The Legacy (30 page)

Cole grabbed Bennetts face with his left hand, digging his fingernails deep into Bennetts skin, but Bennett only squeezed harder. Cole felt himself beginning to black out. He dug his right hand into the wet pocket of his pants, pulled out Billys switchblade, snapped it open and thrust it deeply into the back of Bennetts thigh.

Bennett screamed and lifted up, reaching behind his leg for the knife handle with both hands. As he did, Cole punched him and he tumbled away, still screaming madly.

Cole was on him again right away. With a huge effort he rolled Bennett across the dock and over the edge. Bennett splashed into the water and disappeared beneath the black surface. Cole scanned the dock quickly and saw the cassette case protruding from beneath the rowboat. He scrambled across the wooden floor, grabbed the tape, rose to his feet and darted for the door. Behind him he heard Bennett resurface, arms flailing.

The wind had risen to gale force now and the snow was blowing almost horizontally as Cole emerged from the boathouse, still dripping wet. He shielded his eyes for a moment, identified the path leading up the slope to the mansion and raced toward it, the Dealey Tape in the crook of his right arm. His boots were filled with water and felt like lead weights as he ran.

Come back here, you bastard! Bennett shouted. He had pulled himself from the water and was now moving forward through the snow in the same slow-motion gait as Cole.

The path up to the mansion was only a few feet wide and was now covered by almost eight inches of snow. Cole felt as if his lungs would burst as he labored through the snow, but he kept going. Suddenly he slipped and tumbled back down the hill, breaking his fall by grabbing onto the stump of a tree. He pulled himself up and loped back over his own footsteps, finally breaking into virgin snow again. Bennett was only thirty feet behind, and Cole could feel his strength failing. His clothes were almost frozen stiff and he could barely put one foot in front of the other.

At the top of the hill Cole stumbled toward the mansion. If he remained outside, Bennett would catch him. It was as simple as that. Bennett would simply follow his tracks even if he could make it to the woods, and he didnt have the strength to fight off another of Bennetts onslaughts.

Cole aimed for a first-floor window, ran as hard as he could over the snow-covered lawn toward it and dove over a hedge. He smashed through the glass and wood of the window and landed on a carpeted floor, then quickly staggered to his feet and headed for a stairway leading up from what appeared to be a large family room in a finished basement. He shivered as he raced up the steps. It was warmer in here, perhaps fifty degrees, enough heat to keep the pipes from freezing over the long winter. Only fifty degrees, but suddenly that felt tropical.

At the top of the steps, Cole lifted a ski jacket from one of the hooks lining the wood paneling of the stairway. As he did, he noticed the blood dripping from the wound where the bullet had grazed his arm. He heard a loud crash from the basement as he slipped into the jacket. That had to be Bennett coming through the window. Cole sprinted left down a hallway and into the kitchen, grabbed a long knife out of a butcher block on the counter and headed up the back stairs. At the top of the stairway he stopped and listened, but he heard nothing, only the whistle of the wind from outside.

He moved quietly down the second-floor central corridor, twisting and turning past doorways. Bennett could be anywhere along the corridor, behind any door or around any corner. Cole stopped as he saw the corridor open onto the main staircase ahead, then slid along the wall until he reached the steps. Checking back over his shoulder, he leaned around the corner. The main door was down there. If he could slip out without Bennett hearing him, maybe hed be able to make it to the Jeep and get back to Billys lodge. Even if Bennett realized he had left and followed his tracks to where the Jeep had been parked, it wouldnt matter, because at that point hed be long gone. Cole began to move quietly out around the corner toward the top step.

Bennett stood behind the living room wall around the corner from the bottom of the main staircase. He licked his lip and tasted the blood trickling down his face from the gash in his forehead. He raised the knife he had taken from the kitchen. He had noticed one missing from the block and realized that Cole was armed as well, which was fine. Cole had no chance of winning a knife fight with him.

Bennett gripped the knife tightly. Cole was coming down these stairs right now. Coming down blind, unaware that the enemy was waiting at the bottom. He sensed Coles presence. He sensed the kill, as he had in Bryant Park when hed tailed Agent Graham, then smashed the young mans head with the pipe and recovered what hed assumed was the first Dealey Tape. A tape that had turned out to be nothing more than a presentation about some company Gilchrist was going to take public.

Suddenly Bennett heard glass shatter upstairs.

Dammit! Instantly he broke from his hiding place. Cole must be trying to escape through an upstairs window by crawling out onto a porch roof, climbing down a support beam, then running into the woods. Bennett turned the corner and limped up the stairs. He reached the second-floor bathroom through which Cole had hurled the chair at the same time Cole reached the front door.

Having thrown the chair through the window, Cole had retraced his steps down the corridor and the back stairs. He waited only long enough to hear Bennett running down the second-floor corridor before he quietly opened the mansions front door, then sprinted through the snow toward the woods.

WHERE THE HELL have you been? Tori was up off the couch as soon as Cole burst through the front door and into the great room of Billy Threefeatherss lodge.

Where havent I been? he muttered under his breath, heading straight toward the television located against the cedar wall directly in front of the couch.

Cole, answer me! She tossed her hair back and put her hands on her hips. We were worried about you.

I wasnt, Billy offered calmly from the kitchen adjoining the great room, where he was cooking an omelet. You sure you two aint married, Cole? You act like it.

Thatll be the day, Cole muttered again, kneeling down in front of the television and turning on the set and the VCR on the shelf below.

Whats that supposed to mean? Tori asked curtly.

Nothing. Cole withdrew the tape from the case and inserted it carefully into the VCR.

Whats that? Tori suddenly forgot her irritation as she noticed the case.

Beauty and the Beast, Cole retorted. With all this snow, I figured wed need some entertainment today. He held his breath and prayed. In the time that the tape had been on the beam it would have been subjected to intense cold, heat and dampness. It might be blank and worthless by now. Finally, the tape began to play.

Oh my God, Tori whispered as the black open-top limousine appeared. She sank back onto the sofa as the vehicle drifted down Elm Street away from the Texas School Book Depository.

Billy put down his spatula and moved to the counter separating the kitchen from the great room, his gaze riveted to the screen.

Cole smiled. It was the same footage he had watched in the Gilchrist screening room and the quality looked good. Just let there be a rifle, he thought to himself.

The limousine moved into view and out of nowhere the bullet tore into the presidents back.

Hes shot! Tori screamed as Kennedy hunched over. My God! She screamed again, gesturing at the television, her hands trembling.

Sweet baby Jesus, Billy murmured quietly, mesmerized by the images.

Cole pointed to the place on the screen where the rifle lay over the fence. There it is. His fingers were shaking, too.

I see it, I see it, Tori yelled. She was down on her knees, crawling toward the television.

Suddenly the puff of smoke burst from the rifle barrel and the presidents head snapped back toward the camera.

Tori put her hands to her mouth as Kennedys head exploded. Oh my God. Thats horrible.

How many VCRs do you have, Billy? Cole asked over his shoulder as he stopped the tape and rewound it. You saw the gun, right? This time he directed his question at Tori.

Yes, yes. Theres no doubt where the killing shot came from, she answered. It came from behind the fence.

I just have one VCR, Cole. Billy could barely speak. He was awestruck by what he had just seen. He could still remember coming out of the woods that day in 1963 after shooting a big buck deer, heading to the Kro Bar for a posthunt drink and hearing that John Kennedy was dead.

Are there any in the outer cabins? Cole asked. The Dealey Tape in the VCR was almost certainly the last one, and there could still be plenty of land mines out there to avoid before the cassette was safe. It seemed like an excellent idea to make another copy while he could.

No. Billy was still reliving that day in 1963.

Cole, Im prepared to offer you ten million dollars for that tape right now, Tori said, kneeling beside him, breathing hard.

Cole looked steadily at Tori. He knew what she was thinking: that this tape would be the centerpiece of one of the biggest television events in history. NBC would advertise the tape for weeks before broadcasting it on one of their prime-time newsmagazines, and make millions when they finally aired it. See the Proof, the trailers would announce. Maybe the network would show a snippet of the tape during the trailer just to whet peoples appetites. It would be a two-hour special, beginning at nine eastern, and NBC wouldnt actually show the tape for the first time until ten-thirty at the earliest. The network would keep a nation on the edge of its seats while it interviewed key players from both sidesthose who had claimed conspiracy all these years, and those who had scoffed at the notion. Christ, the advertisers would pay through the nose, probably millions for a thirty-second spot, because the world would stand still for a night. It would be bigger than the Super Bowl or Princess Dianas funeral.

Ten million, huh? Cole made certain his tone projected ambivalence, even as the dimple appeared in his cheek.

Youre always negotiating, arent you? she asked.

Always.

I know my people will pay that much, Tori assured Cole. But you have to make a commitment to me right now, she pushed.

He stared at her for several moments before responding. You put that note under my door.

What are you talking about?

Someone shoved a note under my hotel room door the day after I got back to New York. He had been absolutely convinced all along that it had been Bennett, but now he realized hed been wrong. It was you who put the note under the door, Cole murmured. Youre the only one it could have been.

Youre crazy.

But Cole saw the truth in her eyes. No, Im not.

All right, she admitted softly. You arent.

No Cole stopped short. He hadnt been prepared for her to admit to it so quickly. How did you get the note?

Tori glanced at Billy, then took Coles hands in hers. Ive known your father for fifteen years. There was no telling how he was going to take this, but she had to let him know. I love your father very much.

What? Cole laughed nervously. Are you serious?

Yes.

You and he are . . . Coles voice trailed off. He couldnt finish the sentence.

Lovers, she finished the thought. Yes. It was her turn to laugh. What a relationship. I met him fifteen years ago in East Germany while I was covering a story, and I bet I havent seen him more than thirty times in all those years. I sure know how to pick them. She smiled apologetically at Cole. I didnt mean that the way it sounded.

Its all right. Cole shook his head. Jim Egan certainly was a man of many surprises. But now, as he thought about it, Cole realized the relationship with Tori made a great deal of sense. His father wouldnt have had many people to trust, so he had spent fifteen years getting to know Tori. Making certain he could trust her. My father gave you the note? he asked.

Yes, about three weeks ago

Three weeks ago, Cole interrupted. Then my father is alive.

Yes.

He had been right after all. The exhilaration was incredible, like nothing he had ever experienced. Youre sure? Cole asked.

Absolutely.

Keep going, Cole urged. He gave you the note, and . . .

And he said to watch the New York Times for his obituary. When I saw it, I was to make contact with you and deliver the note. He told me he wasnt really going to be dead, that the obituary was just a signal.

Placed by a son who had no idea what was really going on. Why didnt he just give me the note? Cole asked.

He was certain people were watching you and looking for him. He was in hiding. He couldnt risk leaving his lair, as he called it.

Where did he give you the note, in New York?

No, in a little town in Montana. Thats where he was hiding. I flew out there and met him in a greasy diner. It was all prearranged six months ago, the time I saw him before Montana.

Cole snapped his fingers. Six months ago was about the same time his father had shown up at the Gilchrist trading floor.

Tori laughed. You should have seen his disguise in Montana. He looked like the Unabomber or something with his long hair and beard and mustache. I would never have known it was him if he hadnt tapped me on the shoulder. He made me wait there an hour after the scheduled time. He told me it was because he was making certain I hadnt been followed. I thought maybe he was losing his mind at that point. She nodded at the VCR. Now that Ive seen the tape I can understand his paranoia.