Trouble in Rooster Paradise (31 page)

After our tale was told, we all rode in a
silence imposed by Britt’s need to digest what she’d heard. I kept
up my furtive glances at her in the mirror. She sat composed but
with a sour mouth for most of the trip north. A time or two I saw
her quickly pin down her bottom lip with her teeth as it started to
tremble. The unfolding events had shaken her world. I
empathized.

I finally broke the quiet when I saw the
gatehouse in the distance. “How would Mrs. Arnot have gotten past
the guard?”

“
She has friends in this community,”
Britt said blankly, in almost a whisper. “She’ll have gained
entrance easily. I’m sure of it.”

“
The question is, old top, just how
are
we
going to get in?” asked Walter.

I was hoping that the ex-bouncer Charlie would
be on duty and remember me from before. But Charlie had been
replaced by a guard named Bill. He approached the passenger side of
my Chevy as Walter rolled down the window.

Bill looked at Walter without any kind of
reaction. “Costume party at the Nudell’s?” he asked. “Go right on
in, sir.”

And so we did. When we rounded the first turn I
picked up the speed.

Swinging into the driveway, we saw Blanche’s
Packard parked closer to the house than the garage.

The front door was open, the foyer
empty.

We made our way to the parlor where I’d had my
talk with Addison Darcy. Hildy, the lean and scary housekeeper, was
lying on the floor. I felt for a pulse. She was alive but now quite
immune to more than just charming smiles.

Walter picked Hildy up and placed her on a
couch as I took my .38 from its holster. A telephone sat on a small
table near the doorway. I picked up the receiver. The line was
dead.

A carpeted corridor shot off to our left and
another corridor with a bare hardwood floor ran in the opposite
direction. Britt and I took the latter. Walter whispered after us
that he’d catch up after tending to Hildy.

The corridor led to a sliding door with
polished mahogany panels. The door was open partway.

We headed for it.

We didn’t think to kick our shoes off. We
clattered and clacked on the hardwood despite our best efforts. A
trumpet blast wouldn’t have announced our arrival any
better.

“
Whoever you are, if you have a
weapon, I advise you to drop it before you enter,” said a feminine
voice that still sounded half its age.

I slipped my gun in its holster and took
Britt’s purse from her and let it fall to the floor. It made a fair
cluh-thump
noise. We waited a few seconds before she spoke
again, “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in. Come in.”

Britt and I obeyed.

Addison Darcy’s study was huge and impressive,
with soft rugs, dark-paneled walls, carved furniture and
floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Blanche Arnot sat on a
leather-upholstered settee built into the nook of a large bay
window. She was pointing a small automatic at us. On the rug in the
middle of the room sat Addison Darcy. His hands were tied behind
his back. His hair was tousled. He’d aged since our chat. He looked
very old and very frightened.

Mrs. Arnot gave us a courtly little nod as we
entered. “Ah, Mr. Nilson, and you too, Britt dear. How delicious. I
suppose I’m not really surprised that you’ve joined us,” she said.
Her casual tone gave me a chill. “Mr. Darcy and I were just
discussing old times. Reminiscing, you might say. I think it wise
if you both put your hands in the air.” Her request was cordial,
even motherly, but to disobey would have been deadly.

The ultimate way of classifying people is by
the acts they’re willing to commit. A pending act was evident. But
was Blanche Arnot evil or just maniacal? Or maybe both?

“
It doesn’t need to happen like
this, Mrs. Arnot,” I said.

“
Please, call me Blanche, Gunnar.
You don’t mind if I call you Gunnar, do you? The way things are
shaping up, we really should be on a first name basis, don’t you
think?” She smiled. It was an expansive though intimate smile, but
the madness in her eyes was just enough to make her look
ugly.

“
Mrs. Arnot—
Blanche
. There’s
no need for this. There are other ways to get justice,” I
said.

She sniffed derisively. “
His
kind buys
justice,” she said, nodding her head at Darcy. “They always have.
They always will. It’s been a long time coming, but this one’s luck
has finally run out.”

Britt and I traded glances. Startled eyes
looked at me under the narrow crooks of her brows. When Britt
spoke, her voice was unsteady.

“
Blanche … please. Why don’t
you just put that gun away?”

Blanche’s pale mouth seemed to detect an
unwelcome taste. “You of all people should be grateful to me for
this, my dear. It was this lustful animal who killed
Alexis.”

Addison Darcy was shaking slightly. He looked
pleadingly at Britt. His cheeks glistened from the tear trails.
Where the hell was Walter? I wondered.

Blanche looked at the floor. I toyed with the
idea of reaching for my .38, but gave it up as a bad job just as
she raised her eyes.

“
It was you that knocked me out. And
then you killed Guy de Carter,” I said.

“
That’s correct,” she
said.

Britt’s body braced as if absorbing a
blow.

I continued, “And after you killed him, you
left me to be the patsy.”

Blanche’s mouth spread out into an apologetic
smile. “That’s correct, Gunnar. No hard feelings I hope. My, but
you are deliciously astute. What else have you deduced?”

“
Enough, I think. You, Guy de
Carter, Christine, and Meredith were in cahoots. Blackmail. The
girls seduced ’em. de Carter took their pictures. And you collected
the hush money. Discreetly, of course. Things were going just swell
until Christine got greedy. Maybe she even figured she could strike
out on her own and eliminate management. Whatever the case, de
Carter killed her and tried to make it look like Dirk Engstrom did
it. Dirk’s angry outburst in the store was an opportunity to pin
the blame on him that de Carter couldn’t pass up.”

Blanche gave me the approving look a teacher
reserves for her star pupil. “I misjudged Guy de Carter. He merely
possessed a kind of raw cunning. The cunning of an alley rat.” She
shrugged. “Both Guy and I were in the store that day by sheer
coincidence. I was hoping to negotiate with Christine. She got
greedy, just as you say. And Meredith … well, she had way too
much pluck for her own good. But greed can be dealt with and pluck
is a virtue, after all. The girls weren’t supposed to die. I didn’t
want that. Guy just got too nervous, that’s all. That’s the trouble
with womanizers. They don’t know women in the ways that really
matter.” She looked menacingly at Darcy.

Britt remained quiet. Her eyes were as big as
prize cherries.

I continued, “You tried to make me think de
Carter was a harmless ladies’ man. Did
you
sic him on me,
Blanche? Did you want him to kill me?”

“
Gracious no, Gunnar. Like I said,
Guy got nervous about the girls, and he grew absolutely frantic
when you began poking and probing. I must say, his attempts on your
life were clumsy and amateurish at best. But I never intended for
you to die. Not at first, anyway. I was mainly after
this
pathetic excuse for a man,” she said, pointing the automatic at
Addison Darcy.

Darcy’s eyes shifted from the floor to the gun
and back again.

“
How did you know I’d come calling
at the houseboat to see de Carter?” I asked.

“
I didn’t. It was another delicious
coincidence. Guy was getting antsy and out of control. His precious
car was being serviced so he’d borrowed my Packard. But he was
derelict in returning it. Finally, I told him I wanted to meet to
get my car back, and to talk things over. So I took a taxi to his
place. I didn’t want a witness to my true destination, so I had the
cabbie drop me a few blocks away. As I walked up, seeing you on the
landing was a total surprise, I assure you.”

“
You’d planned to kill de
Carter?”

“
Oh, yes. By then it was quite
necessary. He’d become a loose cannon, I’m afraid.”

“
And you figured the cops would nail
me as his killer.”

Blanche nodded. “I hoped they would. I didn’t
think you had any way to connect me to any of it. The houseboat
belongs to Guy’s grandmother, who now spends her dotage in a
Portland old folk’s home. I relieved you of those photos you’d
stolen. Without them, I didn’t think you had much in the way of
real evidence to go along with whatever tall tale you planned for
the police. Besides, Gunnar, I rather liked you.”

“
I’d have preferred flowers or maybe
a necktie,” I said.

“
But
why
, Blanche?” asked
Britt, anguish in her voice. “You … you certainly don’t need
the money. I thought Henry left you well off.”

Blanche dismissed her remark with the wave of
her free hand. “Don’t be naïve, my dear. It’s never been about the
money.” Blanche looked from Britt to me. “
You
understand
that, don’t you, Gunnar?”

“
I think I do. The blackmail racket
was a means to an end. You probably had some plan to eventually
have the whole thing come out in the open to besmirch Darcy’s
enterprises and shame his family. But first, you hoped Darcy
himself would become one of your victims. You planned to string him
along. You wanted to torment him.”

“
That’s correct,” Blanche said,
giving me another smile of approval. “Both of the girls started out
cultivating this randy old goat. But he seemed particularly taken
with Meredith. He always did like full-bosomed women. So I switched
Christine to another mark. That Christine was a clever one. She
sensed Darcy and her new target were particularly important to me.
I think that’s what sparked her greed. She demanded more money. The
little tart even insisted that her raise be retroactive. It was
fine with me, but not Guy de Carter. He lacked my sense of fair
play, I’m afraid.”

I said, “You deliberately tried to confuse me
with your talk of foolish young women and vindictive rich men. And
you made Christine out to be anything but shrewd.”

Blanche was silent and thoughtful for long
moments. Finally I pointed to Addison Darcy. “You’re not doing this
to him just for Alexis, are you Blanche?”

She fixed her gaze on me.

“
You’re avenging Sally Miller.
You’re avenging your friend Sal, aren’t you?”

She pointed the gun at Darcy again. “I detest
him,” said Blanch with a twisted smile. “I loathe him for what he
did to Sal. I had a long and drawn-out revenge planned … but,
the precipitous actions of Guy de Carter have necessitated …
innovation. Guy stupidly tried to make amends by taking a potshot
at this worm. Foolish man. He thought I’d be pleased. But he
botched that too. He really should have stuck with his strong
suits.”

Blanche fixed her eyes on the shrinking old man
on the floor as she resumed speaking. “Sal didn’t deserve what he
did to her. Not at all. She was one of my dearest friends. We
shared dreams. We helped each other. She was like a sister to me.
Closer than that, really. She had the talent and the looks. She’d
had an offer to make motion pictures. She could have been another
Gloria Swanson.” Blanche again motioned to Darcy with the gun. She
shook her head and made an incredulous face. “
He
didn’t even
remember Sal at first … not until I reminded him of a few
things. Can you believe it?”

I heard a whimper come from Darcy.

“
Sal believed his lies,” Blanche
continued, her mouth pulling tight to her teeth and her brow
getting taut. “She passed up that movie contract. She said she just
knew this rich scum would marry her. She said she knew it just as
sure as night follows day. Instead, he beguiled her and treated her
despicably, like she was dirt under his feet. Sal withered away.
The betrayal, the prison sentence … it killed her.”

I didn’t know what to do. I figured to just
keep her talking.

“
How long did it take you to trace
Darcy to Seattle?” My question penetrated the dreamlike state she’d
entered. Her face muscles slackened and her countenance smoothed
out.

“
But I
wasn’t
looking for
him, Gunnar. Not at all. I happened to see his picture in the
newspaper the first year after I married Henry and moved here to
Seattle. Henry … he told me to forget about it. Henry didn’t
fully understand. Not at all.”

“
But
you
couldn’t forget
about it,” I said.

“
Never
. And then, irony of
ironies, Alexis took up with his son. So this bastard ruined
Alexis’ life, as well. When he did that, everything that happened
to Sal got raked up all over again. But still, I did nothing. Henry
told me it wasn’t worth it. Sal used to say, just as sure as night
follows day. No, Henry just didn’t understand. Not one
bit.”

I had a weird epiphany. “But when Henry passed
away and Alexis died in Steilacoom, you couldn’t stand it any
longer. You had to act. You came up with a plan.”