair and her knuckles were white with anguish as her fingers crushed her hair. There was a smear of blood across her swollen chin and down one forearm. Beneath the chair closest to me was a pool of thickening blood. I sidestepped heading down the dark hall toward the bedrooms.

  Leon's and Betsy's were as I had last seen them. Moira's bed was stripped of its coverings. I found these on the floor in the closet, the chenille spread soaked with something sticky and dark, with the stench of Jade East emanating from it. Delaney had been there and Moira had bandaged him before he went on his way.

  I returned to the kitchen, moved silently across the floor to the nearest chair and sat down. Moira's head jerked up like a Jack-in-the-box. There was a plum-sized bruise on one cheek and blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She dragged herself up like a crippled old woman and glared at me.

  "Get the fuck out of here." Her mouth sprayed the tabletop with foamy blood.

  "You patched up Delaney," I said. "Where did he go?"

  A tiny trickle of red ran out of her mouth to form a large drop, dangling from the end of her chin. She swatted it with the back of one hand as if it were a fly before breaking down into a tirade of sobs and curses.

  "He worked you over?" I rested the Makarov on the tabletop.

  Moira regained control and then limped over to the sink. Without a word, she grabbed a butcher knife from the rubber drying rack and started back to the table. When she was within two feet of me she screamed, "Get out." She flourished the weapon overhead in dagger fashion. "Get out or by Almighty God, I'll kill you."

  I leaned back in the chair and casually crossed my legs. "How long ago did he leave?"

  The hand holding the knife wavered a moment. Then, Moira lowered her arm and let the weapon drop to the floor. She stared at me, like a lost child seeking help from an ogre.

  "Why couldn't' you leave things alone?" she sobbed. "There was no need for you to get involved. Why didn't you just go home?"

  "I have to find Delaney, Moira."

  She made a defeated gesture. "I didn't ask his goddamn plans when he finished here. But, if I were you I wouldn't stand still too long. Moving targets are harder to hit."

  "He's hurt bad," I said and stood up. "He's tough enough to handle the blood-loss better than most, but he's got to have somewhere to hole up while he heals. Some place the Portellos won't know about."

  Moira slumped back into her chair. "As long as it's not here, I don't give a shit."

  "Did he finger you in the cocaine theft?"

  "Ask him."

  "Who cut the deal with Dominic. Whose idea was it to hit Eli? You or Nadine?"

  She chuckled bitterly before getting up and going over to the stove. "You're so goddamn smart, aren't you?"

  "I've had my moments."

  "Dominic Portello wasn't involved, smart guy. That would've been too easy."

  Her answer stunned me. "Nadine was on her own?"

  A sharp, bitter laugh erupted from deep within her throat. Then she gritted, "Nadine had nothing to do with it either, you stupid shit."

  "That just leaves you—or Betsy."

  "More Bishop brilliance. You should've been a detective."

  Moira lit a flame under a dented aluminum teakettle, opened a tin on the counter, and selected a tea bag. Then, she retrieved a mug from the draining rack and set both on the table.

  I gave the gun a spin. "Cigarettes?"

  She cast me a furious glare. Then she fetched a pack from the Frigidaire's freezer compartment, and tossed it at me. I caught it with one hand.

  "I should've let Delaney kill you."

  "Why didn't you?"

  "In my own stupid way, I thought you were insurance against him: someone I could fall back on if he crossed me."

  I tore the pack open and lit one. She moved back to the stove and checked the flame under the teakettle.

  "I still could be, Moira. You're going to need some help, with or without Delaney. The Portellos took a bad fall tonight because of him. Salvator's going to take revenge on those responsible. You were Delaney's playmate. And that makes you one of the living dead."

  "I'd just as soon be dead. Everything I planned went to shit. There's nothing left."

  "Things are about to get worse. I've had both guns tested by a ballistics lab, Moira. The one I took from you and the one I took from Betsy. I'm waiting on the report before going to Bascomb."

  Moira whirled toward me her face ashen. "Betsy doesn't have a gun."

  "She said Nadine had given it to her; a small chrome-plated revolver."

  Moira's knees buckled, but she caught herself. Then the teakettle coughed and she reached behind and turned off the burner. From the look on her face that was the gun used on Eli.

  "When did you talk to Betsy?" she asked, almost hopefully. "Tonight?"

  "I followed you out to her place the night you and I got better acquainted in the bushes, across the street. Betsy told me most of what happened. About her, Nadine and you being at Eli's when he was killed. Her admission about being there and her being in possession of the murder weapon won't bode well with Bascomb. It might even get her a lethal injection."

  "No."

  "You don't think Nadine will admit giving her the gun?"

  Moira shook her head. "Betsy didn't do it."

  I jabbed one finger through the air in Moira's direction. "That leaves only you."

  She dragged her fingers through her hair, her face contorted with emotion.

  "I can help you Moira—with Bascomb and with the Portellos. But you've got to tell me the truth."

  Her chin dipped. "It wasn't me. I swear to God it wasn't me."

  She was telling me the truth, which left me short on suspects. The only other player I knew about was Woods. However, I had not figured him for the gunplay type. "What's next on the agenda? Blackmail? Is that it?"

  Her eyes darted sideways as eyes often do when an unpleasant truth is heard. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

  "Woods may payout to begin with, Moira, but that won't last. In time he'll find another Delaney and point him in your direction—assuming the Portellos leave you breathing."

  Moira slumped into her chair. "You son-of-a-bitch!"

  "Why did Woods kill Eli?"

  She raked her fingers through her hair a moment. The she whispered, "Nadine."

  "Because of her cocaine habit?"

  "Cocaine, sex, what difference does it make?"

  "Why didn't Eli simply point a finger at Woods and sic Delaney on him instead of calling me?"

  Her hands clasped at the back of her neck as if it ached. "Eli was going to get rid of Delaney. The profits weren't high enough and one less split meant that much more for the little turd. Eli thought he was so goddamn clever. You were supposed to be the patsy. He'd called Dominic and asked if they knew a P-I with some blood-history. You came hig
hly recommended."

  "It's a family tradition—either way you take it."

  Moira laughed grimly. "Eli was going to kill Delaney after he got you on the case. It was all supposed to end in a shootout—with no survivors. One dead cop, one dead P-I, and Eli grinning at the graves. He was a real sweet guy."

  "And out of love, you warned Delaney?"

  "Love is just a four letter word, asshole. I wanted Delaney to turn on the runt and wring his scrawny neck. For years Eli had taunted and tormented me about Leon. For years he would dangle the cash I needed until I agreed to dance whatever tune he played."

  Moira's face twisted ugly then. "He was disgusting. Little girls weren't his only kink. He enjoyed handing out pain. If we needed money, either Betsy or I would have to go to him. And if I went, the little shit would tie me up and…"

  "You could've turned the tables on Eli over Betsy."

  "And have him point at me as her pimp?" She leaned back in the chair rubbing her eyes. "You've seen Eli's place. That's nothing. You should see his bank accounts. He has tens of millions. More than he could ever spend. And with all that, Leon got nothing but handouts—pocket change, nickels and dimes."

  She sat up abruptly flinging one hand in the direction of the living room. "We cannot even afford a goddamn phone!"

  "So, when you heard Delaney was about to be history, you figured forewarning the big Mick would insure Leon inheriting Eli's money."

  She grinned ruefully. "Delaney goes to jail, Leon inherits and I walk away with half the community property. It should've been a foolproof plan! Only the stupid Irish bastard didn't believe me. Delaney thought I was making it all up to cause a split in their partnership. He said he had promises from Eli that after this year the runt would retire. And that would mean Delaney taking over the operation."

  "Which put you on the spot."

  "I knew Delaney would talk to Eli. So, I was cold meat unless I did something quick."

  "But Woods wasn't stupid enough to believe your story about Nadine and Eli. He would've talked to his daughter and she would've denied it."

  Moira laughed. "I sent him a videotape. Who can deny what's on TV?"

  "Which brought him gunning for Eli."

  She nodded. "That night, Eli called me at the orphanage. He wanted me to come around, said he was getting lonely. I figured it was a setup so I suggested Betsy tend his needs, said I'd come by in the morning. He liked that. Only Betsy was out that night. So, in the morning I went over to her place and told her to get out to Eli's."

  "Betsy went and you followed?"

  "She refused to go alone. I figured my time was about run out, so I called Nadine. She was interested. And by the time Nadine got finished talking to Betsy the two had agreed to drive out to Eli's right away. I waited until Betsy left, then I took a cab over to Woods' office. I made him play the tape in front of me. His face went dead white when he saw his daughter with Eli. That's when I told him she was out there for another session. He was cursing, drinking and vowing to kill Eli when I left. I warned him that Eli planned to release edited versions of the tapes to the mayoral opposition candidate, showing Nadine clearly in all her coked up glory. That sent him ballistic. He took a pistol from his desk drawer and stormed out."

  "You took a cab to Eli's?"

  She nodded. "When I got there, just the girls' cars were parked out front. I didn't know what had delayed Woods, but I had my own key so I let myself in. Upstairs I could hear Eli roaring high and the girls giggling. I wasn't sure how long it would take Woods to get his courage up. But, I knew he would get there soon."

  "You sent Leon to meet me?"

  She shook her head. "Eli must've done that after the girl's arrived. Leon was already gone when I got there."

  "So you hung around waiting for Woods while Betsy was upstairs with her uncle?"

  "Don't moralize me. I know your history."

  "Woods showed up on cue?"

  "I was on my second scotch when he roared into the place staggering drunk and yelling for Eli. I crouched behind the bar and watched. When Eli didn't come down, Woods went upstairs. I heard Nadine scream. Then, a few minutes later, there were frantic footfalls on the steps. Then I saw Woods force Eli outside. I went to the window and watched from behind the curtain. Woods was raving wildly about Nadine. Eli tried to calm him down, but it was no good. Finally, Woods shoved Eli to ground. Eli begged for mercy. Woods wouldn't have any of it. He moved behind him, pressed the gun to Eli's head and fired. I saw the gun jump in Woods' hand. Then Eli fell forward. Woods rolled him over onto his back and was about to shoot him again when Nadine came running out. She begged her father to leave Eli alone. But, it was too late. Woods told Nadine to go home. She jumped into her car and left. That's when he came back inside and telephoned Delaney. He staggered right past me not even noticing."

  "He told Delaney what he had done?"

  She nodded. "They talked a few minutes while I hid behind the couch. After Woods left, I went upstairs to get Betsy."

  "Betsy saw it?"

  "She was gone by then."

  "You stayed, afterward. Why?"

  She looked at me askance. "No way out. The cab was gone, Eli was dead, and his Rolls had a flat tire. So, I sat and waited for Delaney to get there. Only you and Leon showed up first. So, I hid behind the wall panel."

  "Cab service, remember?"

  "All right. I stayed to clean up after Betsy. The stupid little bitch was so scared god knows what she left behind. You were kind enough to point out the cigarette butts. I would've missed those."

  "When Leon confessed, you must've thought that to be a godsend. You still had a shot at inheriting Eli's estate as Leon's wife. Failing that, Betsy would inherit and you would coerce control of it from her. And while you were living the high life you could spend your free time blackmailing Woods and Delaney."

  "Without Woods, the cocaine connection would have died," she said. "So, that meant Delaney would do whatever was necessary to keep our esteemed mayor out of trouble—and that meant taking me into their partnership."

  "A girl like you is one in a million, Moira."

  Moira filched a cigarette from the pack she had given me. I lit it for her. "Don't talk so high and mighty. You saw Betsy in that flimsy negligee during your—how did you put it—little chat? What crossed your mind, then? Fatherly devotion? Or, did your feelings run a little lower down?"

  I went over to the sink, turned on the tap and snuffed out my cigarette. I did not like what I had just heard—perhaps because it was true.

  "How did the cocaine get from the lab?" I asked.

  "Delaney grabbed the glassware and took them out to the warehouse."

  I moved back over to the table and stood across from Moira. "Delaney must've said something to give you an idea where he was going."

  Moira got up and took her cup over to the sink. The corners of her mouth had whitened, as if she had bitten into something sour. "There's a guy by the name of Aaron Andrews at the trailer park where Betsy lives. He used to be a medic in the army. Delaney knows him from way back. He'll likely stay there. The manager of the park can show you—if you grease his palms a little."

  "Does Delaney know I was at Betsy's?"

  Moira turned around and nodded. "The stupid bitch called Leon, her sweet daddy. The call was recorded—they always are. And, Delaney got a transcript. I told him he had nothing to worry about from her. She'll be okay."

  "She's a loose end; like you, Woods, and Nadine. He'll start with Betsy to see how that settles, then work his way around."

  Her eyes grew big as she stared at me. "He told me not to worry. He said he'd hide out until things cooled down and then come back for us."

  "Get hold of Bascomb. Drag him out of bed if necessary. Have him meet me at Betsy's. And, whatever you do, don't call the cops. We don't know which ones can be trusted and Delaney may be monitoring their calls."