Endgame (12 page)

Sandra looked up sharply. “She said she felt guilty because she was in bed with you when the girl overdosed.”

Spike shrugged. “I don't recall.”

“Why did Janice throw the party?” Crispin asked.

“When she heard we were having a CD launch, she offered to host a little after-party at her place. She had this walk-up flat near the market in Seattle.”

Max looked up sharply. “Sami Lee and me met at that party. I don't recall seeing this girl till she got sick.”

Sami Lee nodded in agreement. “She was a nobody. I don't even remember her.”

“She came backstage at one of our concerts,” Pete said. “We all met her.”

“Well, I never met her,” Sami Lee said impatiently, lighting up a cigarette. “In any case, we know who gave her the ecstasy. That was Newt Merton.”

Sandra looked up at the sound of the name. Merton? How had that fact escaped her all these years? She must have been stoned not to realize the man she sold prescription medication to was the same pusher who gave the dead girl her lethal drugs at the party.

Max nodded. “Newt was this kid who supplied us with stuff in the early days. He was the best, so we let him hang around the band. His dope was always pure, always quality, but I guess that night he got hold of some bad shit.”

Spike shook his head. “They said it was the drug mafia trying to put the little guys out of business. Someone messed with his stuff that night and it was lethal. At least, that's what they made out at his trial.”

At that moment, Sandra drew a line connecting the last few dots in the mysterious outline of events. She nearly gasped as she turned to David.

“Your last name is Merton. It says so on the file upstairs.” Her voice was barely audible.

For a moment, David didn't speak. He looked at the faces staring at him.

“I knew it,” Verna whispered.

“Whoa! I'm just a real-estate agent,” David said. “I've never met any of you people before.”

“It can't be him,” said Spike. “He doesn't look anything like Newt.”

“That's right,” David said. “I don't know any of you, either.”

“I know how we'll know for sure,” Max said. “Roll up your sleeves.”

David snorted. “You think I'm a junkie and that will prove I sold dope?”

Max leaned forward, speaking with a snarl. “No — I don't. But I remember Newt Merton had a tattoo of a seahorse on his left biceps. So let's see if you have the same tattoo.”

David licked his lips nervously. He looked around the table.

“It can't be him,” Spike said, watching David. “No way!”

“Show us,” Max said. “Or we'll make you.”

David sighed and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the outline of a seahorse on his biceps.

“Holy shit!” Spike exclaimed. “You're Newt Merton?”

“It's been a long time, Spike,” he said. “People change.”

“You're the guy who went to jail,” Max said slowly.

“That's right. Four years of my life it cost me,” David said darkly.

“It cost Zerin Ames more than that,” said Verna.

David's fist smashed down on the coffee table, startling them all.

“Don't get all fucking high and mighty on me,” he said through clenched teeth. “You guys invited me to that party in the first place. Anyway, I'm clean now. I haven't sold drugs for twenty years.”

“Not since they put you in jail,” said Pete.

“That's right. I went to jail for you fuckers, and don't you forget it. I pleaded no contest so the rest of you could get off.”

“You got paid for it,” Spike said. He looked around at the others. “In case anybody wonders why Newt went to jail without a fuss, Harvey concocted a scheme with Noni Embrem. They arranged to pay him fifty thousand bucks to go quietly. That's what was in the envelope Noni handed him before the trial.”

David shook his head. “They only paid me to plead no contest. Noni promised me I'd get off with parole. He never said anything about going to jail.”

“Tough luck,” Max told him. “You gotta play the cards you're dealt.”

David glared at him. “In that case, I had a crooked dealer.”

Spike whistled. “So you must still be pretty pissed off about that. What's to say you weren't the one to do in Noni Embrem?”

David lunged across the coffee table as Spike retreated. Max and Pete restrained the real-estate agent, but barely.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” David screamed.

“Listen to me!” Max shouted. “If it's revenge you're after, you already got the guy who hung you out to dry.”

“I didn't kill him,” David said. “I didn't kill anybody!”

“Tell that to Zerin Ames,” Spike said.

David spat at him. “Fuck you! That was an accident and you're all as responsible as me.”

Spike shrugged. “The court decided differently. As for who killed Noni Embrem, you're the one who said Edwards took the cellphones. For all we know, you could have taken them to frame him.”

“Go to hell!”

Max and Pete released David's arms. He slumped back into a chair.

“It's true,” Verna said. “Edwards left after he got a text message telling him to come and pick Harvey up immediately. I heard his BlackBerry buzzing. I watched him read something. Then he left. As far as we know, he was intending to come right back.”

“Then what happened to him?” David sneered. “Are you saying I killed Edwards, too? I'm still here. I didn't leave in the boat.”

Verna looked at him sullenly. “I'm just saying it's easy to point fingers at people who aren't here, that's all.”

“Well, you seem to have no problem pointing them at people who
are
here, sugar,” David said.

Verna wrapped her arms around her chest and sat back, pouting.

“In any case, we're just discussing the possibilities,” Spike said. “No one said you killed anybody.”

“Well, discuss someone else for a change,” David replied.

“If I may make a suggestion?” Crispin's elegant tones broke in.

“Go ahead, Crisp,” Max said. He glanced around at the others. “We're all ears here.”

“Thank you.” Crispin nodded. “Clearly, it serves no purpose for us to start tearing one another apart. For all we know, this Edwards — if that's even his real name — could be heading back to get the rest of us right at this moment, with or without Harvey.”

A few heads nodded in agreement.

Crispin continued. “I suggest we do a search of the premises for the cellphones, for a start, and then continue with David's original suggestion to search the rest of the island.”

“A good idea,” Max concurred. “Let's get started right now.”

T
hey
all agreed the obvious place to start was with Edwards's room. The door was unlocked and the room sparsely furnished. It held fewer designer touches than the guest rooms on the upper floors. The search took less than two minutes. Apart from a few articles of clothing, the dresser drawers were empty. A single suitcase stood upright in the only closet. It, too, was empty. No one had really expected to find a stash of cellphones hidden in the room, but they were pleased to discover the ring of master keys. It lay on the stand next to Edwards's bed, as though he'd left it there expecting to come back for it.

Spike was jubilant as he brandished it. “A fucking triumph, I call it. Yeah, baby! This way, when we lock our doors and go to sleep at night, at least we know he can't break in.” He seemed thrilled at the prospect of beating Edwards at his own game.

“Now that we've got these, it should be easy to search the rest of the place,” David said. He looked around at the others. “Are we all game?”

“Fucking right,” Max said. “Why don't we start with the guest rooms?”

“Do you really think he might have been tricky enough to hide the phones in one of our bedrooms?” Spike asked.

“Who knows? I wouldn't put it past the guy,” Max said.

They searched the entire house, starting with the third floor. Because of the building's minimalist design, it was quick work going through the dressers and drawers and looking under beds. There were no other possible hiding spots in any of the upstairs suites.

The only exception was in Verna's room on the second floor, where a heating duct lay partially unhinged in a corner nearest the window. They quickly unscrewed it using a quarter. Spike poked his head in the space. It hummed eerily. He looked around, declared it empty, and shut the vent again.

The search brought them back downstairs. They went carefully through the dining room, followed by the parlour. Verna, Crispin, Sami Lee, and Sandra sat and watched while Max, Pete, Spike, and David went over every piece of furniture and every corner of both rooms that might possibly provide a hiding spot. Still nothing.

The drawing room proved more difficult, partially because of the instruments set up on-stage. With some effort, Max, Pete, and David managed to lift the wooden platform a few inches while Spike looked beneath. It too was empty. They soon realized the cases housing the sound equipment would make a perfect hiding place for something as small as a cellphone, but again had to admit they were out of luck in finding anything. A further search of the mud room, hall closets, and various nooks on the ground floor failed to reveal anything of interest.

They looked at one another in bewilderment.

“I suppose he could have taken them with him,” Spike said.

Verna shook her head. “I saw him leave. He didn't take anything with him. He just put on his rain gear and left. He seemed to be in a great hurry.”

“There's nowhere else to look then,” Max said. “They're not in the house. Maybe he put them in the boathouse.”

Sandra stood. “I'll just go put the kettle on,” she said. “I promise I won't fill it so full this time.”

When she left, David snapped his fingers. “The kitchen! Of course — how could we be so stupid?”

Spike laughed. “Sure. That's where he spent all his time.”

They barged into the kitchen, startling Sandra.

“Don't worry,” Spike told her. “We're not here to bother you, but we've looked through the entire building and this is the last place where he could have hid anything from us.”

Sandra turned the burner down low and left the room. The four men went through the lower cupboards and pantry in short order. David was the first to notice the lock on the cupboard door over the stove.

“There!” he said. “It's the last place left in the entire house.”

Spike grabbed a nearby stool and stood on it. Most of the keys on the chain were for guest room doors, but there were three smaller keys. The second one opened the lock. Spike reached in and grabbed the canvas sack stuffed near the back of the cupboard.

“Gotcha!” he cried, shaking the bag as he lifted it down to David.

David reached in and pulled out several cellphones. He glanced up with a look of relief.

“I told you it was that bastard!” he cried.

Spike nodded. “Apologies, mate. I believe you now. Sorry I didn't before.”

David shook his head. “It's understandable. But I didn't come here to kill anybody. I was duped by Harvey like the rest of you.”

Max had his red phone in hand. He kept pressing the On button.

“Fucker's not working,” he growled.

He grabbed a second phone and then a third. They all failed to respond.

“Fuck!” he shouted. “He's taken the batteries out of them.”

David looked in the bottom of the bag then shook his head. “They're not here.”

The faces looking at one another around the kitchen betrayed their fear.

David climbed back up on the stool and felt in the back of the cupboard. He pulled out a small metal container and shook it. There was something inside, but not batteries. He pried the lid off and sniffed the crystalline contents cautiously.

“I can't fucking believe it!” Max said, smashing his phone onto the tiled floor where it splintered and flew in pieces around the room.

“Of course you can,” David said, stepping down off the stool. “He's planned this from the start. Who's to say Harvey even had anything to do with it?”

“Huh?” Max looked at him. “What do you mean?”

David held out the metal container. “I don't know for sure, but my guess is this is oxalic acid. Want to bet that's what Noni died of?”

Spike looked at him. “You still think this is all Edwards's doing? I'm beginning to agree with you.” He turned to Max. “Did you even talk to Harvey before coming here?”

Max held his gaze for a moment then slowly shook his head. “No. I got a letter. You?”

Spike shook his head. “I got a letter, too. A fucking letter in the mail addressed to my real name, Elyot Jones. Who even sends letters anymore?”

Max let out a sigh of exasperation. “So you're saying Harvey might not even be behind any of this? You think it may all be this Edwards character?”

Spike looked at Pete. “Did you talk to Harvey, Pete?”

Pete just shook his head. The Voice was preparing to say something. He could feel the pressure mounting, but so far it hadn't spoken.

“So then it must be Edwards,” Spike said. “But why?”

David spoke up. “I talked to him very briefly yesterday. I got the impression that he had an obsession with that girl's death. I think he blamed you for what happened after he dropped her off at the hospital.”

“Why us?” Max asked.

David hesitated. “Because you two” — here he looked over at Max and Spike — “were the ones who delivered Zerin Ames to his cab down the street from the party. You were the ones who duped him into taking her to the hospital.”

“But we left a note for the emergency ward,” Spike said. “It was so they would know what she was suffering from. We couldn't know he wouldn't take her inside. Hell — we even paid the guy! We didn't know he'd panic and lose the note when he got there. That was his fault!”

“I doubt he'd see it that way,” David said wryly. He thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, though, he didn't give any indication that he recognized me. So how would he know who I was? You guys didn't even recognize me at first.”

“What does that matter?” Spike asked. “He's done his homework. You saw those charts listing all our medical histories, allergies, likes and dislikes. I think this is some sort of psycho mastermind we're dealing with here. Who knows what he's capable of?”

The wail of the teakettle interrupted their conversation. They heard Sandra's voice outside the door.

“I'll get the tea,” she said. “Anybody for milk or sugar? Verna? Sami Lee?”

“I already told you, I don't eat sugar,” Sami Lee said snarkily.

“Yes, I'm sorry. I forgot.”

“Sweetener for me, please,” said Crispin. “I'm diabetic.”

“Yes, sorry,” Sandra said. “I did remember that.”

“Milk for me, please,” said Verna. “If you can find any.”

Inside the kitchen, the men heard Sandra approaching.

“Let's not say anything about the oxalic acid right now,” David told them. He jerked his head in the direction of the next room. “Too upsetting.”

“Agreed,” said Spike.

Sandra entered the kitchen to find the four men staring at her.

“We found the cellphones,” Spike said, nodding to the canvas bag on the countertop. “But nobody's going to be making any calls for the time being.”

Sandra nodded with frightened eyes. “We heard you talking in the other room.”

She busied herself with the tea tray and left the men to themselves.

Max tapped David on the shoulder and nodded in Sandra's direction. “It might not be a bad idea to keep an eye on her,” he said quietly. “Till we figure out exactly what's going on here. You said yourself, she could be in on it with him.”

David nodded and went over to Sandra. “I'll give you a hand.”

She looked at him and shrugged. She hadn't forgotten his come-on last night. “I'm quite capable, but suit yourself. You can get the milk and sugar, if you want.”

The others went back to the parlour. There was a sombre tone in the air. Outside, the rain lashed down on the trees and rocks with a tremendous weeping sound. Out on the ocean, the waves were tumultuous.

Spike stood at the window looking out. Maybe Edwards was all alone behind this, he reasoned. Or maybe Harvey and Edwards were together in trying to finish them all off and were just waiting out the storm before they returned. Or maybe this nonsense with the phones was really just another of Harvey's silly pranks and they'd all laugh about it in a day or two. Maybe.

A clanking from the kitchen distracted his thinking.

“Need any help in there?” Spike called out.

“Nah. We're fine,” came David's reply. “Be out in a minute.”

Sandra set out eight cups and saucers and placed them on the tray. David reached into the fridge for the milk while she poured boiling water into the teapot. The light in the refrigerator was off and it took a while to find the container in the dark. It lay behind several large juice cartons and a variety of beer bottles. As he reached in the back of the fridge, it occurred to him that it wasn't just the light that was off. The fridge was silent as well.

He set the jug on the counter for Sandra and looked in the space between the fridge and the wall. He could just make out the plug tilting at an odd angle in the socket. Maybe while they'd been checking the cupboard for the cellphones someone had jarred the fridge and the plug had come loose.

Sandra looked over at him with curiosity.

“Fridge is unplugged,” he told her.

He groped around behind, feeling for the plug with his face pressed up against the cool of the fridge. He couldn't look at the plug and reach for it at the same time. In fact, there was just enough space for his arm to … there. He'd got hold of it. His fingers grasped the end as he reached around to plug it in.

It was at that precise moment that he recalled where he'd seen Verna before today. He almost laughed out loud at the realization, but then a sudden current of fear struck him like a stream of cold water. The more he thought about it, however, the surer he was. It would certainly shake them all up when he told them.

David felt the plug slip into place as a crackling sound filled the air. His scream tore through the house.