King shook his head. He figured he’d buy as much time as possible by keeping Morse talking. The man obviously wanted to brag about his grand plan, and King could use the extra time to work out a strategy. “I would have done it differently. Commit him, then kill him. That way, you’re assured people think you’re dead.”
“But killing him could lead to an autopsy, and that might show he wasn’t me if they got old medical and dental records to compare against. If he dies naturally, all is fine. Besides, we looked enough alike, and the other little touches I devised were enough to fool anyone. My genius is in the details. For example, this room is soundproofed. Why bother in a deserted hotel? Because you just never know about sound: it carries in strange, unpredictable ways, and I really can’t have any interruptions. It would ruin the whole performance, and I’ve never disappointed an audience yet. I also like to bring things off with a certain flair. Like the note you mentioned. I could have just slipped it in your mailbox. But a body hanging on the door, it’s classic. And blowing up your house. It’s just the way I do things.”
“But why involve Bob Scott? Like you said, no one would suspect you.”
“Think, Agent King, think. Every drama needs a villain. Besides, Agent Scott never accorded me the respect I deserved when I was with Ritter. He lived to regret that.”
“Okay, so you fried your brother’s brain, mutilated his face to further disguise his identity, fattened him up while you slimmed down, moved to Ohio, where no one would know either of you, and established the identity switch. That’s quite a production. Just like the Ritter campaign.”
“Clyde Ritter was simply a means to an end.”
“Right. This had nothing to do with Clyde Ritter and everything to do with Arnold Ramsey. He had something you wanted. You wanted it so badly you led him to his death so you could take it.”
“I did him a favor. I knew Arnold hated Ritter. His academic career had peaked long ago. He was at rock bottom and ripe for the offer I made him. I let him relive his past glory as a radical protester. I let him go down in history as the assassin of an immoral, disgusting man, a martyr for the ages. What could be better?”
“You walking off with the real prize. The prize you tried to get thirty years ago when you set up Ramsey for killing a national guardsman. But that attempt failed and so did the Ritter plan. Even though Arnold was gone, you still weren’t going to win.”
Morse looked amused. “Go on, you’re doing very well. What didn’t I win?”
“The woman you loved, Regina Ramsey, the actress with a huge future. I’m betting she starred in some of your productions way back when. And it wasn’t just business. You loved her. Only she loved Arnold Ramsey.”
“Ironically I introduced them to each other. I’d met Arnold when I was doing a play having to do with the civil rights protests and needed some research. I never imagined two people so totally opposite… Well, he didn’t deserve her, of course. Regina and I were a team, a truly great one with the whole world waiting. We were poised to hit the big time. The dominating presence she had on stage, she would have been a Broadway star, one of the greatest.”
“And made you a star too.”
“Every great impresario needs a muse. And don’t be fooled, I brought out the best in her. We would have been unstoppable. Instead, my artistic power disappeared when she married him. So my career was destroyed even as Arnold wasted her life in his pathetic little academic world at a third-rate college.”
“Well, that was your doing. You ruined his career.”
“You’ve asked a lot of questions, let me ask one. What really turned your attention to me?”
“Something I heard pointed me in your direction. So I started digging into your family. I found out your father was the attorney who got Ramsey off the murder charge in D.C. I guess your plan was to make Ramsey appear guilty so Regina would stop loving him, then you’d swoop in as the white knight, save Arnold and take Regina as your prize. That’s right out of a movie script.”
Morse pursed his lips. “Only the script didn’t work.”
“Right, but then you waited until another opportunity came along.”
Morse nodded and smiled. “I’m a very patient man. When Ritter announced his candidacy, I knew that opportunity had come.”
“Why not just kill your romantic rival?”
“What’s the fun in that? Where’s the drama? I told you it’s just not how I do things. And besides, if I’d simply done that, she would have loved him all the more. Yes, I had to kill Arnold Ramsey, but I didn’t want her to mourn for him. I wanted her to loathe him. Then we could be a team again. Of course, Regina was older then, but the talent she had—that never goes away. We could still make the magic happen again. I just knew it.”
“And so the Ritter assassination was your next major production.”
“It was actually very easy to convince Arnold to do it. Regina and he had finally separated, but I knew she still loved him. Now was the time to show him as an unhinged killer, not the noble, brilliant activist she’d married. I secretly met with Arnold numerous times. I’d helped support them through the lean times. He saw me as a friend. I reminded him of his younger days looking to change the world. I challenged him to be a hero again. And then when I told him I was willing to join him, that Regina would be so proud, I knew I had him. And the plan worked beautifully.”
“Except that the grieving widow rejected you once more. And this time it was far more devastating, because the reason was she didn’t love you.”
“That actually wasn’t the whole story, which is why we’re here today.”
King looked at him quizzically. “And then later she committed suicide. Or did she?”
“She was getting remarried. To a man remarkably similar to Arnold Ramsey.”
“Thornton Jorst.”
“She must have had a defective gene for such people. I began to see that my ‘star’ wasn’t so perfect. But after all these years if I couldn’t have her, no one else could either.”
“So you killed her too.”
“Let’s put it this way: I let her join her miserable husband.”
“And now we come to Bruno.”
“You see, Agent King, every great play has at last three acts. The first was the national guardsman, the middle act was Ritter.”
“And all this is the closing curtain. Bruno and me. But why? Regina is dead. What do you gain by doing all this now?”
“Agent King, you lack the vision to see what I’ve created here.”
“Sorry, Sid, I’m more of a down-to-earth guy. And I’m not in the Secret Service anymore, so you can just drop the ‘agent.’”
“No, today you’re a Secret Service agent,” Morse said firmly.
“Right. And you’re a psychopath. And when this is over, I’ll make sure you’re reunited with your brother. You can throw the tennis ball to him.”
Sidney Morse pointed his gun at King’s head. “Let me tell you exactly what you’re going to do. When the clock reaches 10:30 A.M., you will take up your position behind the rope. All the rest is taken care of. You have a very important role in this play. I’m certain you know what it is. I wish you luck in carrying it out. Bad luck, of course.”
“So will this be an exact replay of 1996?”
“Well, not exactly. I don’t want it to be boring for you.”
“Hey, maybe I’ll have some surprises of my own.”
Morse chuckled. “You’re not in my league, Agent King. Now remember, this isn’t a dress rehearsal. It’s the real thing, so hit your marks. And just so you know, this play will have only a one-night run.”