Dead Man's Hand (20 page)

“
You gave me a key, remember?
”
He t
wirled the key chain around his index finger.

Pitt
swallowed hard.
“
Want a drink?
”

“
No, thank
s
.
I just stopped by for an update.
”

He
tucked the key inside his jacket pocket and removed a deck of cards, which he started shuffling.

“
Speaking of which,
”
Pitt said, his voice cracking
,
“
w
hat the hell happened to the original plan? I wasn
’
t going to say anything. I knew you had changed your mind about when and where to murder Grant and I didn
’
t think I wanted to know why. But since you
’
re here, why did you change? The cops were supposed to find Watters with Grant
’
s body in the office. Case closed. The plan had been to set up Calvin. I had started to dial your number at
t
he
Golden Horseshoe
but thought better of it. So I sat back and waited. So?
”

“
Som
etimes plans just change
. That
’
s all you need to know. If you want to run with the rich and powerful, you have to learn that.
”

“
I will.
”

He
moved
toward
Pitt, through a haze of cigarette smoke
, all the while shuffling the cards
.

Pitt squirmed in his chair
and
glanced
toward
the corner of the room
, his neck and face damp with sweat
.
“
Don
’
t worry
.
The cops don
’
t suspect a thing. They were already in here asking about Calvin. They suspect
him
because he was a
t the office this morning and now they
’
re
searching for him.
Poor bastard―in the wrong place at the wrong time.
”
He grinned
, raised his glass and drank a silent toast.
“
Like I asked before, what are you doing here? You only come out of the shadows when som
ething
’
s up.
”

“
What did you tell the cops?
”

“
Nothing, I swear.
”

“
Does Calvin suspect anything?
”

“
That boy is as dumb as a stump. Not a thing.
”
Pitt
took another hearty swig.
“
The idiot left his prints all over that office.
But it wasn
’
t easy getting him there. Calvin came in here screaming he wanted out, that he was done. But I managed.
”

“
You
’
ll be well compensated, Donald.
”

Ace
’
s reassurance seemed to relax Pitt.

“
But I don
’
t think we should underestimate Watters. He could be a dangerous liability. We don
’
t know where he is, where he
’
s going, or what he
’
s going to do next.
”

“
You worry too much.
”
Pitt ground his cigarette into an ashtray and took another sip.
His bleary eyes suggested
he
’
d been sipping on scotch all evening.
“
We both have much invested in Grant
’
s death. For as long as I
’
ve known you, I
’
ve learned that you leave no detail out. That
’
s why you
’
re rich and about to get even richer. We have nothing to worry about.
”

Because Pitt had been talking and drinking continuously, he hadn
’
t noticed tha
t Ace was now standing
behind him.
He
couldn
’
t
see Ace pull on a pair of black
leather gloves.

But Ace knew
the man sensed him. H
e saw Pitt
’
s back hair rise.

“
You are right. I am a rich man because of my attention to detail.
”
He
dropped a gloved hand firmly on Pitt
’
s shoulder and kneaded the tight ball.
“
You
’
re too tense, Donald
. Relax a little.
”
He
massage
d
the bookie
’
s fat shoulders and neck
.

Pitt tighten
ed
up more
and
grip
ped
the arms of the chair.

“
You like poker?
”

The question seemed to catch
the bookie
off
guard.
“
What?
”

“
Poker. I love it. I know that Texas
H
old
‘
em
is all the craze right now, but I
’
ve always been a f
an of
P
rimero, or as rookies
know it,
S
traight. This was the very first game of poker ever played, the root of the game. This is what they played in the Wild West.
”

“
What
’
s with the gloves?
”
Pitt asked with a tremble in his voice.

“
Oh, you know me. A
lways the cautious one.
Shall we try your luck?
”

When Pitt
attempted t
o get up, Ace wrapped
an
arm tightly around Pitt
’
s throat, squeezed
and
raised his chin to expose the esophagus.
The man
struggled to breathe
,
so Ace tightened his grip, obstructing the air passage. Pitt tried to call out but
couldn
’
t
.

“
Sorry, Donald. No loose ends. Wrong place, wrong time.
”

The cards were gone.
With his right hand, Ace pulled a new hunting knife from his jacket and
with precision and speed
swiped the blade across the bookie
’
s throat.

Pitt instinctively grabbed at the wound
,
but it took only seconds for his body to go limp.

In a calm, easy manner Ace
cleaned his knife on Pitt
’
s already blood-stained white boxers. As he was about to slide the knife back into its sheath in his pocket,
he
heard the toilet flush in the office bathroom.
A sliver of l
ight showed
beneath the door. The light flickered.

Moving with great speed and agility
, he
flipped the knife from his right hand to
his left
to get a better angle on the person coming
out of the bathroom. He
slipped behind the door, waiting for it to open.

A sm
all, thin woman stepped out. He
moved in behind and
grabbed her around her wiry
neck,
the knife
ready to strike. He
flexed his
arm
, stifling any scream
,
and
breathed in her heavy floral perfume
,
but t
he woman
tore at his grip. Her nails cut into his bare right wrist.

“
You bitch!
”
he
roared
. Saliva spit from the corner of his mouth.

He
overpowered her
with ease
. Sliding his arm down to her shoulders, he slashed the blade across her throat. Blood squirted from the gash as he let the
woman
drop to the floor.

Again he
wiped his knife clean on his victim
’
s
limited
clothing
and
put it back in its sheath.
H
e looked down at the two bodies
and smiled
.

Now to
get what he came for and
make it look like a robbery.

He
’
d know
n
for years where Pitt
’
s safe was and how to unlock
it
. That kind of information was always easy to buy, for the right price.

Ace pulled open the cheap framed painting hanging on the back office wall and looked at the hidden safe. As he was about to start spinning
the heavy combination lock, he
heard a loud thud
in
the back alley. It might have
just
been a stray cat, but he couldn
’
t take that chance.

“
Shit!
”

After making sure he had left no evidence, he quickly surveyed the area and closed the painting. He
exited through the front and locked
the door on his way out.

Chapter
19

Calvin
left Rachel in a motel until he could return. He didn
’
t want her
to see what might happen when he confronted Pitt.

He couldn
’
t see Pitt
pulling off an elaborate scheme
to set him up alone
and
he
wasn
’
t leaving the office without a name.

T
he bookie
’
s C
adillac was parked out front. Calvin
used his key and let himself in, locking the door from the
inside
.
Pitt wasn
’
t getting away.

He marched
back where he knew he would
find Pitt, a good chance
screwing
one of his worki
ng girls
. The thought of a sweaty, hai
ry Pitt on top of a young streetwalker turned Calvin
’
s stomach.

A
s soon as he entered
,
he
picked up
the unmistakable
,
repugnant odor of blood
even through the usual stench of the back office
. When
he
followed the scent and saw them, he grabbed the wall.
His
torture and cruelty hadn
’
t
p
repared
him
for
the blood
spatter
and damage that had occurred in th
e
tiny room
.
Calvin
bent
over at the knees.

There was no point checking for pulses
—
Pitt and the woman were dead
.
H
e
still had to find out who worked with Pitt to set him up.

As he stepped over the woman
’
s body, he
heard something or someone fumbling at the front door lock.

“
Fuck!
”

He couldn
’
t
be found
t
here.

With no time to search the office,
Ca
lvin jumped a pool of
bloo
d and bolted through the office and out
the back door.

The front door was locked
,
of course, so Pitt could engage in activities Dale didn
’
t want to imagine.

After
he
picked the cheap lock
on Pitt
’
s door
,
he
walked inside
.
He saw no one in the front office and
kept moving to the back room
. The faint fl
u
orescent lights
were dim
and made the corners of the room di
fficult to see. He couldn
’
t hear
any noise
so
, hoping to do a brief search before Pitt heard him from another area,
he
used a bright c
ompact flashlight to examine the room
.

Pitt
’
s files looked out of order. Drawers w
ere open,
magazines lay open,
papers were everywhere
and opened food wrappers and containers had stained many of the documents.
A
coffee mug had been overturned and the
liquid had absorbed into a shea
f of papers.
A bottle of Jack Daniels was still uncapped.

By the looks of it, Pitt
hadn
’
t
kept his files up to date or in any kind of order. Standing in front of Pitt
’
s disorganized desk, Dale swiftly examined all the scattered papers on top
but found no clues in the disarray.

He mo
ved around the side of the desk to search
the drawers
and
saw Pitt
’
s body sprawled on the floor
, his face
frozen in
shock
,
h
is throat
s
lashed almost as deep
as Grant
’
s had been. Th
e blood had
splatt
ered
his head, upper bod
y, waist and thighs
and
pooled
around them.

He
pulled his gun and crouched behind
the desk.
S
eeing and hearing nothing, he looked again at Pitt
’
s corpse. From the
thinness of the pooled blood,
the m
urder had happened not long ago
.
Old blood would have thickened.

He
then saw the woman
on the floor just inside the office bathroom.
Sidestepping a pool of blood, Dale ran to the girl
’
s side, holstering his weapon.
Like Pitt, she had been sliced at the neck and suffered the same massive blood loss.

She was
no mor
e than seventeen,
a dark-rooted blond
e
with
soft features and
freckles over the bridge of her nose.
She had a ring in her lower lip and her pupils were severely dilated, pinhole pupils telling Dale she
’
d been high at the time of her murder
.
Her overwashed
T
-shirt and white thong
were
soaked
in blood.

He raised her han
ds and saw what he thought was
skin
underneath her fingernails
.

Dale did one more search
with
his
gun drawn, turning on every light as he went
,
but found nothing before calling dispatch for the crime scene teams. Then
he
called Jimmy
.

“
I thought I told you I was going home for the night
.
”

“
Two people were just murdered, Jimmy.
”

“
I know. I
’
m sorry. I
’
m tired, but I
’
ll be there.
”

“
I
’
m sorry too. Please apologize to Tina for me. Some things are beyond our control. And call Mark and get him down here too.
”

Dale retrieved his equipment from the trunk of the car
.
P
ull
ing
on gloves and disposable paper boots
,
he
went back inside.

Within minutes, he heard screeching and whining
ambulance and police sirens. When the officials bu
rst through the front door, he
waved them to the back.

“
No disruption.
This is now a crime scene.
”

Jimmy showed up less than ten minutes later and snapped on a pair of gloves. Dale was dusting for prints.

“
What we got?
”
Jimmy
asked.

Dale said,
“
Two dead bodies. One is Pitt and t
he other is a Jane Doe, maybe
a hooker.
We
’
l
l have to hunt to see who she i
s
. One killer. Both
had
throats slashed by what
appears
to be the same knife. Just like the
Grant murder. S
ame killer or a c
opycat?
Not sure on that.
”

“
What do you want me to do?
”

“
CSI is working over the body, so collect any evidence that you can. I doubt we
’
ll find anything
. The murderer was here
for something. That
’
s why he called here from Grant
’
s office.
”

“
He did?
”

“
Sorry, Jimmy. Forgot to tell you. That
’
s why I came back here for a follow-up interview with Pitt. When I was
searching
through the phone records of calls made from Grant
’
s office, the last number dialed was Pitt
’
s
at
nine
-
forty this morning,
when Grant had been dead ten or more hours.
”

“
What do you think
? Same guy?
”
Jimmy asked.

Dale nodded.
“
I think it
’
s our guy. I want to say that the murd
ers are a serial killer profile. We have three—let
’
s expect a fourth to make it official.
Knife used every time to cut the victims
’
throats with one hand, while he has them under complete control with the other arm. Fast, easy, almost impossible to defend against
and
littl
e or no struggle.
”

He
thought it was also someone Grant and Pitt had known and
trusted.

While waiting for McAllister
to arrive
,
he skimmed Pitt
’
s files.
He searched through papers, drawers, filing cabinets
and
any other document container in the front and back offices.

N
o
thing with
Grant
’
s name.

If Grant didn
’
t owe Pitt money, then why send Watters to the suite?
Could the Pitt-Grant deal, if real, have
been a cash job with
no paperwork involved?
And what about the anonymous phone call? Had the caller been trying to frame Watters, or
was he
reporting what he thought was accurate information? Pitt had admitted sending his employee to Grant
’
s suite that morning, but only for collection. Presumably, that meant that neither Pitt nor Watters had known that Grant was already dead.

Mark McAllister walked through the crime scene
and
over to Dale
.
“
Have you found the safe yet?
”

“
No. We
’
re
leaving that up to you while
we
do
our
own
work. Okay, do
your magic.
”

It took McAllister two minutes to find the safe
and
less than three minutes to have it unlocked. Without a word, the safe breaker
left.

Together, Dale and Jimmy opene
d the safe and
found more than thirty thousand dollars in cash. Underneath the stack of bills, Dale found and carefully removed
a stack of
paper
s
.

“
What is it?
”
Jimmy asked over Dale
’
s shoulder.

“
Not sure yet, but I
’
m glad we got them before the killer did. I
’
m too tired to think straight now, so I
’
ll
go through them i
n the office
tomorrow morning
.
”

The whole office would be bagged, brought back to the precinct and sifted. But Dale was sure it would yield little or nothing.

He had t
hree perfect murders.

But if you looked hard enough, even
“
perfect
”
killers once in a while made mistakes.