The Melody Lingers On (24 page)

Derek Landry smiled. “We understand each other perfectly, Countess. I will arrange the contract. My retainer is two hundred thousand dollars.”

R
anger sat in the living room in Dr. Sean Cunningham’s home. Sean had called him and said he was having a meeting of some of the victims of
the fraud—a kind of support group. “It gives everyone an opportunity to be heard.”

The last thing in the world Ranger wanted to do was to go to Cunningham’s home and exchange sad stories with other people. His own story was the only one he was interested in but he sensed
that Dr. Cunningham was worried about him.

If he only knew, Ranger thought. If he only knew.

He didn’t want Sean to get even a hint of what he was planning. Sean was a psychiatrist. He might be able to get me committed, Ranger thought. He might say that I am a danger to society.
He had read about cases like that.

I am not a danger to society, he thought. Only to a few people who deserve it.

He listened as the others spoke. One couple who were well into their eighties said they had had to move into their son’s home after they had lost everything. The wife was speaking.
“I always got along so well with my daughter-in-law. But it’s different now. My husband and I are both hard of hearing. We always have the volume turned up too high on the television.
Sometimes they go out at night just to get away from us. There’s nothing we can do.” Her voice broke. “There’s nothing we can do.”

At least you still have each other, Ranger thought bitterly.

It reminded Ranger of when he and Judy visited Parker Bennett’s office. Comfortable chairs, not formal or anything. Parker would have his secretary bring in a tray of coffee and assorted
muffins. While they were eating they would listen to Parker as he boasted that he was the broker for people who did not understand the financial world. He would see to it that they would be
comfortable in their retirement years, far more comfortable than what their savings could yield in the bank at a mere 1 or 2 percent interest.

Ranger could still see Judy smiling gratefully at Parker, flattered that he had taken them on as clients. She had dared to dream of a future of comfort and security with Ranger and perhaps some
small luxuries.

After we signed up with him, we kept putting more and more of our savings into his fund. We economized. We
saved
to give him more money. A small sacrifice now for a wonderful payday
down the road; that’s what we believed. That was what he convinced us it would be.

The voices had begun again. Voices sometimes soothing, often terrifying. He remembered first hearing them when he was a teenager. At times they roared at him like a howling beast from hell. Then
Judy came into his life. His beloved Judy. The voices had dulled and then gone silent. He had thought they were gone forever but then they came back. He wondered what Dr. Cunningham’s
reaction would be if he knew that he kept a loaded gun in his apartment.

He had come to like the feel of the gun in his hands. He had practiced loading and unloading it. For the past week he had been going to a shooting range. He was sure that by now he was as good a
shot as any cop on the force.

When it was Ranger’s turn to speak he did his best to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He told the group about Judy’s stroke. “It happened just days after we found out
that we had been wiped out.

“I used to carry her in my arms to the bathroom,” he whispered. “I didn’t mind. I loved her. I would have done anything for her. My only prayer was that she would stay
with me. Then a month ago she had another stroke and died.”

“She couldn’t stay with you, Ranger,” Sean interjected gently. “She was just too ill.”

“I wanted to be close to Judy so I put her ashes in something I could wear around my neck,” he continued, watching the unwanted sympathy in the expressions of his listeners.
“But now I only wear it at night. That way I don’t feel so alone.”

Cunningham was nodding like he was approving of what he was saying.

If you only knew, doctor. Ranger closed his lips to stop the laugh he could feel coming on.

The last member of the group was finishing his boring story. Some old guy, he was so broke that Meals on Wheels brought him breakfast and dinner five days a week.

When it was time to go Ranger thanked Dr. Cunningham and assured him again that he was doing well. It was ten minutes of five. In another ten minutes Eric Bennett would be leaving his office. A
couple of times now Ranger had watched from down the block to see Eric coming in the morning and leaving in the afternoon. Eric’s apartment was not far from his office. He usually walked to
and from work.

I could pick him off any time I wanted, Ranger thought. But that would be a mistake. I’d never get a chance at his mother. They’re living on my money right now. Mine and
Judy’s. The anger inside him was again boiling over.

When he went outside there was a light snow falling. He liked the feel of it under his shoes. He barely noticed the people who were on the street hurrying home at the end of the day. He was
walking toward Eric Bennett’s office building. He stood outside it. Fifteen minutes later Eric came out the revolving door. Ranger let him get half a block ahead and then began to follow
him.

This time Eric didn’t go straight home to his apartment. He stopped at a bar on West Thirteenth Street and was joined by a couple of men his age. Peering through the window Ranger watched
as they laughed together.

Having a good time? He seethed. Not for much longer, I promise you. Not for much longer. He walked the two miles back to his apartment. Without taking off his coat, he sat down on his couch.
Eric is staying in the city tonight. That means he’ll go visit his mother tomorrow night, Ranger reasoned. I’ll park down the block from his garage and follow him to New Jersey.

It’s fun to follow him, a voice whispered. His father had control of you and every dollar you ever saved but now you have control of him. Whenever you want you can aim the gun at him and
watch him die.

Ranger realized he had not taken off his still-damp overcoat. He got up, shrugged out of it, and dropped it on the couch.

He hadn’t eaten any lunch but he wasn’t hungry. Judy never drank. When she was alive he had had only the occasional beer or scotch. Now he got up, walked into the kitchen to get a
glass, and opened a bottle of scotch. He sat down again on the couch and poured the scotch into the glass. He filled it to the top. There was even a little that spilled over on the table. He began
to drink.

Two hours later, the bottle empty, he fell asleep on the couch, his still-damp overcoat covering him.

O
n Tuesday night Ranger followed Eric’s car to New Jersey. To his surprise Eric did not drive to his mother’s house but instead turned
off the highway in a town called Verona and stopped at a restaurant.

He doesn’t know me, Ranger thought. I can eat dinner here. I’m dressed okay.

He went into the restaurant. He could see into the dining room where Eric was sitting. He asked the hostess for a corner table near the window. That way he would be able to see Eric knowing that
if he wanted to, he could kill him right now.

A couple of minutes later a really good-looking broad joined Eric. With loathing, Ranger watched as Eric stood up and kissed her. Was she the one in the car that day when he was driving past his
mother’s town house? he wondered. When Eric and this girlfriend sat down they began smiling and talking while he sat alone. He noticed another man by himself at a table near them. The rest of
the room was filling with couples and small groups. Everyone appeared to be having a real good time and real thrilled to be together. The more people that came in, the lonelier and angrier he felt.
He did not taste his meal; his focus was on Eric and his girlfriend.

When Eric signaled for his check, Ranger did the same. He had parked his car across the street. He sure wasn’t going to bring his old wreck to be valet parked. Then, sitting in it, he
watched as the valet pulled up with the girlfriend’s car first and then Eric’s. Ranger was surprised to see them in separate cars.

He followed the girlfriend as she drove into Manhattan and watched her pull into the garage at 240 West Fifty-Sixth Street.

He was about to drive away when he saw her coming up the ramp. Where is she going? He was planning to follow her but then she walked to the very next building and the doorman stepped aside to
let her in.

Nice building. We never had a doorman. But you have one. Maybe Eric’s paying for your apartment. He bought you a fancy dinner, but it was on me.

Ranger’s anger had a new target.

The pretty young woman with long reddish hair who had been grinning happily at Eric Bennett.

R
udy Schell received an interesting phone call from a lawyer he knew by reputation and did not like. He considered Derek Landry the kind of
attorney who gave the legal profession a bad name. Landry had represented many high-powered people who got in trouble taking or giving kickbacks. He had an astonishingly high success rate at
getting his clients exceptionally good deals.

To receive a phone call from him was an unwelcome surprise. Landry was asking for a meeting on a most urgent matter, a matter he knew Rudy would be keenly interested in. “It concerns
Parker Bennett.”

It was an effort for Rudy to keep his voice noncommittal. “I certainly will make time for you, Mr. Landry. When would you like to meet?”

“This afternoon.”

“Three o’clock?” Rudy suggested.

“See you then.”

When Derek Landry arrived at Rudy’s promptly at the stroke of three, Rudy took him into one of the private offices used for face-to-face meetings.

He closed the door and gestured for Derek to sit down.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Landry?” he asked.

“This is a very delicate matter,” Landry replied, his tone hushed. “I have a client who is most reliable, who will be able to assist you in locating Parker Bennett.”

“Reliable?” Rudy asked.

“Absolutely. But we insist on complete anonymity. I am not authorized to provide details unless and until you express interest in our proposal. My client also wants the reward money and a
guarantee of full immunity from prosecution. I can assure you that my client played no role whatsoever in the Parker Bennett fraud scheme. My client, under threat from Parker Bennett, has been
forced to accept a very small percent of the proceeds of the fraud after Mr. Bennett disappeared.”

“What you are asking for is a tall order, Mr. Landry. Ordinarily I would have to know the name of your client before considering your offer. If your client’s role is exactly as you
describe it, then yes, I will consider it. And as I am sure you know, a decision such as this must go through the highest channels before an answer can be given.”

“Of course.” Derek smiled. “I hope to hear from you soon, Mr. Schell. I will see myself out.”