Smoke Screen (34 page)

Neither said anything more, giving Fordyce time to assimilate everything they’d told him, which was a lot. During the silence, Britt switched off the camera, which was signaling her that the battery was failing anyway. It was fortunate that it had lasted this long.

Finally, Fordyce gave a slight nod of his head, as though having reached a decision. “At the very least, what you allege about Cleveland Jones and the fire demands reinvestigation. A full reinvestigation, and I want you to lead it, Mr. Gannon.”

Taken aback, Raley said, “Thank you.” But he wasn’t going to let Fordyce off the hook just because he’d thrown him this bone. “And the Suzi Monroe matter?”

“Will also be reinvestigated. You have my word.” He pointed toward the camcorder. “You have my admission that I was negligent the first time around. I intend to own up to that.”

Raley gave him a curt nod.

Fordyce looked at Britt. “You’re still charged with Jay Burgess’s murder. I’m afraid I can’t spare you the ordeal of answering to that charge, although, honestly, I thought it was preposterous. After I’ve had a chance to talk to the detectives investigating the case, I’m sure the accusation will be dropped. Without delay, I’ll have George McGowan brought in for questioning. And I want these men who’ve been following you found and identified. I don’t suppose you have names.”

“Only a license plate number,” Britt said.

Fordyce passed her a Post-it pad and pen. She wrote down the make of the maroon sedan and its license number, along with the location of the Holiday Inn. After having been seen there last night, it was unlikely the pair would remain at that location, but it would be a good place to begin the manhunt.

“Once they’re brought in, separated, and questioned, I’ll bet we can get one or both of them to give up McGowan,” Fordyce said.

Raley doubted those two would be that easy to crack. But he kept that opinion to himself.

“Are you going to arrest me?” Britt asked.

Fordyce regarded her for several seconds, then smiled wryly. “I never dreaded seeing you in the press corps. You’ve always been tough but fair, and usually favorable in your reporting of me and the job I’m doing for the state. I’ve never doubted your integrity, Britt. So, I’m going to place you in protective custody rather than under arrest.”

“I appreciate that.”

Fordyce looked at Raley. “Both of you are extremely vulnerable. I’m sure you’re aware of that,” he said, again glancing at the pistol on the table. “You’re key to making these felony cases against McGowan. If he would kill his own friends to keep them quiet, he won’t hesitate to dispense with you. You’ll need protection.”

“For how long?” Raley didn’t like the idea of being under guard, but he saw the necessity of protecting Britt.

“At least until George McGowan and the two men following you are in custody.”

“We only know of two,” Britt said. “Who’s to say there aren’t more? McGowan has a lot of money.”

“I’ll do everything within my power to protect you,” Fordyce told her. To Raley he said, “Actually, Mr. Gannon, you were wrong when you said that this was the day I’d been dreading for five years. I’ve often wondered—daily in fact—if I would have been elected if not for the notoriety I gained from that fire. It’s an uncertainty that’s haunted me since I took office. I actually welcome this opportunity to prove, if only to myself, that I won on merit, not because of instant fame.”

Then, shaking off the reflective thought, he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll make some calls and get things rolling.”

Britt and Raley stepped into the foyer, where she wrapped her arms around Raley’s waist, hugging him quickly but tightly. “This is the best we could have hoped for!” she exclaimed with a soft gasp. “We have a powerful ally in our corner now.”

“Yeah, but I hate being placed under lock and key.”

“He doesn’t want anything happening to you. Surely you can see the rationale. Believe me, I’d rather be out there covering the story as it unfolds. But more than that, I want to live. I want
you
to live.”

“I feel the same. But I’d like to be there when McGowan realizes the jig is up. I know this isn’t about getting revenge, but that would be a sweet moment for me.”

“You’ll have your moment.”

Shortly after, Fordyce rejoined them. “A capitol security guard will be here momentarily and drive you…Wait. How’d you get here? I don’t remember seeing a car.”

“We left it on the next block.”

“The men following you have marked it?”

“Yes, but I’ve switched the license plate a couple of times.”

The AG smiled. “Even so, it’s probably best to leave it there for the time being. The guard will drive you to the Marriott. It’s nothing fancy, but you’ll be comfortable.”

Britt laughed. “Compared to the places where we’ve been hiding out, the Marriott will seem like a palace.”

Fordyce tilted his head and divided a curious look between them. “One thing you didn’t explain. How was it the two of you got together on this?”

“Uh, Raley…contacted me.”

“I saw her press conference and was struck by the similarities of our experiences.”

In stops and starts, omitting personal references, they told him that they’d joined forces and compared notes. The more they shared, the more convinced they became that Raley’s hunches had been correct.

The brass knocker sounded smartly. Fordyce excused himself to answer the door. “Thank you for coming so soon,” he said and moved aside to let the guard step into the foyer.

“You’re welcome, sir.” He proffered his badge. “I was intercepted on my way to the capitol. That’s why I’m not in uniform.” He glanced at Raley and Britt, giving them a nod. “Sir. Ma’am.” Then back to the AG, “Is everything arranged at the hotel?”

“Yes,” Fordyce replied. “They have adjoining rooms on the top floor. Stand post outside. Don’t let anyone go in, not even a room service waiter that you haven’t cleared first.”

“I understand, sir. One of our men will also be in the lobby by the time we arrive. Another at the service entrance. More will be available if you request them.”

“Excellent.” Turning to Raley and Britt, Fordyce asked, “Can you provide descriptions of the two men who’ve been following you?”

“Yes,” Raley said. “Fairly accurate ones, I think.”

“Good. I’ll send a police sketch artist over to the hotel right away.” He shook hands with them in turn. “If you need anything, anything, call my office. If I’m not available, my secretary will accommodate you.”

“We’d like to be kept informed of what’s going on,” Raley said.

“I’ll give you periodic reports.” He reached for Raley’s hand and shook it a second time. “I wish that saying ‘I’m sorry’ was sufficient. I realize it’s not.”

“Make it up to me by getting George McGowan.”

“You can count on it.”

He motioned them toward the door where the guard was waiting. As they drew even with the foyer table, on which stood a large Chinese vase of fresh flowers, Britt grabbed the neck of the vase and swung it with all her strength at the guard’s head.

With a sharp exclamation of pain, he reeled backward.

There was an explosion of china, flowers, and water when the vase shattered on the marble floor.

She yelled,
“Run!”

Raley was stunned by what she’d done, but he trusted her. Without hesitation, he bolted after her through the open front door. She leaped off the porch, hurdling a flower bed, and struck out running full tilt across the grass, her sneakers slipping on the dew. She almost went down, but he grabbed her elbow and propelled her along the sidewalk.

He risked glancing back as they rounded the corner. Neither Fordyce nor the guard was coming after them. Possibly the guard was lying unconscious on Cobb Fordyce’s floor. “The guard—”

“Was in Jay’s town house that night,” Britt panted, never breaking stride. “I recognized him instantly. I remember, Raley! I remember!”

R
ALEY DROVE AS FAST AS HE DARED, WANTING TO PUT DISTANCE
between them and the city of Columbia. He avoided main highways and kept to back roads that he’d come to know well during his exile.

He kept one eye on the rearview mirror, but if anyone was in pursuit, he hadn’t spotted them. They weren’t being chased by a convoy of squad cars running hot, but then he hadn’t expected Fordyce to send police cars after them. More like innocuous sedans. A private posse.

“I believed that smooth-talking son of a bitch,” he said angrily as they blew through a sleepy town with only a caution light at its main intersection.

“So did I,” Britt said, “and I can usually detect when someone’s trying to bamboozle me.”

“Lying bastard.”

“He seemed so contrite when he apologized to you.”

“I’m sure he couldn’t believe his good luck. His goons have been chasing us all over kingdom come, trying to kill us, and we showed up at his house! That so-called guard was probably lying in wait somewhere near the capitol, waiting for us to arrive at eleven o’clock. We would never have made it into the building.”

“You were smart to deviate from that plan.”

“But not smart enough to see through Fordyce’s bullshit. Marriott, my ass,” he snarled. “While we were standing in the hallway, grateful that we had an ally and protection, he was calling his hired hand, alerting him to a sudden change of plan.”

“I may have killed him,” she said shakily.

“I don’t think so, but…” He gave her a glance. “But it might not be a bad idea for you to go to the police and turn yourself in. We have the videotape. We have Fordyce saying—”

“Nothing, Raley. Nothing substantive. The tape is useless. Fordyce played straight to the camera. On this video, our earnest attorney general was full of remorse and apology. We have contrition, but in no way, shape, or form did he incriminate himself in the matter of the fire, Suzi Monroe, or anything else.”

Realizing she was right, he cursed.

“He knew exactly what he was doing,” she said, “and we fell for his manipulation.”

It infuriated Raley to realize how easily they’d been duped. “If we went to the police now, making accusations, Fordyce would say that we barged into his home, armed—Aw,
fuck
! I left the pistol on that table.”

He berated himself for that oversight, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Besides, he doubted that he could ever actually shoot someone. But none of his enemies knew that, and he missed the false sense of security that came with having a loaded piece.

“Fordyce would say we told him a story that deserved further discussion, at the very least. But then when he summoned a guard to protect us until he could check into it, you—unprovoked—clouted the man with a vase.”

“I can’t prove that the guard killed Jay,” she said. “But I know he was there.”

“Do you remember seeing him at The Wheelhouse?”

“No. But I’m positive he was at Jay’s town house, and that he had a partner.”

“Butch? Sundance?”

“Neither. Another man.”

“So we’ve got Butch and Sundance, the guy who came to Fordyce’s rescue, and another we haven’t seen yet. Four total, working in two pairs.”

“I suppose,” she said. “I’ll be able to identify the fourth man when I see him again, because now I have a vivid mental image of him, bending over me—”

When she stopped abruptly, Raley snapped his head toward her. “A mental image of him bending over you…
What?
Did he rape you?”

“No, just…” She shuddered, took a moment, then plugged the camcorder into the cigarette lighter again. “In case something happens to me, to us, this should be recorded.”

It was a sobering thought, but Raley agreed with a nod.

She began. “Jay and I went into his apartment. I sat down on his sofa, where he joined me. He offered me scotch, but I told him that I wasn’t feeling well, that the wine had hit me hard. He said he was feeling the effects of his drinks, too, and blamed his medications. We were more or less sprawled there, side by side, our heads back.

“He took my hand and told me again that he had a story that was going to blow a huge hole through the PD and city hall. I remember asking him to let me get my notepad out of my purse before he began, but I lacked the wherewithal to do it.

“He said, ‘You won’t need notes, you’ll remember this.’ I didn’t argue. Actually, I was too far gone to care about accuracy, about anything. Jay took off my sandals, put my feet in his lap, and began massaging them. He asked if I was comfy because it was going to be a long story.

“I told him I was almost too comfy, that I could barely keep my eyes open. He laughed and said, ‘Then how ’bout one last roll in the sack for old times’ sake?’ I said no thank you. He said, ‘Ah well, I’m so drunk I don’t think I can get it up anyway.’ And I said, ‘That’s a first, isn’t it?’

“We were still laughing over that when the two men walked in. The one we saw today, and another. They came in by way of the back terrace. One minute they weren’t there. The next they were, as though they had materialized through the French doors.

“My first thought was to wonder why in the world they were wearing gloves on such a warm night. Then I noticed they were latex gloves, but that didn’t particularly alarm me. I don’t remember being afraid. Instead, I remember being
un
afraid. I felt euphoric, indifferent.

“But Jay was sober enough to be concerned. He stood up and confronted them. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’ The one who came to Fordyce’s house said, ‘We’re here to party,’ and pushed Jay back down onto the sofa.

“They ordered him to pour each of us a glass of scotch. They forced us to drink it. Then another. I remember feeling terribly sick. They didn’t give me any more, but they made Jay continue drinking until most of the bottle was empty.”

She stopped talking. Raley looked over at her; her eyes were closed. He reached out and took her hand. “Save the rest for the authorities. You don’t have to tell me any more.”

“Yes, I do.” Giving him a wan smile, she held up the camcorder, reminding him that the whole story needed to be recorded. “Since that night, I have imagined horrible things that could have been done to me. I’m relieved to remember. It was bad, but it could have been much, much worse.

“They made us undress, first Jay and then me. They had to help both of us. Neither of us could stand on our own. I lost minutes of time I’ll probably never get back, because I don’t actually remember getting from the living room to the bedroom, but I remember lying naked on the bed.

“Then one of them—not the one who came to Fordyce’s house, the other one—fondled me. Between my legs. It wasn’t even sexual, it was…like the most demeaning insult. He leered down at me, saying directly into my face, ‘It’s a shame having to waste this nice—’”

She stopped, unable to go on. Raley squeezed her hand. He thought he might be able to shoot somebody after all. If he ever got a chance with either one of these creeps, he could kill them. Easy.

Britt looked away from him, out the passenger window, speaking softly. “His friend laughed all the time he was doing it. That’s probably why I recognized him instantly. I remembered his grin, his obscene laugh. I don’t know how I kept from crying out when he stepped through Fordyce’s front door. I guess because I knew we had to get out of there. I realized if we didn’t, we’d soon be dead. But if I didn’t kill him with that vase, I hope I hurt him very bad. Anyway, back to that night, his partner told him he couldn’t be a Romeo. ‘One smear of spunk other that this guy’s and the plan is blown.’”

“They knew better than to leave DNA evidence.”

“That’s probably what saved me from being raped. It certainly wasn’t a matter of conscience.”

“Was Fordyce mentioned by name? Or George McGowan?”

“No. I’m almost positive. These pros would know to be careful about that, too.”

“What about Jay? What was he doing all this time?”

“He was lying on his back beside me. He didn’t put up a struggle. I think he may already have been unconscious because of all the alcohol he’d consumed.” She sighed and looked over at Raley. “The next thing I remember is waking up the following morning, thinking I had the worst hangover in history, but with no memory of any of this until Fordyce opened his front door to that sadistic bastard.”

“Earlier you told me that, when you woke up, Jay was turned away from you.”

“I suppose after I passed out, they held the pillow over his face and then set the stage to make it look like a drunken lovers’ quarrel that ended in murder.” She stopped recording and turned off the camera but left it plugged in to keep the battery charging.

Raley wanted to go back and mop the marble floor with both Britt’s attacker and Fordyce, but that would be a personally motivated, vengeful, and stupid action. Instead he had to focus on what they must do next. How could he bring Fordyce’s treachery to the public’s attention before Fordyce could have them eliminated? They were driving a marked car. They only had several minutes’ head start.

And Fordyce had facilitators on retainer who responded to his summons at a moment’s notice. There were at least four of them. They acted swiftly and lethally, then faded into the woodwork. They’d had less than one day to orchestrate Jay’s execution, yet they’d carried out the plan perfectly.

This morning, if Britt hadn’t recognized the man and acted swiftly, they would already be dead. By one means or another, they would have been expediently sanctioned. Fordyce could invent any story about how they came to be dead and he would be believed. He could say they’d attacked him, and he’d had no choice but to kill them in self-defense. Or that they had threatened him, and when he tried to defend himself, they fled, never to be seen again.

Whatever story he contrived, it would be believed. Their conversations with Candy and Pat Wickham, Jr., would substantiate that they were aggressively seeking revenge on those who, they believed, had wronged them. It would be surmised that their paranoia had made them dangerously delusional, so that, by the time they barged into the AG’s home, they had lost all reason.

If they died or simply disappeared, Lewis Jones might smell a rat and create some noise, raise some questions. So might Delno Pickens. But who would listen to either of them, the neo-Nazi father of a reprobate and arsonist, and an unwashed old hermit who lived in the swamp?

With him and Britt out of the picture, the police station fire and all those deaths that came after it would remain in the history books as recorded. No one would ever know about the colossal miscarriage of justice being perpetuated as long as George McGowan and Cobb Fordyce were leading their lives with impunity.

Raley couldn’t tolerate even the thought of that. He gripped the steering wheel and reminded himself that he wasn’t dead yet. He might not survive, but as he and Britt sped along the narrow, two-lane road, he resolved that he would fight to his last breath to set things right.

Without the pistol, their only weapon was the video recording. As she had pointed out, it was hardly a signed confession. But it was all they had, so they had to make the most of it.

“Can you make a copy of that video?” he asked.

“I’d need two machines, and videotape only duplicates at real time. I don’t have access to the machines and—”

“We don’t have the time.” But he’d begun to formulate an idea. “Actually, just the threat of the video might be enough.”

“Enough to do what?”

“To get George McGowan to spill his guts.” He glanced at her, saw that she was listening closely. “On the video, Fordyce doesn’t implicate himself, but he doesn’t refute my allegation that the three detectives were guilty. He even went so far as to venture that George had disposed of Jay. I don’t think George will take too kindly to that.”

“He won’t want to take the fall all by his lonesome,” she said. “He’ll want to set the record straight.”

“If I can coax something out of McGowan that would incriminate them both, then the video of Fordyce would be useful after all. We’d have caught him lying and trying to transfer blame.” He motioned toward the camcorder. “Take out that tape and put in a fresh one. Has it been juiced up enough to run? Show me how to operate it.”

“I’ll do the camera work.”

He shook his head. “I’ll go to George. You have another chore.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then said, “You want me to turn myself in.”

“It’s the only way you’ll be safe, Britt.” He outlined his plan to her. When he was finished, she asked, “What about Clark and Javier?”

“I don’t trust the PD. I don’t want you anywhere near police headquarters. McGowan and Fordyce have too many friends there. The tape might conveniently disappear.”

“My lawyer?”

“We’re not sure how trustworthy he is, but we know for certain he’s got no balls.”

She thought about it, then said, “All right, I’ll do it. But it won’t be easy. Especially today.”

“If someone accosts you, you start talking fast, create a scene, draw attention to yourself if you have to do cartwheels up and down Broad Street. Produce that tape, make sure some of your media pals see it. Make yourself heard.”

She smiled at him. “That I can do.”

“But can you drive my pickup?”

“Automatic shift?”

He nodded.

“Then I can drive it.”

The way their luck had been running, they were surprised to find the truck where they’d left it at the deserted airstrip. It was covered with a thick layer of dust but otherwise appeared not to have been touched.

“This spot is still our secret,” Raley remarked as he brought the sedan to a stop.

Britt unplugged the camcorder. “You’re clear on how to use it?”

“A three-year-old could do it.”

They got out of the sedan. Raley climbed behind the steering wheel of his pickup, started the engine, checked the gas gauge. “Half a tank, which should be plenty to get you into Charleston.”

She offered to take the sedan.

He shook his head adamantly. “Too dangerous. They’ll be looking for it. I only hope I can get to George before Fordyce’s heavies get to me.”