When Empires Fall (33 page)

“You said you had the flu and that was why you couldn’t be there.”

“Oh.” He paused, suddenly remembering the real reason why he hadn’t made it out to see her graduate. He’d taken a trip down to Jamaica with some blonde he couldn’t even remember the name of now. They’d gotten wasted and made love in the sand, then did lines of coke on the bathroom sink. Forcing the memory from his mind, he tried to smile at his daughter. “Yeah, I was really sick, baby, you wouldn’t have wanted me to be there.”

“I suppose not…” Kennedy mumbled, wondering why she had the distinct feeling that he was lying to her.

Win turned his attention then to his other three children and, as he approached them, he blinked back guilty tears from his eyes. He looked to Grant first, his oldest son, and tried not to focus on how much the boy looked like Cyrus. If he started making that correlation, he knew he might just bolt from the hotel like a bat out of hell.

“Grant,” Win greeted, holding out his hand. Grant shook his father’s hand, but the contact was cold and brief, as was his silent nod.

He turned then to his other daughter, and again tried not to see his father in her face. “Hi, princess.”

Madison angled her head as she eyed him frostily, taking in his expensive clothes, most likely forced on him by her mother. He’d washed his hair and didn’t look nearly as disheveled as she had imagined, though one look at his eyes gave away the truth. He’d been using. Recently, too. Most definitely alcohol, and given the way he trembled and the jittery, scattered look in his eyes, he was probably on some kind of uppers as well. Disappointment lashed through her in one violent swipe.

“I hope you understand that your life is about to change dramatically,” she said quietly, keeping her voice down so only her family could hear. Win’s eyes widened at her words and his forehead creased with worry.

“Did he say something to you? Is he going to hurt me?” Win stammered, one quick shudder racing over him at the very thought.

Madison glared at him, scowling. “We’re not going to have this discussion here. It can wait until you’re settled in and we can speak in private.”

“Grandpa Cyrus doesn’t know about the tabloid yet, if that’s what you’re asking.” Linc put in, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his expression pitiless as he stared at his father.

Win looked to his youngest son and let out a relieved half laugh. “Good. I hope you all can understand why I will want protection while I am here.”

“I say we throw you to the wolves,” Linc spat viciously, his eyes narrowing. “It’s about time you took responsibility for your actions.”

Before Win could respond, Marshall cut in and placed a hand smoothly on Linc’s shoulder. “There is certainly a lot to discuss. Why don’t I show you to your room, Win, and you can get settled in before dinner?”

He led Win towards the elevators before more angry words could be exchanged, a bellhop following them with Win’s luggage. At the same moment, Madison’s cell phone rang. She glanced down at it quickly before answering.

“Hello, Detective Hughes. How are you?” she answered, staring pointedly at her brothers as she spoke.

“
I’m just fine, Ms. Vasser. Is your father with you?
”

She considered his question, wondering if they were going to need more time with her father before they handed him over to the detective. Deciding it was best not to lie, she told him the truth. “He just arrived here at the hotel. He’s going to be staying here for awhile so we can get this all straightened out.”

“
I will be by tomorrow morning to speak with him. Can you please let him know I am coming?
”

“Certainly. Goodbye, detective.” Madison hung up the phone and eyed her family. “Detective Hughes will be by tomorrow morning to speak to him. I suggest we get this straightened out by this evening and have a concrete story for all of us to adhere to before he arrives.”

“We’ll give him two hours to settle in, and then I’ll talk with him in private,” Grant decided, glancing over at Linc. “You can have your words with him later. He may feel more comfortable talking with just me at first.”

“Whatever.” Linc shrugged. “I’ve got work to do.”

“I’ve got an errand to run. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Madison rose onto her toes to kiss Grant on the cheek, then kissed Linc as well. “Be good, boys.”

She said a brief goodbye to her mother and sister before swiftly leaving the hotel, knowing she could not put this off any longer.

It was time to tell him and she had to pray she was doing the right thing.

The moment Don
hung up the phone Wyatt Bailey took a seat in the chair across from him at his desk.

“Detective Hughes?” Wyatt held out his hand cordially, his smile quick and direct.

“That’s me,” Don replied, shaking the stranger’s hand. “What can I do for you?”

“I believe the real question here is what can
I
do for
you
.”

Don released Wyatt’s hand and leaned back in his chair, casually tapping his pencil on the surface of his desk as he eyed him curiously. “I’m listening.”

“My name is Wyatt Bailey.” He reached up to tilt down the edge of his hat to the detective in greeting. “I’m an old friend of Win Vasser’s.”

“If you’re here about the tabloid article-”

“I’m not. In fact, I only just recently found out about the tabloid, long after I had made the drive out from Maine with the intent of giving you a heads up on your case.” Wyatt leaned back in the chair, his smile dark as he remembered the shock he’d had when he had spotted Win’s face on countless magazines in the newsstand that morning. “I know for a fact that he is telling the truth in that tabloid.”

“How do you know?”

“Because seven years ago, when the two of us became friends in Las Vegas, he told me about how he had witnessed his father murder his grandfather.”

Don’s eyes narrowed and he scowled impatiently. “And how do I know you didn’t just read the article and decide to make this up to get your own name in the papers?”

Wyatt only smiled, the movement bordering on aggressive. He wasn’t a big fan of cops or their ingrained habit of always assuming the worst of people. He was here to do this man a favor, yet there was not an ounce of appreciation being thrown his way. Yet, anyway.

“Winston Vasser was killed with a .22 Derringer Pistol which was registered in his name and usually kept in the right side drawer of his desk. The killer stood at Winston’s left side and held the gun against his left temple before pulling the trigger. When Winston slumped over, his nose hit the desk and broke. Those are all facts that were not included in the tabloid article, nor were they included in the original newspaper reports from the 1950s. They are facts that Win gave as he related to me what he had witnessed when he was seven years old.”

Don was silent for a moment, digesting the information Wyatt had just given him. All of the facts were in line with the original police report, which made him both intrigued and suspicious. He didn’t feel inclined to trust the man, but he supposed it didn’t hurt to at least give him some consideration.

“What else did Win Vasser tell you?”

“Only that he is terrified of his father and has been ever since that day. That’s why he’s the black sheep of the family. He’s largely tried to stay out of his father’s way and as a result has never amounted to anything more than a beggar, living off the money his kids earned.”

“You don’t sound as though you respect Win very much, Mr. Bailey,” Don concluded, eyeing Wyatt curiously. “But you consider him to be a friend?”

“We had some good times.” Wyatt smirked. “Win’s not a bad guy, he’s just troubled. Wouldn’t you be if you had seen what he saw when he was just a kid? Pardon my French, detective, but that’d make anybody fucking crazy.”

“I don’t doubt that it would,” Don agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully with his right hand as he continued to watch Wyatt. “How did you know to come to me, Mr. Bailey?”

“Win said Marshall told him to expect a detective knocking on his door, that the case had been reopened. Consequently he called me and told me that if you somehow found your way to
my
door, that I should play dumb and say I don’t know anything. Obviously, I felt it was better that I come to you with what I know and air this out once and for all. After a few phone calls I had your name, your office hours, and your expected date of arrival back from the west coast. And now here we are, enjoying this little chat.”

“Resourceful.” Don’s lips quirked into a vaguely impressed smile as he sat up in his chair and shuffled some of the paperwork around on his desk. “This investigation has not yet leaked to the press, Mr. Bailey. I would prefer that it stay that way, for the sake of the family. If you truly care about them, as you’ve made it sound, then I urge you to keep this to yourself.”

Wyatt thought briefly of Madison and relished the image as he grinned at the detective and rose to his feet, reaching out to shake Don’s hand. “I’ve kept the secret this long, detective.”

“I’m going by the hotel tomorrow to speak with Win and the family about his accusations. Would you prefer it if I left your name out of the discussion?”

“Win’s in town?” Wyatt asked, his interest piqued at the thought. “I’ll be damned. Here I was thinking he’d never set foot in New York City until the old man croaked.”

“So I take it that you don’t mind if I mention your name to them when they ask me who it was who corroborated Win’s story?”

With a conspirator’s wink, Wyatt backed away from the desk and tilted his hat once more at Don. “You do whatever makes you happy, detective. I’ll be staying at the Waldorf through the weekend if you need to reach me.”

Don watched Wyatt leave, the wheels turning in his brain as he figured all of the angles. It was possible that this man had some ulterior motive and that he was merely trying to spice up the investigation. But what Wyatt Bailey didn’t know, or at least hadn’t mentioned, was that there was a letter that implicitly named Cyrus Vasser as a killer. Wyatt seemed to be trusting Win’s word alone, and clearly he had not been told the reason for the case being reopened. It appeared as though he didn’t care what the reason was, he just wanted the opportunity to set things straight.

If anything, at least the man had just presented himself as another rung on the ladder towards a conviction. Now he could counter any attempt by Win Vasser to deny the validity of the tabloid by simply bringing up his conversation with Mr. Wyatt Bailey.

D
id you know,
pépère
? Did you know that he knew?” Madison asked, her arms crossed rigidly over her chest as she sat at the foot of her grandfather’s hospital bed. Cyrus eyed her contemptuously, his mouth twisting into a furious scowl.

“Of course I didn’t,” he spat, his hands fisting around the soft blue blankets of the bed, the machines and monitors beside him beeping faster as his heart rate elevated. “If I had known, do you think I would have let him live?”

“If you had done something as drastic as killing your own seven year old son then I would not be here,” Madison reminded him, rising to her feet to pace the room, her heels tapping hollowly over the smooth hospital floor. “Who would have run your hotel if not for my brothers and I?”