55
Hap — Boston, MA
Hap Greene was sitting at the dining room table eating a leftover sandwich from a nearby deli when Wilson joined him. It was two in the morning, and Wilson couldn’t sleep or bring himself to eat anything. “Anything else from Driggs?”
“No changes. She’s safe and sleeping.”
“This is taking too long…and I still can’t figure Carter,” Wilson said as he sat down.
“I think you’re right about him. He’s still manipulating you, but probably in an effort to protect you. And no, I don’t think he’s done,” Hap said.
“Explain,” Wilson said.
“I think he’s left the country because he’s getting ready for the next round, whatever it is. I don’t believe he’d leave you alone in the middle of all this if there wasn’t a damn good reason,” Hap said. “Unless I’m totally wrong about him, which is certainly a possibility.”
“So what’s motivating him right now?” Wilson asked.
“His family’s safety, your family’s safety, the final disclosure, and a complete dissolution of the secret partnership,” Hap said. “I think that’s why he left. He’s made it easier for you to do what you have to do to rescue Emily, protect yourself, your father, and your family. His family left from Canada for somewhere in Europe or Asia. Disclosure is guaranteed. Now, the only remaining question is dissolution of the partnership.”
Just then, one of Hap’s associates entered the living room. “There’s a Detective Zemke from Sun Valley on my cell phone. He wants to talk to Wilson.”
“How did he get the number?” Hap asked.
“He must have called the office. Anne Cartwright has the numbers. I told her that Detective Zemke should have access to me if he called,” Wilson returned.
Hap shot him a look of concern. “He’s outside the loop. Be careful.”
Wilson nodded as he stood up and took the phone from Hap’s associate. Hap went to the kitchen to listen through the recording equipment. Wilson pressed the connection button. “Detective Zemke, it’s been a few weeks since…”
Zemke interrupted, “There’s been no movement until now. But something always breaks-we have a tape of what happened that night.”
“What?” Wilson said in shock.
“The room was wired. Some kind of remote microphone. The tape showed up this afternoon. Strange circumstances, but seems legit. Looks like the Zollinger women hired a PI from Chicago to eavesdrop. He was killed in an automobile accident in Hailey the next day. We had nothing linking him to the White Horse murders, until the PI’s brother started poking around a week ago. Apparently, the PI spent a couple of late nights at Lefty’s Bar and struck up a relationship with the bartender, Jake Pitt. He left the tape with Jake and told him that he or his partner would be back to get it. He must have suspected a tail. According to the PI’s brother, he never had a partner. Strictly solo. But Jake never heard about the accident, so he kept the tape in the bar’s safe until the PI’s brother showed up. No one had listened to it until his brother did. That’s when he brought it to us. There’s an introduction on the tape from the PI, explaining the circumstances and the reason for the wire. The brother already verified the PI’s voice. Of course, you’ll need to verify your father’s voice and the Zollinger family will need to verify the women’s…”
“What’s on the tape, Detective,” Wilson interrupted impatiently. His stomach tightened like a fist.
“Seems the two Zollinger women were murdered by a professional,” Zemke said, pausing for a few moments. “We think your father was shot by someone named Carter.”
The living room began spinning as Wilson braced himself against the wall. Zemke was still talking, but only bits and pieces were registering. “…prolonged argument…women were convinced…it was too risky…the PI must have tried to negotiate…But Wayland evidently hired…killed the two…Carter and…another long discussion…your father wanted to end…there was more…”
“Wait,” Wilson finally managed to blurt out, trying desperately to regain focus. “What did my father want to end?”
Detective Zemke hesitated for a moment. “Seems he wanted to kill all of them, including himself.”
Wilson was too numb to speak.
“Your father apparently tried to stop the two Zollinger women from being shot. After the two women were dead, Wayland called off the assassin and took the gun. There was a heated exchange of words, and then a fight. Your father took the gun from Wayland and told the others to back off. That’s when your father kept saying this was the best way to end it. But another person-we think it was Carter-wrestled the gun away from your father and then shot him.”
Wilson could barely breathe but managed to utter the words running through his head, “Carter shot my father.”
“That’s our take on it.”
“Who else was there besides my father, Wayland, and Carter?”
“Name was uhh …” Zemke paused a moment before answering, “…Jules and of course the unnamed assassin.”
“When can I hear the tape?”
“A copy is already on its way to you. Overnight. Should arrive at your office tomorrow morning. We’ll need you to verify as many voices as you can. Thought about doing it by phone, but the tape isn’t that good, and we want to make sure it’s legit before we turn it over to the FBI.”
“The FBI?”
“They said you were working with them,” Zemke said, sounding surprised.
“That’s right,” Wilson said, quickly, “Have they heard the tape?”
“No. I called your office and talked to your assistant Anne. I told her it was vital that I track you down. Then, I called the Zollinger family.”
“Why didn’t you call the FBI?” Wilson said.
“They were all over us yesterday, six of them, confiscating everything we had on the White Horse case. Put us through the ringer, if you know what I mean. They won’t be getting anything else from me until I know exactly what it is.”
Wilson remained silent, trying to think.
Hap motioned for Wilson to keep the conversation going.
“Mr. Fielder,” Zemke said.
“Yes, I’m here.”
“We assume Carter is your father’s associate Carter Emerson. Do you know where he is?”
“No,” Wilson said, abruptly.
“They’re coming back here tomorrow at noon to officially take over the investigation. If I don’t hear from you by eleven o’clock my time, I’ll call you,” Zemke said. “All I need to know is whether the voice on the tape is your father’s.”
Wilson agreed to listen to the tape and call Zemke in the morning. When he ended the call, Hap tried to console him, but strangely, Wilson was already over it. All of a sudden, everything had become sickeningly predictable.
While initially dumbfounded that Carter had pulled the trigger of the gun that shot his father, the pieces of the puzzle had been there all along-the contingency plan that Carter wished he’d never agreed to, his father’s coma convincing the other partners of Carter’s loyalty, their relentless quest to finish what they’d started, the repeated attempts to protect Wilson, and that faraway look in Carter’s eyes whenever he talked about Wilson’s father. What weren’t they willing to do for disclosure?
“I still can’t believe it,” Hap said.
“I can,” Wilson said, Zemke’s words still ringing in his head: this is the best way to end it. “It was all part of their contingency plan,” Wilson said. Why had it taken him so long to accept it?
“What?” Hap blurted.
For the next twenty minutes Wilson tied together the bits and pieces for Hap’s benefit. Carter had indeed already told Wilson everything-what they had done, what they expected to happen, and what yet remained to be done. When Hap’s doubts were addressed and he had no furthers questions, Wilson said, “Call Driggs. I want Emily extracted now. Her parents and sisters are going to need immediate protection.”
56
Emily — Princeton, NJ
Feeling her body being gently lifted off the cot, Emily thought she was dreaming. Then, as her consciousness grew, she assumed she was being raped. She immediately arched her back and attempted to kick her legs. Driggs pulled off her earphones and whispered, “We’re taking you to Wilson.”