City Of Lies (58 page)

‘John, for God’s sake—’ Freiberg said.

‘I’m talking now, Walter,’ Evelyn said. ‘You’ll get more than enough chance shortly.’ She looked at Harper, shook her head slowly. ‘Thomas was hired to shoot Edward. He knew Raymond Dietz. He and Raymond did time together . . . where was that Thomas?’

‘Attica,’ McCaffrey said. ‘We did time at Attica.’

‘Right, Attica. And Ray and he got friends. Spend that much time in a room with someone and you’re going to make friends with them, aren’t you? It was Ray who gave Thomas the gun that he used to shoot Edward . . . and you know the irony of that? Gun was thirty something years old . . . same gun that was used in a robbery committed by Ray and Garrett back in 1974. That’s amazing, don’t you think, John? My husband’s gun, a gun that ended up with Ray Dietz, was used to shoot Edward Bernstein.’

‘I don’t want to hear this—’ Harper started.

‘But you have to hear it—’ Evelyn replied.

‘She’s a fucking lying, crazy bitch,’ Freiberg said.

‘Shut your mouth, Walter!’ Evelyn snapped. ‘Say another word and Thomas is going to shoot you in the face, right Thomas?’

‘Sure as fuck I am . . . you keep your fucking mouth shut Walter.’

Evelyn smiled. ‘I was hoping you’d come, John . . . hoping that you’d come and join us in a little game of Truth or Dare.’

Harper frowned.

‘Evelyn here has her mind all twisted up in back of itself—’ Freiberg started.

‘Shut the hell up, Walt!’ she snapped. ‘My mind is as clear today as it was back then. I know what I know, there’s no getting around that. You’re going to let me finish what I have to say, and then you’re going to have a chance to speak, okay?’

Freiberg said nothing.

Evelyn was quiet for a moment, gathering herself, calming down. She looked at Harper and there seemed to be a ghost of ironic humor in her eyes. ‘So Thomas went to meet with Raymond Dietz after the shooting. Went to collect the other fifty thousand dollars he was owed. When he got there he figured something was wrong. He didn’t see Raymond, saw someone else, and he knew that Ben Marcus was going to betray him. So what did he do? He thought about who might help him. He thought about the time he spent in Attica with Raymond Dietz, about everything they talked about. Raymond had told him all about Garrett, about me, about Edward Bernstein. He figured there was a chance I might not be too unhappy about Edward getting shot, so he took that chance. He came over here. We had a discussion, didn’t we, Thomas?’

‘We did, Evelyn, we did.’

‘Discussion was a little tense to say the least. Thomas had a gun aimed at me the whole time, didn’t you?’

‘I did, Evelyn, yes . . . but I apologized for that.’

‘Yes, you did, Thomas, you did apologize. So we had our discussion and we came to an arrangement. I would help Thomas. I would hide him here in the house, and he would protect me and you.’

Harper frowned. ‘Protect me?’

Evelyn smiled. ‘You were so naïve, John. You saw what you wanted to see. You had no idea who these people were . . . the kind of things these people could do. I agreed with Thomas that if anything happened to you he would find Walter Freiberg, Sol Neumann, Ben Marcus, whoever might have been responsible, and he would kill them for me.’

Harper looked at McCaffrey, standing back behind Evelyn, the gun in his hand aimed unerringly at Walt Freiberg. Walt Freiberg looked back at Evelyn with hatred blazing in his eyes.

‘Walter?’ Evelyn said. ‘It’s your turn to speak now. John’s here, and you’re going to tell him the truth about what happened
with Anne and Garrett, and then I’m going to have Thomas shoot you dead right where you’re sitting.’

Walt smiled, almost laughed. ‘She’s a little fractious today,’ he said.

McCaffrey edged forward.

Harper stepped out of the doorway and flattened himself against the right-hand wall.

‘Evelyn?’ Walt said. ‘For God’s sake Evelyn, tell him to put the thing away.’

‘Shut up, Walter!’ Evelyn barked. She shifted back in her chair, almost as if she was preparing to stand the recoil herself when McCaffrey pulled the trigger.

‘Evelyn—’ Harper said, his voice weak.

‘It’s okay, John,’ Evelyn said, interrupting him. ‘Walt was just about to share a few home truths with us . . . going to give us a few details about our family history, weren’t you, Walter?’

Walt Freiberg shook his head. He turned to look at Harper, and Harper could see that the man was scared. Walt Freiberg was
never
scared. Evelyn had cornered him, and there was something he did not wish to face.

‘So?’ Evelyn prompted. ‘Are you going to start with telling us how Garrett was there in the room when Anne took all those pills, Walter?’

‘What?’ Harper said. He stepped forward.

‘Stand back where you were, John,’ Evelyn said. ‘You don’t want to find yourself in the line of fire when Walter gets shot.’

Harper instinctively stepped back. He felt his knees weaken beneath him. He looked at Freiberg, perhaps expecting him to make some attempt to defend himself, but there was nothing. He just sat there, his hands on his knees, the canvas bags at his feet.

‘You want me to carry on, Walter, or are you going to join in?’

Freiberg shook his head slowly. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.

‘So,’ Evelyn said, ‘as Walter was all set to tell us, Garrett was right there when Anne took those pills. She didn’t want to take them, did she Walter? Didn’t want to take them at all, but you and Edward decided she was a nuisance didn’t you? Edward wanted to take John away from her but she wasn’t going to allow that, right? You decided that she was in the way, and so you told
Garrett that if he didn’t take care of Anne then he would lose his wife as well as his sister-in-law. You were going to kill us both, weren’t you? You were going to kill me and Anne if Garrett didn’t make sure Anne was—’

‘John . . . you can’t listen to her,’ Freiberg said, and he raised his hand as if to emphasize something.

‘Don’t move your hands!’ Evelyn snapped. ‘Keep your hands exactly where they are.’

Freiberg returned his hands to his lap.

‘You don’t have to listen, John,’ Evelyn said, ‘but you wanted to know the truth, and here you’re going to get it, pure and simple.’

Harper didn’t say a word.

‘Garrett was there that day,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘He was right there in the room upstairs. He told Anne that if she stood in Edward’s way then Edward was going to kill you. He would’ve done that. He’s that kind of man. Edward Bernstein would have killed his own son rather than let him stay with his mother. She knew what kind of man he was, and she knew what kind of people he was surrounded by. She knew that Edward was going to kill her, or he was going to kill you. That was her choice John . . . that was your mother’s choice. Give up her own life, or give up the life of her son.’

Evelyn turned and looked at Harper. Her eyes were filled with tears.

McCaffrey held the gun steady, never moving an inch from where it was aimed at Freiberg’s head.

‘So Garrett did what he was told. He sat there while she took those pills. He told me what happened. He told me how he lay her down and covered her with a blanket, and watched her as she went to sleep. He said she looked so peaceful, so content, like she knew in her heart of hearts that she’d done the right thing. He told me this, John . . . told me later. I said you were out with Garrett that day, but you weren’t. You were over with Francine and Grace.’ Evelyn paused. The atmosphere was unbearable. ‘Last thing she ever said was to make sure no harm came to you. That’s what she told Garrett, to make sure that no harm came to you. And then we had to protect you, protect you from your father, and because of what he’d done Garrett felt a duty to stop Edward taking you away. That’s why Garrett was killed—’

‘Killed?’ Harper said, almost involuntarily. His mind was reeling.

‘Killed,’ Evelyn stated matter-of-factly. ‘And we know who killed him, don’t we Walter?’

Harper turned and looked at Freiberg.

‘That’s right,’ Evelyn said. ‘Our friend Uncle Walt, instructed by your father of course, took the situation in hand and murdered my husband. And then there was only me left . . . only me that stood between Edward Bernstein and his son. And that was the greatest irony of all.’ Evelyn paused, smiled, started to laugh to herself. ‘Two days after Garrett died your father was arrested and sent to prison. He was sent to prison for something else entirely, and he didn’t come out until some time after you’d left for Florida. And he could have found you, he could have found you very easily—’ Evelyn turned and looked at Harper. ‘He could’ve found you so very easily, but you know what? He’d been away for that many years, and whatever had existed in his mind had long since faded away. He didn’t want you any more. Two people had died, two people he’d believed had stood in his way, and it was almost like he reached a point where there was nothing stopping him from finding you, from speaking with you, from telling you who he was, and at that point, when it was right there for him to take, he didn’t want it any more.’

Evelyn looked at Freiberg.

‘And then Edward spoke to Ben Marcus, told him that he wanted to sell his territory. Ben Marcus figured he could take it with a lot less expense. He agreed with Edward, and as soon as Edward started paying his dues, letting people go . . . as soon as Ben Marcus figured that Edward was vulnerable, he paid Thomas to shoot him. When Edward was shot Walter’s best-laid plans started to fall apart. He didn’t know what was going to happen. Maybe he figured he should cover all bases and have you as close as possible, make you obvious . . . and to see that I said nothing to the police.’

Walt Freiberg shook his head. He turned towards Harper. ‘John, none of this is true—’

‘I told you to shut the hell up, Walter!’ Evelyn snapped. ‘You had your chance to speak and you didn’t take it. Interrupt me again and—’

‘John, believe me—’

‘Believe you?’ Evelyn said. ‘Christ Walter, when was it ever the case that someone should believe you?’

‘Believe me now,’ Walt Freiberg said. ‘Believe me now. Believe that I didn’t have anything to do with your mother’s death, and I sure as hell wasn’t responsible for Garrett’s murder—’

‘Give me a reason,’ Harper said.

Freiberg looked at him, frowned slightly.

‘Give me one good reason . . . one good solid reason to believe you Walt.’

Freiberg hesitated.

‘Where’s Cathy?’ Harper asked.

‘Cathy?’

‘Yes, you know? Cathy Hollander? Where is she, Walt?’

‘She didn’t make it John,’ someone said from the hallway.

They all turned – Freiberg, John Harper, Evelyn, even Thomas McCaffrey. They all turned at the sound of another voice beyond the kitchen door, and before anyone could speak Frank Duchaunak appeared in the doorway, in his hand the .45, an expression on his face like everything was coming together, everything was tying up tight like shoelaces, and he was the one who’d done it.

‘She was there at the bank, right Walter?’ Duchaunak said.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Evelyn asked.

For a moment McCaffrey seemed unsure as to whether he should aim the gun at Duchaunak or keep it trained on Freiberg.

‘Figured this is where John would come,’ Duchaunak said. ‘Figured it was time for a few lies and untruths to be dispelled.’ He looked at Harper, at Freiberg, then at Thomas McCaffrey.

‘We haven’t been introduced,’ Duchaunak said. ‘You are?’

‘This is Thomas McCaffrey,’ Evelyn said. ‘The man Ben Marcus paid to shoot Edward Bernstein.’

Duchaunak nodded. ‘McCaffrey,’ he said. ‘You have a brother and a sister, right?’

McCaffrey frowned, started to look nervous. ‘What about them?’

Duchaunak shook his head. ‘They put in a Missing Persons on you,’ he lied.

‘We were just talking,’ Evelyn said.

‘Dispelling some little white lies, right?’ Duchaunak said.

Evelyn smiled. ‘We were doing
just
that,’ she said. ‘I was
explaining to John how my husband killed Anne, and then Walter killed my husband . . . all because of Edward Bernstein.’ She shook her head. ‘It still amazes me that one man could have created so much hurt and pain and destruction in so many lives.’

‘It doesn’t surprise me,’ Duchaunak said. He took another step into the room. He looked to his left, looked over at Freiberg who sat motionless, and then to his right at Harper.

‘Go take a seat with your aunt,’ he said. He waved his gun in the direction of the table.

Harper stepped across McCaffrey’s line of fire and took a seat on the other side of the table.

‘So here’s another one for your collection Walter,’ Duchaunak said. ‘And maybe John will appreciate this.’

Harper looked up, first at Freiberg, then at Duchaunak.

‘I told you a couple of things about Cathy Hollander,’ Duchaunak said to Harper. ‘Told you she wasn’t only called Cathy Hollander, remember?’

Harper nodded.

‘Right, sure you remember. Told you she went by the name of Margaret Miller and Diane Sheridan.’ Duchaunak smiled knowingly. He looked at Freiberg. ‘This one’s for you Walter. Seems her real name is actually Ruth Delaney.’

Freiberg shook his head. ‘You what? What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Federal Agent Ruth Delaney, FBI Crime Task Force . . . she got your number Walt, Edward’s too, and Ben Marcus and the whole sorry collection of wasters and assholes and fuckwits that you associate with. All of you, every single one of you is done for. We already have Beck and Parselle, Ron Dearing, Joe Koenig, though it’s uncertain he’ll make it, ’cause he got shot in the spine while he was trying to run away. We got Ricky Wheland and Karl Merrett—’

‘Bullshit!’ Freiberg snapped. ‘You’re just talking bullshit, Duchaunak.’

‘Whatever you say Walt, whatever you say. Fact of the matter is that the whole house of cards you people built is crashing down around your fucking ears, and here you are, sat on a chair in Evelyn’s kitchen and too fucking frightened to move.’

‘I saw her shot,’ Freiberg said, in his voice a tone of anger. ‘I saw her get shot right there in the bank.’