Watch Me (34 page)

Both guards had Glocks strapped to their waists, and they looked like they knew how to use them. They were wearing black shirts, black trousers, polished black boots. Uniforms that were almost identical to the casual clothes Taylor had been wearing yesterday.

We got out of the car and the guards met us at the bottom of the stairs. They were both larger than me, but smaller than Taylor. Six-two, six-three, somewhere in that region. The younger one was in his late thirties, his buddy maybe ten years older.

Ex-military, without a doubt. They moved like they were marching. Backs straight, shoulders straighter. Their eyes were constantly on the move, looking for danger, hands hovering near enough to their guns to draw them in a heartbeat. Special Forces was my guess. When you could afford a Gulfstream, a house like this, and you had a billion in the bank, you didn’t skimp on personal security.

In my experience, money has the capacity to buy as much grief as happiness. I’d worked a number of high-ransom child kidnappings during my FBI days. I’d witnessed the moment when the news broke that the kid wasn’t coming home. On a couple of occasions I’d delivered that news myself.

There aren’t enough words to describe that moment when a mother realises her baby is dead. It’s heartbreaking. It rips you apart. And the thing is, this isn’t even your kid. You didn’t know them, you’d never played with them, never laughed with them. You knew them as a face in a photograph, and a few second-hand guilt-soaked remembrances, and that was all. And it still got to you.

The older guard stepped into my personal space. An alpha male defining his territory. This was the point where I was supposed to step back. I didn’t. Instead, I stood my ground and fought the temptation to look up. The guard’s chin was at eye level. It was a strong chin. A GI Joe chin. If this guy wanted, he could pick me up and snap me in two, and he wouldn’t even break a sweat.

‘Can I help you?’

Now I looked up. ‘Sheriff’s department. We’re here to see Jasper Morgan.’

The guy scoped me up and down. The white hair, the blue medical top, the jeans and the worn work boots and the smears of dried blood. He glanced over at Hannah and gave her the once-over as well, starting at her spiky hair, moving down past the Death Parade T-shirt and finishing at her scuffed sneakers. His face said that he didn’t believe us for a second.

‘I’m going to need to see some ID.’

I nodded towards the police car. The guard looked over the top of my head, following my gaze.

‘I’m going to need to see something more official.’

I patted my pockets, shook my head. ‘I must have left my badge in my other jeans.’

‘I’d like you to leave now.’

‘Not going to happen. Not until I’ve spoken to your boss.’

‘He’s not here.’

‘Yes he is. His receptionist said he was feeling a “little under the weather”. Where else is he going to be other than tucked up in bed convalescing?’

The security guy was staring down at me. The angle must have been making his neck ache by now, but he couldn’t step back because that would show weakness, and this guy had been programmed never to show weakness in the face of the enemy. I was fine. I could quite happily talk to his chin all day.

‘Tell him Jefferson Winter is here to see him.’

‘Mr Morgan doesn’t want to see anyone today.’

‘I’m sure Jasper would make an exception for me. Tell him I’ve come to give him an update on the Sam Galloway case.’

The guard didn’t move. He just stared down at me, his neck getting stiffer by the second.

‘You can let him through, Smithson.’

The voice came from the top of the stairs. It wasn’t a shout and it wasn’t loud, but it was authoritative, a voice that ended arguments. We all turned towards it. Jasper Morgan waved for me to come on up, and I dodged past Smithson and headed for the stairs, Hannah hot on my heels.

‘We’ll be in the lake room, Smithson.’

‘Very good, sir.’

The three of us went inside, Jasper leading the way. We walked in silence through wide, bright corridors. There were reminders of Jasper’s wealth everywhere. Expensive paintings on the walls, expensive statues on plinths, expensive marble beneath our feet.

The view from the lake room was breathtaking. The main wall was made almost entirely from glass, creating the illusion that you could dive right into the lake. The water stretched all the way to the tip of the teardrop. Beyond, the land rose up into a steep bank that disappeared into the trees. The room was sparsely furnished, just a couple of large sofas in front of the window, some side tables, and that was it. The rug was a shade darker than the light grey marble floor tiles. This room was all about that view.

Jasper waved us towards the sofas and we sat down. I studied him closely, looking for signs of stress, and saw nothing. He wasn’t fidgeting or fiddling with his hands. He was calm and relaxed. It crossed my mind that I might be wrong, but if that was the case why would he be here instead of at the office? Why would he have called in pretending to be sick?

‘You’re looking well.’

Jasper smiled a politician’s smile, his tanned, leathery face folding and creasing. ‘And you’ve been talking to Susan back at the office.’ The smile disappeared. ‘You didn’t come all the way out here to enquire about my health, did you?’

I shook my head.

‘Okay, here’s what’s puzzling me. Last night at the station house, the countdown hit zero and nothing happened. At the time I assumed that the unsub had got spooked and aborted whatever it was he had planned.’

Jasper was looking straight at me, not saying a word, just letting me talk.

‘But what if that assumption was wrong? What if everything happened exactly how he had meant it to happen and I just hadn’t noticed? What if he’d made his grand revelation and I missed it?’

‘Then it obviously wasn’t that grand.’

‘Not to me, but it’s all a matter of perspective. I was expecting a rerun of Sam Galloway’s death. Like everyone else in that room, I was expecting to see someone being burned alive.’

Jasper had flinched ever so slightly when I mentioned Sam Galloway. The gesture was small and, on the surface, so insignificant that it could easily be written off as the result of sunlight reflecting in his eyes. It wasn’t. This was the first indication that I was on the right track. He shrugged, his eyes still locked on mine.

‘I was there,’ he said, ‘and I’ve got to say that, to me, it looked like nothing happened.’

‘I don’t think so. There were fifty people in that room, but the unsub was playing to an audience of one. You. It was a perfect performance. Even down to the way the seats were set out. You had the best seat in the house.’

‘But nothing happened.’

‘Exactly. Nothing happened. It was a huge anti-climax. Everyone had been drawn there by the promise of blood, but nobody really wanted that to happen. Sam Galloway’s death had taken the number of murders in Dayton over the past century up to twenty-one, and everyone was happy for there not to be another one. Go back a hundred years and murder wasn’t that big a deal. Find a likely suspect, go through the motions of a trial, then hang them as quickly as possible. These days it’s hard work. There are procedures to be followed, paperwork that needs to be filled out. It takes months to get to trial, years even. And then, when the bad guy is found guilty, he spends the next twenty years in jail waiting for the state to finally get around to executing him.’

‘What’s your point?’

‘Nobody likes murder, especially cops.’

Jasper shook his head, a confused expression on his face. ‘I’m not following.’

‘After the countdown hit zero and everyone realised nothing was going to happen, the overriding emotion in the room was relief. People were laughing and joking and acting like it was a party. And you were in a party mood, too. When I spoke to you outside the station house, you were dancing up there on cloud nine.’

‘Nobody else had been killed, of course I was happy about that.’

‘Of course you were, but you’re the mayor. You need to be seen to be above these sort of things, yet there you were acting like one of the boys.’

‘You’re reading too much into this.’

‘Am I? This was personal for you, that’s why you acted the way you did. If it hadn’t been personal, you would have acted differently. You would have been aloof, distant. You would have acted cool. You wouldn’t have joined the party. You’re the big man around here. The richest man in town. You’re not one of the boys. So, what did you think was going to happen when the countdown hit zero?’

We were staring at each other. All that mattered was the distance between us. The room had shrunk until it was big enough to hold just the two of us. That fantastic storybook view of the lake and the forest had blurred into insignificance. Even Hannah had ceased to exist.

‘You actually had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen, didn’t you? And things played out exactly how you imagined they would. That’s why you were on such a high. You thought you’d outsmarted the killer. So, how did that work out for you, Jasper?’

63

Jasper sat staring out over the lake for the longest time. We’d reached a junction and this conversation could go one of three ways. Either we’d get as much of the truth as Jasper knew, or we’d get a sanitised version of the truth, or Jasper would start shouting for his lawyers and his security people. I was aware again of Hannah beside me. She was breathing gently, keeping her thoughts to herself.

‘You’re guessing,’ Jasper said finally.

‘I am. But judging by your reaction, I’m in the right ballpark. There are some things I know, some things I think I know, and in-between there’s all sorts of speculation and assumptions.’

Jasper turned to face me. He looked much older than he did last night. ‘Okay. Let’s start with what you know.’

‘Sam Galloway is the key to all this. He always has been, right from the start.’

Jasper flinched again at the mention of Sam’s name. The expression was almost non-existent, the tiniest twitch of his facial muscles as a spark of electricity burst through his nervous system. He tried to hide it, but couldn’t quite contain the emotion. If this had been a poker game, if the stakes had been lower, he would have managed it. He had a great poker face.

‘You told me that Sam was like a son to you.’

I watched carefully, and caught another of those facial twitches. I was thinking on my feet, using those tiny twitches to lead me closer to the truth. A big piece of the puzzle suddenly dropped into place. It fitted so perfectly it had to be right.

‘Sam wasn’t just
like
a son, was he? Sam
was
your son.’

It was almost as if Jasper grew bigger in front of me. For a moment I thought he was going to fight me on this one, and then he suddenly deflated, crumpling in on himself. He put his head in his hands and sighed a long sigh. When he took his hands away he no longer looked like the big man, he just looked like any other parent whose child had been brutally murdered. This was someone who had been cut adrift in an empty, infinite universe with no chance of finding their way back home again, because the place they’d once called home no longer existed.

‘Yes, Sam was my son,’ he confirmed quietly.

I nodded like this explained everything. It didn’t. It explained a lot of things but not everything. It explained how a small-town lawyer like Sam could afford such a lavish lifestyle. Basically, he couldn’t afford it. He was being bankrolled by Jasper. That in turn explained why Barbara was so desperate to protect Sam’s secret. She had a standard of living that she was keen to maintain.

‘Sam wasn’t the real target here,’ I continued. ‘He was murdered to get at you. If he hadn’t been your son he’d be alive right now, living the illusion of domestic bliss. He’d probably have a smaller house but it would still be in McArthur Heights, and he’d be driving something a little less snazzy than a Ferrari, but at least he’d be alive.’

I stared out at the lake, puzzle pieces tumbling randomly around my head. They fell into place, fell out of place, ideas in a state of constant motion. Some parts of the picture made sense, other parts didn’t. In some places I was too close to the picture and all I could see were the blurred curves and lines of the joins between the pieces.

‘That’s why you kept Clayton close by last night. You’d lost one son, you didn’t want to lose another.’

Jasper nodded. ‘When I saw that clock counting down, I figured that whoever did this would probably go after Clayton next. Clayton doesn’t have kids. At the moment he’s the last of the Morgans. He dies, the family name dies with him. Anyone who knows me knows that would hit me hard. I’ve been on at the boy to start a family for years, but he’s always telling me it’s not the right time. It’s never the right goddamn time.’

‘You also figured that the safest place for him to be when the clock hit zero was in a roomful of cops. That’s why you were so confident that nothing would happen.’

‘I’m not going to deny that. I want to protect my family. Since when has that been a crime?’

‘Where’s Clayton now?’

‘He’s here at the house. He’s been here since last night. Him and his wife. I’ve doubled my security detail, too. We’re safe here.’

‘Okay, let’s talk motive. Revenge or money? Which one is it?’

Jasper’s face twitched as he tried to suppress another spark of electricity flashing through his nervous system.

‘What are you hiding, Jasper? If I’m going to help you then you need to be straight with me. I can catch the person who did this, but I need your co-operation.’

‘Can I have a cigarette?’

‘Sure.’ I handed over the pack and the lighter. He shook out a cigarette and lit it.

‘It’s money. When I got home last night there was an email in my personal account telling me that Clayton would be next unless I paid twenty million dollars. There were details for a Swiss bank account that I’m supposed to wire the money to.’

‘You haven’t paid the money yet?’

‘Not yet. It takes time to get that sort of money together. I’ve been given until midnight, but I’m almost there.’