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Authors: Margaret Dumas

Tags: #FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General

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BOOK: How to Succeed in Murder
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Chapter Thirty-eight

Bob stood, and swayed on his feet for a moment. Sweat darkened circles under his arms and around the neck of his tired tee-shirt. He patted the pockets of his baggy jeans as if he was looking for something.

“Are you all right?” Brenda asked. She pulled a pack of tissues from her purse and reached over to hand it to him.

“Don’t!” I yelled, but it was too late.

Bob grabbed Brenda by the arm as he pulled a gun from his pocket. He yanked her toward him until they stood together, his gun to her head. He looked as surprised as she did, then both their expressions changed.

He was as terrified as she was.

Harry, Eileen, Simon and I had all leapt to our feet as it happened. Now Bob gestured to us with the gun. “Sit down! I’m in control here.” He swallowed, then looked at Harry.

“Who has the power now?”

His voice shook, but there was a feverish light in his eyes.

“Mr. Adams,” Inspector Yahata spoke calmly. “This is not something you want to do.”

“Don’t tell me what I want!” he yelled, and we all cringed as Brenda squeezed her eyes closed.

Bob licked his lips. “I’ll tell you what I want. I want a helicopter. On the roof. Now.”

Yahata regarded him evenly. “I’m not in a position to get that for you. But if you hand me the gun—”

“I am,” Harry cut the detective off. “I can get you a helicopter and whatever else you want. Just stay calm and don’t hurt anybody.” The expression on his face when he looked at Brenda made my heart stop.

Bob’s eyes darted back and forth between Yahata and my uncle.

I hadn’t brought my gun to the meeting, figuring that between Jack, Mike and Inspector Yahata, we’d have all the firepower we needed. So why weren’t they doing anything?

“I’m going to reach into my pocket for my cell phone,” Harry said. “Nice and easy, and I’ll get you the best goddamn helicopter you’ve ever seen.”

Bob nodded quickly. “Do it.”

Harry reached into one of the vast pockets of his cargo pants and came out with a sleek black cell phone. “See, nice and easy. Now you just think about what else you want. You just name it and I’ll get it for you.”

I shot a look toward Jack, who kept his eyes trained on Bob. He spoke evenly.

“What do you want, Bob? Because I don’t think this is anything you ever wanted.”

“Just be quiet and let me think,” Bob snapped.

“Okay,” Jack said. “Sure. But this can’t be how Jim told you it would all turn out.”

Bob laughed, a little too hysterically for my taste. “Jim told me it was about the money,” he said. “All these years, it was about the money. Jim said the Zakdan board would pay anything for the bug fix, once they knew what we were capable of doing. We were going to make more money than God.”

Harry, who had more money than God, nodded as he dialed his phone.

“Enough money for you to get away from everything,” I said as soothingly as I knew how. “Enough for you to buy that sheep farm in Scotland.”

He stiffened. “How do you know about that?”

“I think it’s a great idea.” I kept my voice soft as my mind raced. “It sounds beautiful. The hills and the heather…”

He relaxed slightly as we heard Harry speaking into his phone about a helicopter and giving the location of the Zakdan building.

“This is all your fault,” Bob said to Jack. “If you hadn’t come along, Jim wouldn’t have gotten so crazy.”

Jack nodded. “He knew we’d found out about him.”

“He should have killed you,” Bob told him. “He should have killed you just like he did Kumar.”

Jim had killed Lalit Kumar. That made sense. Lalit had been a nice guy. So nice a guy that he’d go collect a drunken colleague at one in the morning if he called and said he needed a ride. Jim, with his history of drinking, had probably done it before.

“Kumar knew about the bug,” Jack said.

“That stupid bitch!” Bob spit out. “She was too stupid to know what she’d found, but Jim heard her telling Kumar all about it.”

“Clara,” Morgan spoke. “She told Lalit?”

“Yes, Clara,” Bob snapped. “It was just lucky for her that she had that accident before Jim got his hands on her.” He swallowed. “Jim would have made her suffer.”

Brenda made a little sound, and Bob tightened his grip on her.

“But he did get his hands on Lalit,” I said.

Bob looked at me, and there was pride in his voice. “He was brilliant. Not just in how he shot Kumar to make it look like suicide, but the way he got the note onto Kumar’s computer. Jim could access any computer at Zakdan remotely. It was—”

“It was obviously faked,” Jack finished the sentence. “And it didn’t fool Inspector Yahata here for one minute.”

“Shut up!” Bob yelled. “He should have shot you in your car the first night he tried to get you. But he thought he had more time, and he wanted to make it look like an accident.”

“So he just stole a big truck and tried to slam into us?” Jack said. “This is your brilliant mastermind? A drunken teenager might have tried the same thing.”

If he was deliberately trying to make Bob crazy, it was working.

“Shut up!” he yelled again, squeezing Brenda tighter. “Would a drunken teenager have listened in on your cell phone call to know where you were going that night? Would a drunken teenager talk to everyone you’d met at Zakdan until he found out you live in Pacific Heights? Would a drunken teenager have known the city streets well enough to realize that you’d have to take the tunnel to get to the restaurant from that neighborhood? And be cunning enough know exactly where to wait for you?”

Right. That explained why Stoddard had never made an attempt on us at the house. He only knew our neighborhood.

Bob was still talking, but shifting his attention. “He should have killed you the second time—and he would have, too, if she hadn’t come along.” He gestured at me with the gun.

The hatred when he looked at me was like a physical thing. “Jim was tapping into your email. He read everybody’s email.” He looked back to Jack. “He knew where you’d be that day.”

“Is that Jim’s gun?” I asked, my eyes fixed on the weapon held to my best friend’s head. “The one he used at the museum?” If so, it must have had a silencer then.

Bob nodded. “He gave it to me at the bar that night when he told me what had happened.”

“Did it ever occur to you that, by giving you the gun, your partner was trying to frame you for attempted murder?” Jack asked.

Bob looked like his head was about to explode. “Don’t say that about him! You didn’t know him!”

“True,” Jack agreed. “And now I never will.”

Tears came to Bob’s eyes. “You didn’t have to kill him!”

“I didn’t,” Jack said softly. “He just had an accident.”

He was probably right not to get into the whole MoM thing at that point.

Bob’s eyes widened. “No, you killed him. Don’t lie to me!” He looked over to Harry wildly. “What’s happening with my helicopter?”

“It’s on its way,” Harry said, showing both hands, one still holding the phone. “Just tell me what else you want. Anything you want…”

“Money,” Bob said. “Lots of it. Twenty million dollars.”

“Done,” Harry said, and began dialing another number.

“Fifty,” Bob yelled. “Fifty million.”

Harry nodded and spoke into the phone.

“If you want money,” I said, “you’ve got the wrong hostage.”

Brenda’s eyes widened. “Charley—”

“Take me,” I said. “I’m worth a lot more than she is. Harry’s my uncle.”

Bob looked confused.

“Really,” I told him, my words tumbling out. “Harry’s my uncle and Jack is my husband and I’m rich and I’m a much better hostage.” I’d also rather die than see Brenda get hurt because of a situation I’d put her in.

“Take me.”

“Charley, don’t you dare—” Brenda began.

But Bob acted quickly. He rushed toward me, pushing Brenda to the side, and grabbed me by the elbow, pressing the gun to my temple.

“Charley!” Harry yelled. “Brenda!”

Bob’s movement had been the signal for all hell to break loose. Everyone who had been frozen suddenly sprang into action, shouting and trying to get someplace else. Troy knocked Krissy down in his race to the door.

“All right!” Jack shouted above the chaos. “That’s enough!”

He reached over and grabbed the gun from Bob’s hand, neatly snapping his wrist as he did so.

We all stared at him, including Bob.

Jack looked at me. “You don’t think I’d be crazy enough to let him bring a loaded gun into the room, do you?”

Which just set off another round of shouting. Bob, as Inspector Yahata moved in to handcuff him. Brenda, punching me in the arm and asking how dare I do such a thing, Harry, babbling incoherently as he pushed his way over to scoop Brenda and me up in the same crushing hug, and me, as soon as I was free, yelling at my husband that he might tell a person what the plan was once in a while.

Then Eileen and Simon were jumping up and down and hugging, and Troy, Tonya and Krissy were looking at us like we were insane, and Morgan was shaking Mike’s hand and seeming much older than when I’d first met him.

Jack put his arm around me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “That was a truly stupid thing to do.” He handed the gun to Yahata.

“Look who’s talking. When did you empty out the bullets?”

“Right before the meeting,” Mike answered, slapping Jack on the back. “I distracted Bob while Jack slipped into his office.”

“And you knew where to look for the gun…?”

“It might not have been my first time in his desk drawer,” Jack said.

“Hey!” Harry yelled. “Who wants to go for a ride in a helicopter?”

I looked up at Jack. “I think I’d just as soon go home.”

“Right!” Simon hollered. “We’re going to Charley’s house! Last one there drinks the cheap champagne!”

As if I’d ever serve cheap champagne.

Chapter Thirty-nine

The Four Seasons at Langkawi. The most gorgeous, relaxing, sun-soaked beach resort I had been able to book on no notice. The web site had said Langkawi was an archipelago in the Andaman Sea, and while I had no real idea where that was, it sounded just about far enough away from Zakdan, Inc. to make me happy.

Jack and I were on our honeymoon.

About damn time.

The room, all gloriously polished wood and clean, simple furnishings, had one wall that swung open completely, revealing a private deck and a pristine white beach beyond. It was exotically beautiful, a genuine tropical paradise.

And it was raining.

“They said this only happens in September and October.” I pulled a hibiscus-print sarong around myself and sat up to look out at the meteorological anomaly that hadn’t let up since we’d gotten there.

“You can never trust a weatherman,” Jack stated. Which was a slightly sore subject, since he sometimes claimed to be one, but as he was naked and in bed next to me, and at least close to a beach, I let it pass.

“What did Brenda have to say?” He propped himself up on one elbow, making strategic adjustments to the sheet.

I might have wanted to get away from it all, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t call home every day. I’d spoken to Brenda that morning.

“Morgan Stokes offered her a job at Zakdan,” I told him. “He wants her to come work with Tonya in Human Resources, and lead the effort to draft a new corporate code of conduct. The salary is
huge
.”

Jack’s eyebrows went up. “Is she taking it?”

I shook my head. “Not a chance. She says in academia at least the backstabbing is all verbal. And she’s still taking that group of students to Europe.”

Jack looked at me carefully. “Is Harry going with her?”

I looked at him more carefully. “I didn’t ask.”

I was slowly adjusting to the fact that there might—okay there probably was—a relationship between my best friend and the madman who’d driven me crazy most of my life.

It was likely to be a long period of adjustment.

Jack wisely changed the subject. “How’s Eileen?”

“Brenda says she’s swamped since she went back to work. Oh, and Anthony keeps asking her if they can go see Mike’s office with all the computers.” I reached for the room service menu. “He now officially wants to be a geek when he grows up.”

“There are worse things,” Jack responded. “And he’s on the right track. If he hadn’t found that bug in the pirate game, we might not have been able to trace the virus back as far as we did.”

Jack and Mike had decompiled the pirate game and apparently found something like a signature in the virus that predated anyone but Jim Stoddard at Zakdan. They’d known then that the exec had to have been behind the years of sabotage. And that his long-time colleague, Bob, must have helped him cover it up.

“But you’d have known about Stoddard anyway,” I said, flipping through the menu. “I can’t believe he was stupid enough to keep a journal—or at least, if he was such a genius, he might have put it in code or something.”

The silence from my husband was profound. I looked at him.

“He didn’t keep a journal, did he?”

Jack shrugged. “Yahata had to say something to get Bob talking.”

I stared out at the rain-soaked beach. “Do you think Mike and the hackers-for-hire have finished cleaning up the code yet?”

“They’ll never get everything out of applications that have already been deployed, but they should be able to strip the virus from anything that gets shipped in the future. And they’ll take out all Mike’s spyware while they’re at it.”

“But the virus is still out there? Lurking?”

Jack nodded.

“And whose finger is on the button now? The three best hackers in the world?” Somehow, that didn’t give me a warm glow of security.

“No, only Mike knows all the components of the trigger.”

Mike. I was going to have to remember to be nicer to him.

I tossed the menu aside and stretched.

“Don’t tell me you’re not hungry?” Jack said.

“I just remembered we have all that fruit.”

There had been a gorgeous platter of tropical fruits, most of which I couldn’t possibly identify, waiting for us when we’d checked in. I went to get it, and brought it back to the bed, along with a sharp knife.

“What do you suppose this one is?” I poked a green spiky thing with the knife.

Jack took both dangerous objects from me. “I have no idea.” He cut in. “But it smells good.”

He gave me a sliver of fruit on the point of the knife. Whatever it was, it was yummy.

I sighed happily and stretched out next to him.

“This is more like it. Being fed exotic fruits by a naked man in the tropics. This is how I should spend my life.”

“You’ll be bored by Tuesday,” Jack informed me. “And I’m not entirely naked. Don’t make this any more depraved than it already is.”

“A sheet doesn’t count,” I told him. But he may have been right about the boredom thing. Paradise is great in small doses, but I was already starting to think about what Kevin Allred, the decorator Morgan had recommended, might be doing to my house.

I rolled over toward Jack. “Whatever shall we do next, to keep away the tedium?” I used my huskiest voice and wiggled my eyebrows for emphasis. “Since it’s still raining—”

“I thought we might read something.”

I blinked. That was so not where I had been going.

Jack was looking through the fruit again. He hesitated over a mango, and I willed him to choose it because mangos are so juicy, and I could think of some fabulous ways to deal with that problem, given our current state of undress.

He was still talking, I noticed. “Since it’s raining, and since I need at least a few more minutes to recover before we do what I suspect you want to do with this passionfruit…”

Passionfruit, mango, whatever.

“…maybe you want to read something?”

“I didn’t bring any books.”

He nodded. “Neither did I, but I brought a play. It’s the weirdest thing. I don’t know how it got into my luggage—which the TSA would not be happy about—but there it was.”

He licked his fingers clean, reached around to the other side of the bed, and came back with a manuscript.

I looked at the cover.


Power.

I continued reading.

“By Harry Van Leewen.”

I stared at my husband. “You have got to be kidding me.”

He grinned. “You’d be surprised. It’s not bad.”

There was only one possible response.

“Damn.”

BOOK: How to Succeed in Murder
6.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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