Chapter 4: Twists

Chapter 4

Twists

Derek Mallory sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wanted so much to think about Jinx, about their future together. Instead, the only thoughts allowed to obsess him were Gunther Wagner, Gavin Wylie, Sky Whitney, and Damian Tyler. He mused about putting Wylie, Whitney, and Tyler together in a small room and allow Whitney to be beaten to a pulp. It would satisfy him immensely. Whitney had taken Raven form him, after all. No, that wasn't true, Raven was never his. She'd been waiting for Whitney's proposal all along. He shook his head. That was almost a year ago, Raven was out and Jinx was in, and Jinx made him smile more often than Raven ever did.

Calvin knocked and opened his door simultaneously. “Chief, you busy?”

“Always, what's on your mind?”

“I just got off the phone with Mike Karr. Looks like Gavin's troubles are over, at least legal-wise.”

“Oh?”

“He petitioned for the charges against Gavin to be dropped. Since he's the D.A., I don't think Cliff will object.”

Derek smiled slightly. “That's good. Nelson knew it was an uphill battle when he took the case. Probably his best move was convincing Mike to release him to Miles's custody. All else just seemed to fall into place without him.”

Calvin sat down. “Yeah. Mike already talked to Gavin. I'm just afraid for my friend right now.”

“Why?”

“Well, since it looks like Whitney set him up for Gunther Wagner's murder, Whitney might still carry a grudge. Once he hears about Gavin's release...”

Derek shook his head. “The trouble is finding Whitney. He'd be stupid to come back to get at Gavin.”

“Maybe he's already done something stupid. You know that intruder at the Whitney house last night?”

“Right, you think he was after the butler Spencer Varney?”

“Looks that way. Spencer could testify to Bobbie Gerard's shoe being in the fireplace.”

Derek pulled out a file folder. “Jack Gerhart, that's your boy down in the cell.”

“Yeah, I saw his ID. He hasn't confessed to anything yet. He's keeping to a house burglary claim. Not with that weapon.”

Mallory looked at the file. “He's not from here. He's from Detroit.”

Calvin raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Oh? Just passing through Monticello on a whim?”

“No. He has a quite a rap sheet, mostly gang activities. An rising underworld punk at 25.”

Calvin frowned. “That's a puzzler.”

“Maybe not. Remember that theory you laid on me last night about Romeo Slade?”

“It wasn't a theory, just something that Spencer himself put in my brain. Remember how Romeo Slade had nothing on his yellow sheet about burglary? So why did he have that fancy target pistol?”

“Yeah,” Derek mused half to himself. “But why would he want to kill Raven?”

“Unless hired.”

“By whom?”

“My guess is Whitney himself.”

Derek shook his head. “That makes no sense! They'd just gotten married less than a month before.”

“Ah, but we've been wondering why Whitney would want Gunther dead. Gunther knew everything about his boss, so that's something to blackmail him with.”

“Maybe. So the question is, why would Whitney want his bride dead?”

“If we find him we can ask him. Heard from Tyler?”

“Yeah, he's taking one more week to work with a cop named Isler. They left this morning for Bern, in fact, while we were just getting off from our late shift.”

Calvin was confused. “Bern? Why there? I thought all the action was in St. Moritz.”

“Key word there's was. Apparently Isler is transferring there anyway and the capital has better resources to track Whitney.”

“I don't know. His money can buy good hiding places.”

Derek grinned. “Now that Whitney's been made an international suspect, it's a whole new ballgame.”

Jefferson Brown looked out of his hotel window. He was angry, angry that his usually available Paris mansion was being used through May. Not that this suite was lacking, it was all he needed for...how long? A month, maybe two? Raven's 'accident' was surely arousing some suspicion by now. He wondered if the body had been found yet. If so, the injuries would be found be to more than just a ski accident. He shrugged, then sat back, fully realizing what he had done. He'd murdered four people, caused a heart attack death, and blackmailed a beautiful woman to be his love slave. He had to admit, money not only made for personal power, it made for personal hell. How the hell did that snot-nosed kid Whitney make it so easy? He was just as arrogant, after all. But Whitney had charisma, he drew people, albeit brainless broads, to him just through sheer magnetism. I had to blackmail and push my authority. A tear fell down Brown's face. And because of that, I ruined it for myself. Well, at least I have the money. From here I can sell the businesses and live in silent luxury.

Brown reached for the newspaper, wondering if any Swiss police business reached Paris. He was fluent enough in French to read the Paris headlines. After getting past the political and artsy nonsense, his eye caught the name Whitney on page 5, along with his picture. Decoding the French, it was perfectly clear: he was officially a wanted man, but not for Raven's death. He was wanted for murder in the States! He put the paper down and began to pace again.

Spencer, it had to be him! No, wait. He looked back at the paper. The manhunt had started in Switzerland. He read further and saw Damian Tyler mentioned. Damn him to hell! No, damn me! Too much emotion, too much anger went into that attempt on the slope. He got to a hospital, called in to Derek Mallory, and the wheels of justice began to turn, no, began to grind against me! He looked at the door, wondering how long it would be before the police knocked. If the clerk had seen him beneath the sunglasses, it was only a matter of time. Time now to move. But where?

In the Bern airport, Isler and Damian Tyler waited for their bags. Isler looked at Damian's leg. “Our first stop is the hospital.”

Damian shook his head. “No, I'll be fine! I have one week to bring Whitney back. After that-”

“After that you go home and I continue the hunt if it goes that long. You are of no use to me if we are in what you call a hot pursuit and you cannot move.”

“Fine, but no more than a few hours.”

“As long as it takes. I don't think much more can happen today, do you?”