Pyramid Deception (25 page)

“Don't matter,” Kevin said. “The cops and the DA, they don't give a shit about the truth or justice. They care about conviction rates, and closing cases. They look at Darryl's record, all that assault and burglary and drug stuff, and the DA sees a slam dunk and looks right past me.”

Kevin threw his head back to laugh, but his expression switched to shock when beads in the alcove rattled apart.

“You son of a bitch!” Darryl burst out of the darkness with hatred glowing in his eyes. “You ain't gonna put that on me!”

Kevin took a long step back, pulling a revolver out of his pocket. He pointed the gun at his brother's face for an instant, before Hannibal leaped forward to lock both hands around the gun. He then spun to his right, pulling Kevin by his outstretched right arm, angling the killer's face down into the back of the chair. Over his shoulder he saw two uniformed officers burst from the alcove behind Darryl, tackle him and pull him to the floor.

Orson Rissik strolled past that wrestling match toward the main event in the middle of the room. As Hannibal took the revolver, Rissik took control of Kevin, drawing his arms back to lock them in a pair of handcuffs. Only then did Cindy step out of the other room, keeping her distance from all the others. Kevin's eyes burned into Darryl's.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“The better question is, why did your mother invite you here tonight, and provide me a room for my friends to wait for us in?”

“That was pretty ballsy, pal,” Rissik said. “But I got to admit you played it mighty well. Remind me never to play poker with you.”

“I'm just happy I got him to go where I needed him to go.”

“You did that,” Rissik said. “I don't think you could have ever gotten the other brothers to tell the truth if one of them didn't hear for themselves how ready this one was to throw them under the bus. But now…”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Darryl said. The officers pulled him to his feet but held his arms, just in case. “You better believe it was all Kevin's idea. I'll cop to driving the car that night and take whatever I got coming to me, but Kevin took the shot. Nas will back me up on that. He was in the car with us.”

“Okay, but why the hell kill poor Irene Monroe in the first place?” Rissik asked Darryl. “I mean, we know why he did it, but why did
you
think she had to die?”

Darryl paused and seemed to calm down. When he looked up he spoke to Hannibal instead of Rissik. “Look Jones… I'm real sorry for the way we done you. I swear Kevin had us all convinced that you was a hit man for hire. He said Irene was cheating on Wash, and she was planning to have him killed so she and her boy toy could run off with all his money.”

“Shut up!” Kevin said, but Rissik slammed him down into the chair and held him down by his shoulders.

“Screw you, Kevin,” Darryl said. “Look, we was watching her that night, planning to take her out. Then you showed up. Kevin said she was making the deal with you to kill Wash right then, and we had to stop that deal. And, honest to God, man, he had us all convinced that you killed Wash.”

“Seriously?” Hannibal said. “You going to make it sound like this was a spontaneous decision? What about Irene's body? You guys came back and snatched her up, what, as a practical joke on the hired killer you thought I was?”

Kevin and Darryl locked eyes. It seemed clear that Kevin was done talking. Darryl took a deep breath and shook his head.

“That was Eddie,” Darryl said. “He was hiding nearby. Kevin told him what to do to clean up the scene. He rolled the woman up in a plastic sheet and drove her away in her own car. I don't think I could have done that, but Eddie, he's got a pretty strong stomach.”

“And Jason?” Cindy asked. When Darryl gave her a blank look she clenched her teeth and said, “Jason Moore. The boy toy, you called him. He was my friend. Why did he have to die?”

Darryl stared at the carpet in a way that made Hannibal smile. He actually looked embarrassed. “I'm sorry, ma'am. Me and the boys grabbed him. Kevin figured nobody would believe Irene was gunned down if there was no body, so the story would be that she ran off. But everybody knew she wouldn't run off by herself. Running off with her boyfriend, that sounded more believable. So he came up with the whole train story.”

“Right,” Rissik said. “You delivered this total stranger to your big brother, who grabbed his head and snapped his neck, like the Marine Recon boys taught him. I've had to deal with the Asian gangs from time to time but you boys are about the coldest I've seen.”

“It wasn't like that,” Darryl said. “We didn't know Kevin was going kill him until after it was done. It was a dirty business, but you got to understand, we'd do anything to protect Wash. He was so good to all of us.” Darryl turned dagger eyes on Kevin.

“Nice story,” Kevin said through a crooked smile. “But no jury's going to believe those three thugs over me. I'll still put it all on you, Darryl. You the brains here.”

“No offense to Darryl,” Hannibal said, “but that's a hell of a stretch. You think people will believe that your half-brothers killed three people, including the man who supported them all their lives, and cooked up this convoluted plot so you could inherit a fortune. Like Irene used to say, that would be like going all around your elbow to get to your asshole.”

“I still can't believe it,” Cindy said. She moved close enough to stare down into Kevin's eyes. “Not after meeting your people.
You're no street thug. And this man was no stranger to you. How could you kill your own father?”

Kevin sneered at her. “I ain't got to tell you shit.”

“Then tell me.” Sarah Thomas slipped through the door and walked up to her son. “How could you do all this? I didn't raise you to be a killer.”

“You set me up,” Kevin said, twisting around for a better view of his mother. “Inviting me down to see the show, to tell me what happened to my half-brothers, like I didn't know. You had this room all set up for them to con me, bad as Wash used to con his marks.”

“Yes, I learned something from watching Wash's pyramid plan deceptions,” Sarah said, “and when Mr. Jones here told me what he suspected, well, I had to hear it for myself. It broke my heart to see what you have become, son. And I still need for you to tell me how you could kill the man who brought you into this world.”

“Brought me into it, and then threw me away,” Kevin said, “me and you both. I bet you were glad I killed that bitch he left you for.”

Kevin's eyes widened in shock when Sarah's palm whipped across his face. “Are you crazy? She was a human being. And I agreed to leave Wash. He never threw me out, and he never abandoned either me or you. He should never have told you he was your father.”

“Sure he gave us all little half-ass slave jobs but he never owned up to why,” Kevin said, “Just like you never did.”

“What? Then how…?”

“I got into the Navy as soon as they'd take me, and the medical guys explained to me all about the operation I was too young to remember. A club foot. Just like Wash. I wondered about it the whole time I was in, even fantasizing about having a real dad and sharing his fortune. Then a training accident made it worse and worse, until I just wasn't combat ready and they gave me the medical discharge.”

“And when you came back Wash put you on his payroll, doing pretty much nothing,” Sarah said.

“You think playing personal assistant to that asshole was nothing?” Kevin asked. “He had me running all day. But now I had my suspicions because of the club foot thing. And the more I looked at him, the more I could see myself. So one day I just got him a new hairbrush. I sent the old one and some of my hair to a fellow I was still tight with in the Navy Medical Corps. It took a while, but he managed to get a DNA test done. That's how I found out that lying bastard was my own flesh and blood.”

The last trace of disbelief faded from Sarah's expression and her face seemed to fall in on itself. After quickly scanning the available shoulders she spun and collapsed into Cindy's arms, sobbing hard.

“Okay, we understand that you're a psychopath,” Cindy said through clenched teeth. “I see how you came up with this twisted plot to murder your way into your imagined inheritance. But still, he was your own flesh and blood. How could you kill your own father?”

“It was easy after I confronted him. I cornered him in the house and I demanded my birthright. He laughed in my face. He told me he had given me his cunning, and that was all he had for me. I had all I needed to get what I wanted myself, he said. Then he just brushed me off, me and my wife. The bastard sent me away, just like he sent my mother away as soon as he found out I was coming. He just turned his back on me. After that, it wasn't really about the money at all.”

“Am I hearing this right?” Cindy asked, hugging Sarah tighter. “You telling me that you killed your father because of your wounded pride?”

Against the far wall, Orson Rissik gave a subtle nod, and two uniformed officers started dragging Kevin toward the door. But his eyes were still on Cindy.

“You just don't get it, do you bitch? That bastard denied me.”

Hannibal shook his head. “Yeah, well maybe he understood what you had become.” Then, as Kevin passed through the door,
Hannibal turned to Rissik. “I got to say, chief, I'm surprised you let that go on as long as you did.”

Rissik shrugged. “Hey, I had my confession in front of a room full of witnesses. He wasn't going anywhere. And I guess I figured his mother deserved a real explanations, maybe a little closure.”

Darryl looked at Rissik, his head cocked to one side. “You know, you all right for a cop. So, is my big brother going to the House of D in Fairfax where they put me and the boys?”

Rissik thought for a moment before allowing a small, sly smile to curl one side of his mouth. “Yes, I'm quite sure Mr. Larson, born Kevin Thomas, will be remanded to the Adult Detention Center. Now I'm not sure how the attorneys will feel about it, since you're going to testify against him in court, but I think I just might be able to arrange a little family reunion while you're all there.”

The ocean over the side of the catamaran was a blue that Hannibal had thought only existed in a Crayola box. Cindy had used the word azure and he assumed she was right. To him, it was just blue, but a blue that didn't exist in the real world, only in cartoons. A few minutes ago he had been in that cartoon world, diving deep into the limitless sea, able to see forever in every direction and able to go as deep as his lungs would allow before shooting to the surface to take another breath through a snorkel tube. Then he had dived deep to greet colorful, exotic fish and coral with his personal mermaid by his side.

He spit out the saltiness and dropped his mask on the deck. Behind him, Cindy laid a hand on his shoulder, three shades darker than usual, and for the hundredth time whispered, “Thank you.”

“You deserve it and more,” Hannibal said. “Besides, I'm having at least as much fun as you are so…”

“Don't spoil it,” Cindy said. “Just let me appreciate my knight.”

Saint Tropez was just a fishing village in the sense that Las Vegas is just a Western frontier town. To Hannibal it was like walking through a movie set but to Cindy it was Disney World in French. But the sand on the beach really had been white, the drinks had been strong, and their time on and in the water truly magical. And healing.

“I'm happy with you just enjoying a vacation with your man.”

“A vacation?” Cindy dropped to the deck, pulling him down to sit with her staring out at the horizon. “Hannibal you haven't
198just brought me to wonderland. You saved my life. You know that don't you?”

“I think you're overstating a bit.”

She punched his shoulder. “Don't you dare make it less than it is. Maybe you don't understand how important your work is to people. Maybe I didn't know until this week.”

“You're talking of me closing the case?”

“You gave me closure by finding the man who killed my good friend. You allowed me to understand why someone would steal him away from me. You let me see exactly how and why I was not to blame, and that I wasn't a random victim. My world was spun into chaos, and you restored order.”

Hannibal closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of his woman's arm around his shoulders. Could she be right? Was he some kind of knight in shining armor? No. Not a knight or a hero, he decided. He was just a sheepdog, sent there to protect the sheep in his charge from the wolves who wandered the world.

“Cindy, I love you, and I'm glad I was able to keep to our plans and bring you to the Riviera. The rest, well, it's just what I do babe. So, how about you just thank me for the trip?”

Cindy's smooth skin glowed in the sun. Hannibal slid a hand into her hair, covered her mouth with his own, and accepted his fair and just reward.

Austin S. Camacho is the author of the Hannibal Jones Mystery Series and the Stark and O'Brien adventure series. His short stories have been featured in four anthologies from Wolfmont Press, including Dying in a Winter Wonderland – an Independent Mystery Booksellers Association Top Ten Bestseller for 2008 - and he is featured in the Edgar nominated African American Mystery Writers: A Historical and Thematic Study by Frankie Y. Bailey.

He is also a communications specialist for the Department of Defense. America's military people know him because for more than a decade his radio and television news reports were transmitted to them daily on the American Forces Network.

Camacho was born in New York City but grew up in Saratoga Springs, New York. He majored in psychology at Union College in Schenectady, New York. After three years, he enlisted in the Army as a weapons repairman but soon moved on to being a broadcast journalist.