“He’s at the Skyline Club,” she said excitedly. “It’s a nightclub. Nash will be there all evening.”
He could feel himself being reeled back in. She’d found him.
“I know where it is,” he said. “It’s private.”
“That’s right. What’s wrong with your voice?”
He cleared his throat. “Nothing.”
“Barnett’s looking for you,” she said. “He’s lost your cell phone number.”
“Don’t give it to him, okay? Don’t say anything.”
“I didn’t. I turned on the TV and saw the news. They found another body.”
“Yeah,” he said. “They did. Let’s talk in the morning.”
“Take care of yourself, Teddy.”
He closed the phone and turned the corner, spotting his Corolla in the middle of the block. His dizziness had passed, and he started for the car. Slowly at first, then picking up speed.
FIFTEEN
It was an exclusive club on the top floor of a high-rise building just off Rittenhouse Square, and the man at the front desk seemed adamant about not letting him in. He kept looking down at Teddy’s shoes and pants, still damp from the river. When reason didn’t work, Teddy grabbed him by the collar and shoved him aside.
Hurrying down the hall, he found the dining room and spotted Nash at a corner table by the window. He was seated with a beautiful, exotic-looking woman. Her clear skin was a deep brown, her face refined and gentle.
The light in Nash’s eyes glowed a little as Teddy approached the table. When Nash looked past him and nodded, Teddy turned and saw the man he’d just pushed straighten up his jacket and vanish down the hall with a shake of the head the way little men do.
“Have a seat,” Nash said. “We were just enjoying a little wine. Would you like a glass?”
Teddy nodded even though he didn’t want any wine. A waiter appeared with a third glass and a bottle of Williams amp; Selyem Pinot Noir. As the glass was partially filled, Nash introduced Teddy to his friend, Lynn Guzmon. She smiled warmly and offered her hand. Teddy shook it gently, noting her British accent, and was happily surprised when she excused herself to make a phone call. It was an act, of course, an elegant gesture made by someone who understood something was up without being told.
“Let’s go outside,” Nash said. “Better bring your glass.”
He followed Nash onto the terrace. Gas burners kept the space warm with benches and chairs arranged in small groupings along the entire side of the building. Nash stopped at the rail, gazing at the city. Teddy joined him, thinking that the name of the club was a perfect fit with its setting. The view from the terrace of the Skyline Club was tremendous. He could see the entire city, from the Museum of Art all the way down to the blue lights framing the Benjamin Franklin Bridge.
“It would seem you’ve had a long day,” Nash said in a quiet voice, even though they were alone.
Teddy gave him a look. “You know, don’t you. You know about the second body.”
“We were listening to the radio on the drive over. I expected you might make a return visit in the morning.”
“There’s a chance he’s innocent,” Teddy said.
Nash sipped his wine without saying anything. But Teddy could tell that he’d struck a nerve and the man’s wheels were turning.
“You know that, too, don’t you?” Teddy said. “That’s the real reason why you told me the story behind Derek Campos’s arrest and execution. That’s why you refused to help. In spite of the evidence, you knew there was a chance that Holmes might be innocent, too.”
“You’re reading meaning into things where it was never intended. I didn’t have Holmes in mind when I told you that story. I was thinking about your father. He was innocent, wasn’t he?”
Nash was staring at him now. From the look on the man’s face, it seemed as if he’d spent the afternoon in his library reading up on the subject. But Teddy wasn’t ready for the question. He reached into his pocket for his cigarettes and lit one. He’d never spoken about what happened to his father with anyone and was surprised when he heard himself say yes.
“It was the accountant,” Nash said. “He’s the one who murdered your father’s partner. The three of them had been friends.”
The skyline view fell away, and Teddy found himself staring into the abyss and nodding at it. “They were working on a project,” he whispered. “A lot of money was involved. My father’s partner caught their accountant embezzling money and confronted him.”
“The accountant murdered your father’s partner and made it look like something else.”
Teddy drew on the cigarette. “It was a small police department in the suburbs. They lacked experience and made a lot of mistakes. After my father died in prison, the accountant had a nervous breakdown and came forward. A week later, he tried to deny his confession, but it was too late. He knew things only the murderer could’ve known. They had him.”
“You were just a boy at the time. How did you feel when the police took your father away?”
Teddy shook his head at the memory. “Why do we have to talk about this?”
“Because it’s important. How did you feel?”
“I wanted to kill them,” he whispered.
“As time passed, did the rage go away?”
“Not really.”
Nash paused a moment to take it in. “When you got involved in the Darlene Lewis murder case, did new memories of your father surface?”
Teddy nodded. “In living color.”
“It got worse?”
“Yes.”
“When you first saw her corpse, what were you thinking?”
“That I might be sick. Then all I could think about was the man who did it.”
“And when you first met Holmes, could you still see her corpse? Could you still see Darlene Lewis’s mangled body lying before your eyes?”
“I couldn’t get it out of my head.”
“It made you angry,” Nash said.
“After the shock it did.”
“When you spoke to Holmes, when you were alone with him in the same room, did he seem like a killer? Did he look like one? Did he act the part?”
Teddy nodded, unable to speak and keenly aware that he’d almost repeated what had been done to his father. The idea had been haunting him since the little girl from across the hall entered Holmes’s art studio.
He picked up his glass and finished it off in two quick gulps. The barrage of questions didn’t feel like an interrogation. Instead, there was some degree of kindness in Nash’s voice. Even understanding and compassion as he pushed Teddy on. Nash was peeling back the layers and pointing out his prejudices. Tossing a line into the black hole of his past, and giving Teddy his first glimpse at the way out. When Nash asked how the second body was found, Teddy filled him in on the events of this afternoon. Nash seemed particularly intrigued by the call from Dawn Bingle, agreeing with Teddy that he’d been led to the boathouse.
“The call could be innocent, but it’s not likely,” Nash said. “There’s the possibility that she found the body and didn’t want to get involved with the police, but I don’t think so. In the end, we don’t have enough information to even make a guess.”
Nash turned back to the view, his cobalt-blue eyes taking in the lights thoughtfully. Several moments passed before he broke the silence, his voice remaining quiet even though they were still alone.
“So now there’s a second body,” Nash said. “A second murder. But I’m guessing you haven’t told me what caused the change in your point of view.”
“Valerie Kram was kidnapped in October but only murdered a few weeks ago. I’ve just come from Holmes’s apartment. It wouldn’t have been possible to keep her there. Holmes has a life. He’s got friends. Neighbors. A schedule and a full-time job. If the murders are related, then there’s the chance that Holmes is innocent. The chance the district attorney and everybody else are looking at the physical evidence, and for some inexplicable reason, they’re wrong.”