Fare Play (27 page)

“All these years, what I thought was my father's business was in reality just a killer's hobby. Nothing else. A hobby.”

Marian waited for him to go on. When he didn't, she prompted, “Then Oliver and Myrna separated?”

“Yes. Myrna simply couldn't stomach living with him any longer, knowing what he'd become. I didn't know that at the time, of course. I thought she was just being unreasonable. She'd tell me he was an evil man, and I should have nothing to do with him. Then I'd go over to his new place for a visit, and there'd be the same old Dad I'd always known. I thought she was acting crazy.

“I know better now,” he said bitterly. “When she was lying in that hospital bed, telling me all this, I tried to comfort her by reminding her that Oliver was retired now. He wouldn't be causing any more deaths—it was over. But it wasn't over, she said. The business was still thriving. Oliver had been training Dave Unger for years to take over, and Elmore Zook would be steering him until he felt Unger could handle it alone. Unger's a bookkeeper, not an innovator. He still needed Zook. But when Oliver eventually died, I would inherit the majority of shares in the business—they were legitimate shares, registered as O.K. Toys shares but really shares in … Virgil, Incorporated, I suppose you could call it. Zook and Unger together are Virgil now, I guess.

“Myrna said those two would undoubtedly cheat me blind, but they'd keep me supplied with enough money to prevent my getting suspicious. But whatever money I got, it was going to be blood money. Do you realize I've lived over half my life supported by money paid for murder? That blood money sent me to college, paid for my architectural training, helped me open my own office? And blood money was to be my legacy. Myrna said she couldn't go to her grave leaving me in ignorance.

“The last time I saw Myrna—it was the day she died—I asked her who my real mother was. Myrna started to cry. That dying, guilt-ridden old woman, lying in a hospital bed and crying … because she couldn't remember my real mother's name.”

Suddenly he looked up. “Could I have some water? I'm getting awfully dry.”

Marian nodded to Austin's guard and waited until the bluesuit had returned with a paper cup of water. Austin swallowed it all down without taking a breath and then crumpled up the cup.

“After Myrna died,” Marian said, “you decided something had to be done.”

Austin nodded slowly. “I'd never really felt true hatred for another person before. But I hated Oliver. I hated him so much it was eating me alive. All those nice childhood memories—they were as phony as everything else about the man. I felt so cheated! Can you understand that? Everything about the first half of my life was a fraud!”

“So what did you do?”

“I wanted Oliver dead. It struck me as wonderfully ironic if he should be killed by the very organization he founded. So I went to Elmore Zook and Dave linger. I told them if they would arrange to have Oliver killed immediately, I'd turn all my shares in O.K. Toys over to them. They could have the whole thing.” A sarcastic laugh. “Zook and Unger proved to be good friends to Oliver. They made me wait a whole day while they talked it over.
One day
it took them to decide to kill a man they'd been in business with for—well, in Zook's case, close to forty years. Oh yes—Oliver always knew how to find men exactly like himself.”

Marian leaned forward on the table. “But it didn't work out the way you thought, did it, Austin? It didn't solve your problem. In fact, it just created a whole lot of new ones.”

“Yes! That's what happened. Oliver's death didn't bring me the
relief
I thought it would. I realized I hadn't changed a thing. O.K. Toys would go on for years. People were still getting murdered for a fee. I got to thinking about how many people must be taking part in the venture to keep it going so well. Even if Dave Unger eased out all the legitimate toy people over the years, he still needed office staff—records people, computer people, his secretary. Did they know? Were they in for a cut? And what about Oliver's personal secretary? Surely Lucas Novak knew—how could his personal secretary
not
know? I even found myself looking at Mrs. R—Mrs. R, a housekeeper, for god's sake—and thinking that she'd lived under the same roof with Oliver for twenty years … she
had
to know what kind of man he was! I began to feel I was surrounded by people for whom murder for hire was no more extraordinary a way to earn a living than selling shoes. It was driving me crazy.”

“And Zook and Unger saw it happening to you.”

“Zook saw. I never know what Unger sees.”

“What did Zook do?”

“Well, first he kept telling me to get a grip on myself. Then he started saying I should go away for a while, take a vacation. Once he was so exasperated with me that he reminded me what kind of business O.K. Toys really is.”

“A threat.”

“I took it as such, yes.”

“Then what happened?”

He smiled sadly. “Then you advised me to find a new lawyer.” He played with the crumpled water cup a moment and then said, “I'd just had enough. That's all. It's an intolerable situation. All at once it simply became clear that that's what I should do. Find a new lawyer and admit my part in what's been going on. Maybe put a stop to this madness.”

Marian said, “When you hired a new lawyer, Zook knew they'd lost you for good. So they went to their standard solution—they put out a contract on you. Unger made the necessary phone calls, and they thought their problem was solved.”

He was shaking his head. “Solving problems—that's what this is all about, isn't it? If you have a tough problem, hire a man with a gun to take care of it for you.” He noticed the look on her face. “Yes, I know, I did the same thing myself. But if I can help you put O.K. Toys out of business, maybe I can make up a little for what I did and for what my fa—what Oliver did, for all those years. Are you going to arrest Zook and Unger?”

“We arrested them both an hour ago,” Marian said.

38

“So they're all three guilty,” Murtaugh said.

“All three,” Marian replied. “But Oliver Knowles was the guiltiest of them all.”

“There's something missing in people like that. Some essential part's been left out.”

“I got off the track there for a while, thinking Oliver was just a victim. I should have known Unger wasn't capable of thinking up a big scam all by himself.”

“Well, that's when we were thinking the toy company was being set up for a new scam.”

“True. And Virgil had been in business a long time. How long would you say … about forty years? That's how long Zook had been Oliver Knowles's lawyer.”

“Sounds about right. My god. Forty years of killing people without getting caught.”

“They must have rotated their shooters a lot. Killing was their profession, and they ran the business like professionals.”

“Unfortunately. I wonder how many Virgils there are in this country.”

“Well, Schumacher gave a list of some of them to
her
.”

The “her” was Assistant District Attorney Julia Perry, who'd followed them out of the interrogation room. Right behind her was Austin Knowles's new lawyer, James Archer, silver-haired and silver-tongued.

Archer was patting at his perspiring forehead with a folded handkerchief. “This is going to make one interesting trial.”

“In many ways,” the prosecutor agreed.

“I think we've got extreme provocation here.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Perry said. “Austin is more Oliver's son than he knows. They both reacted to stress in the same way—by killing.”

Archer snorted. “That'll never fly.”

She smiled. “Wanna bet?”

The two attorneys said good night and left.

The captain and his lieutenant headed back toward their offices. Marian said, “There was some chink in Virgil's defenses that we missed.”

“Oh?”

“Rosalind Bowman—when she was working in that office of Virgil's … Twenty-first Century Consultants? When she was there, she must have stumbled across something that made her suspect Oliver Knowles. She wouldn't have had him followed otherwise. She had no other connection with Knowles.”

“Too bad we can't ask her.”

“Yes, the lady's long gone.” Marian wished her well. “We still don't know why Unger opened a new Swiss account and then closed it again.”

“Maybe he didn't. We didn't check on it, did we? Maybe that secretary who told Perlmutter about the account simply saw the handwriting on the wall and was trying to play Little Miss Innocent for the police.”

She looked at him. “God. I never even thought of that.”

“Well, it'll all come out in the wash. I'm more interested in finding out how Virgil's clients got in touch with the organization in the first place. I wonder how we can get Unger to talk.”

“Tell him Zook said to.”

Murtaugh smiled. “That may be what it'll take.” They came to Marian's office first; he waited while she got her coat and bag. “So what happens next?”

“So next we turn André Flood loose on the O.K. Toys computers. Once he uncovers those hidden files, we're going to be so busy making arrests we won't have time for anything else.” They walked on to his office. “I want to get every one of them. Every person in this city who bought a death. I don't want even one to slip through our fingers. Not even the one tonight.”

Murtaugh put on his coat, wrapped a muffler around his throat. “What one tonight?”

They started down the stairs. “The courier who delivered the envelope to Schumacher—she wasn't the only one the paymaster met,” Marian said. “He paid off a second courier after that, remember? In Times Square.” She hated the thought of it. “Somebody died tonight—because of Virgil.”

“Larch.” He stopped at the foot of the stairs, forcing her to stop too. “Whoever that person was who died tonight—that was Virgil's last victim. It's over. Finished. You put an end to it yourself. This is a cause for rejoicing.”

“I know. I'm just tired.”

He sighed. “Lord, so am I. I'm going to spend the entire weekend sleeping. Good night, Larch. See you on Monday.”

“Night, Captain.”

It was almost four
A.M.
when she started her car to go home. But she didn't want to go home; she didn't want to go there at all. She headed the car toward Central Park West. When she'd parked and ridden up to his floor, she let herself in with the key he'd sent her.

He was still awake. “Is it finished?” he asked quietly.

“Yes. It's finished.”

“And you? Are you all right?”

“Yes. As if I've been rubbed raw—but all right.”

“It's an abrasive business you're in. It can coarsen you and cheapen you, if you let it.”

“Prevention can be difficult.”

“But not impossible. Don't give all of yourself. Keep some part of yourself separate, private.”

“I will … consider it.”

He moved over to her and gently removed her coat. “I'm glad you're home,” he said.

About the Author

Barbara Paul is the author of numerous short stories and novels in both the detective and science fiction genres. Born in Maysville, Kentucky, she went on to attend Bowling Green State University and the University of Pittsburgh, earning a PhD in theater history and criticism. She has been nominated for the Shamus Award for Best PI Short Story, and two of her novels,
In-Laws and Outlaws
and
Kill Fee
, have been adapted into television movies. After teaching at the University of Pittsburgh for a number of years, she retired to write full-time. Paul currently resides in Sacramento.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1995 by Barbara Paul

Cover design by Jason Gabbert

ISBN: 978-1-5040-3252-0

This edition published in 2016 by
MysteriousPress.com
/Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

180 Maiden Lane

New York, NY 10038

www.openroadmedia.com

THE MARIAN LARCH MYSTERIES

FROM
MYSTERIOUSPRESS.COM
AND OPEN ROAD MEDIA