A Simple Suburban Murder (21 page)

"Worse luck for us." He paused, then continued. "If these people killed Evans they may decide to get rid of us too."

"I know. I'm sorry I got you into this."

"I'm glad you did." His smile flashed in the dimness.

"You are?"

"Yeah, why not? I warned you a million times, but I went along. It's like an adventure." "Thanks. I hope there's a happy ending."

"Me too," he said.

While trying to get loose we discussed options and possibilities. We got nowhere with either activity.

When finally the door opened it was John North himself who entered. He turned on a light and shut the door. His first action surprised me. He unshackled us. I rubbed life back into my wrists. When I looked at my watch I saw we'd been in the room two hours.

North leaned his back against the door. He was tall, blond, and blue eyed. His suit, impeccably cut, hung on him perfectly.

He folded his arms over his chest. "Well, gentlemen." His voice was well modulated, pleasing, and smooth. "What can I do for you?" I heard neither sarcasm nor humor in his tone. He might have been a polite clerk in an expensive boutique trained exclusively to be helpful.

"Daphne told you everything," I said.

"I have Daphne's version, yes. Now I'd like to hear yours."

I told him. He listened attentively.

"And so," I summed up, "I think you know where Phil is. I think you have information that could tell who the killer is."

Scott spoke for the first time. "We know you're fucking slime from what we saw upstairs."

North raised an elegant eyebrow at Scott. He smiled slightly and chose to begin his explanations with Scott's remark.

"Did that bother you?" North asked him.

"Very much."

"And why?"

"It was a kid."

North chuckled. "But nothing else about it?"

"Adults can play whatever sexual games they want so far as I'm concerned," Scott said.

"And you don't think kids play sexual games?" he asked.

"Not that kind," I said.

But North was partly right. I know people don't like to admit it, but many kids are sexually active. The vast majority of parents prefer to think of their children as living lives of pristine innocence—and this is true for many. But as a schoolteacher helping troubled kids, I'd heard many stories about them and sex. One sophomore claimed that in sixth grade he kissed all but one of his female classmates and had been to bed with four of them. This didn't count the seventh-and eighth-grade girls who'd pursued him to orgasm. I found out he wasn't lying a year later from a girl who'd been part of his harem. For the kids the time between after school and when their parents came home from work gave a new meaning to play time.

"What you're doing up there isn't right," Scott said.

North gave him a condescending smile. "I suppose you're right," he said offhandedly. He moved away from the door.

I saw Scott ready to leap for the exit. North saw it too. He said, "There's no need for violent heroics. You gentlemen are free to go anytime. I'd prefer to explain, and I'm sure you have more questions."

Scott gave him a suspicious look.

North said to him, "Your little victim upstairs is long gone."

He began pacing the room slowly, hands in his pants pockets. He said, "So, you consider me a completely evil person?"

"God-damn right," Scott said.

"Now, let's consider what I've done. I've taken the child upstairs off the streets. He is drug free and has a warm place to sleep. His parents have been contacted and assured he is safe. They didn't care. Neither the mother nor the stepfather wanted him around. Six months ago the boy indiscriminately sold himself, living in doorways and alleys. He had syphilis and gonorrhea. I had him cleaned up and kept him that way. At that time I had him take the AIDS antibodies test. By some miracle he came out negative. I had him tested again two weeks ago. He was still negative. Now he only does safe sex."

He stopped in front of us, hands extended, almost begging for understanding. "Tell me," he challenged, "what is wrong with that picture?"

"That was one kid," I said. "There are other kids we saw on the computer."

"I've helped every one of them, most not as extensively as my example, but some nearly so, and all of them to some extent. At the very least they are all drug free, disease free, and trained to do only safe sex. People want prostitutes and kinky sex no matter what the danger. I give it to them safely."

"It's still wrong," Scott muttered.

North looked at me. I said nothing. He sighed deeply and went back to leaning against the door.

Maybe he and Daphne considered themselves worthy of good citizenship medals. I didn't. I hadn't changed my mind about him, but then again, I wasn't quite as prepared to condemn him as I had been.

"You have other questions?" he said. He quickly began answering, anticipating the obvious. "Your main question, of course, is did I kill Evans? No, I didn't. Do I have an alibi for the night of the murder? One that is sufficient for the police, I'm sure. Beyond that"—he paused—"I should add that I also don't know who did kill him."

"Tell me about your relationship with Evans," I said.

"We were partners. Generally I supplied the customers while he supplied the workers. We never quarreled up to and including the murder. Our basic values merged wonderfully. We both loved money. I invested mine in my work. I have the impression he gambled his away, although we never discussed his personal finances."

I explained to him what I knew about the gambling operation.

"Doesn't surprise me," he commented. "Besides the reputed gambling, he always had a tiresomely new money-making scheme cooked up. He kept trying to tell me about them. I wouldn't listen."

"Why didn't you join in any of his schemes?"

"I have a great thing going here. I didn't need the pipe dreams of some heterosexual misfit from the suburbs."

"And you don't have dreams?"

"Mine are coming true, or don't you read the papers?"

"Your dreams might be about to come down on your head, once the police get the information we have," Scott said.

"Will it? If crime didn't pay, I'd agree with you. But it does pay, and extremely well. More important, my lawyers have been on top of this situation, especially since the murder. If I am mildly inconvenienced, I'd be surprised. Business may suffer for a short while, but it'll come back. People are always willing to pay for sex, and I'm willing to sell."

"You're that confident you're safe?" I asked. "You know the police have Evans's computer disc."

He laughed, "Ah, yes, the magic disc gave us quite a worry for a short time."

"I don't get it," I said.

"I suppose you do deserve an explanation." He scratched an ear thoughtfully. "It all started the night Evans was murdered. Edgar, who is my right-hand man, met with him around two that morning out in those frightful suburbs. Edgar is my collector. Evans had only a few thousand dollars. He owed us a great deal more. We'd carried him for several weeks. This was not good. He made many promises and offered us a fantastic deal. I might have accepted, but he started making threats. He claimed he had a computer disc filled with information that would ruin me. Edgar knew how I'd react to that, but he was diplomatic.

"To Evans, Edgar said the threats weren't necessary, and he thought for sure I'd agree to several of his proposals.

"Edgar came back here to talk to me. Evans was supposed to show up soon afterward. He never did. The next day when I learned about the murder I became concerned about the disc and what might be on it."

"You sent someone to break into the Evanses' home," I said.

"Right. They broke into the house at noon, took all the discs, and came back here. The discs were all ordinary school programs. I had to be sure so I sent someone dressed as a custodian to look into his room at school."

"And when they didn't find anything in his classroom," I said, "they checked the scene of the murder."

"They had to," North said. "They couldn't be sure."

"That's when I walked in on them," I said.

"Yeah. Edgar fired to scare you. He had no orders to kill."

"So that's who it was," I said.

"None of the discs we found had anything incriminating on them. We had a copy of the one you found, only without the school information on it. Evans and I kept our data current. That information says nothing about me. I'm safe. Evans's threat was a cheap bluff."

"How'd you know about the one I have?" I asked.

"That was an unfortunate set of circumstances."

"I'd like to hear it," I said.

"Certainly. When Evans died we notified all our workers of the new arrangement. Who'd collect their money, who'd give them referrals."

"The basics," Scott opined.

"Yes. Among them, of course, was Sheila Davis."

It began to dawn on me.

"You went to visit her that night. She reported that to us. I was out and didn't get the message until the next day. I called her back. She told me about the disc you mentioned to her. I didn't know if yours was simply a duplicate or the disc Evans said could ruin me. I couldn't take the chance. In the meantime I had been informed of your meeting with Phil. I was displeased about that, extremely so.

"Here you were, two people in your do-good mode, getting in my way. Plus you had a disc, maybe a fatal one. That night I sent two men to warn you off and get the disc. I wanted to send Edgar, but he was out of town. I sent two new men. They screwed it up."

"I got a beating," I said.

"And it didn't scare you away," North said.

"You bastard," Scott said.

"Business is hell," North responded. "You did scare
them
away. I waited until Edgar got back. I sent him out this evening. Around five today he broke into your house." "What!"

"Not to worry, he's a pro. He reconnected your security system. He told me nothing was disturbed. He found the printout and a copy of the disc. I went over them quickly earlier, and more thoroughly before I came down to talk to you. It's only a copy, not new information. I have nothing to fear from Evans, or you for that matter."

"What if I said there was another disc?" I said.

"There isn't. You're too honest. You'd have said two discs earlier when you mentioned giving one to the police."

We fell silent. I was stumped.

Finally North said, "If that's all you gentlemen need tonight, I'd like to get to bed."

We got to our feet. I remembered Phil. I asked about him.

For an instant North's calm slipped, but the cool facade quickly returned. "The boy was here up until a few nights ago," he said.

"Here as what? Another poor waif you rescued off the street?"

"Not quite."

"Did you know who he was?"

"Not at first." Still leaning against the door, he put his hands in his pants pockets, crossed his legs at the ankles, and told us the story. "I have major parties here about once a month. The talented and the rich attend, along with the prettiest boys on the street."

"Daphne is your source for pretty boys," I interjected.

"Quite often, yes."

"Where is Daphne? How'd you get her to keep her claws off us?"

"Daphne is marvelous in many ways. We go back many years together. She tends to overreact, especially if she thinks there is an emergency. It is quite easy for me to handle her. I own seventy-five percent of her bar. I've saved her from a number of tight spots. She owes me a great many favors. She does as she is told."

"Oh," I said.

"Phil came along to the latest party about a week ago now. He had virtues I prize." I didn't ask what those were. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

North continued. "He stayed here for a while. As we discussed, he met with you. Then yesterday afternoon he decided to leave."

"Why?"

"You'll have to ask him that." "Where did he go? Where is he now?"

"I don't know. I am generous to my boys, but if they decide to leave they cease to concern me. He left quite voluntarily."

"He must have said something."

"Not to me."

"To someone."

"Not that I know of."

I explained about the phone calls. North looked genuinely puzzled. "He was a kid. Maybe he panicked," North offered.

"Or maybe someone decided to kill him as they did his father," I said.

"Perhaps."

"And it worries me he hasn't tried or been able to call since then. Do your boys live here while you protect them?"

"No, and I see where you're headed. You may not talk to them."

"You forget we have their addresses from the computer."

"You forget I have a much stronger hold over them than you do. You must also consider that I am acting benignly tonight. I could choose to be much the opposite."

I ignored his threat. "Could we look through this place for him?"

He smiled wearily. "If you wish. You'll not find him. If you did happen upon one of the other boys, I guarantee he wouldn't talk."

"Accepting the fact that he's gone, can't you help us find him?" Scott asked.

"I could, but I won't."

"Why not?" I asked.

"It's not my problem any longer. If he'd stayed I'd have taken care of him. He's gone, so—too bad."

He opened the door for us, holding it politely as we preceded him out.

"Why did you tie us up and now let us go so easily?" I asked.

"I may be mildly inconvenienced because the police have that disc, but you're no threat to me. Daphne gets too excited. Upstairs it was better to be safe for the moment."

As we got our coats on the third floor a thought struck me. "Who called Mrs. Evans to come find her kid?" I asked.

North looked at me curiously. "Sorry. Once again I don't know. But in all the things you've told me that seems to be the most strange."

By the time we got out of there it was after two A.M. I was bushed. With all this running around we still hadn't found Phil, and we didn't know who the killer was. We walked back to the car.

"I think Phil's in that house." Scott's footsteps scraped tiredly as he spoke. "Probably hidden in some tiny corner that we wouldn't recognize in a year's searching."