“Get her out of here,” I yelled to Delilah, and they were gone, and I was looking down at the youngster lying at my feet. I saw his eyes go blank.
It was my godson, Eli Junior.
My bullet killed him.
They both stopped talking. They were long past tears but the depth of their sadness swept through the garden like a cold wind. Bannon took Millicent’s hand with both of his, held it tightly, and kissed it. Tears trickled down her face.
All I could think of was to get Eli out of there. I moved as fast I could. Wrapped him up in the Persian rug, which was drenched in blood. There was hardly any blood in the room except on the bedspread. I ripped it off the bed and threw it in the closet. Then I picked Eli up and carried him outside through the side door by the hedgerow, down to his car, and put him in the trunk. When I came back, the coroner was just arriving. I said as casually as I could, “Nothing in the bedroom.” I had left the door open so he wouldn’t see the hole in the door.
Then I made the toughest phone call I ever made in my life. I called Ben and told him to meet me at the overlook. It was foggy as hell. You couldn’t even see your belt buckle. He met me there and we mourned over Eli. We prayed over him and we talked to him and we were dying inside. We decided his mother could never know what happened. Killed in a whorehouse, killed by a man she loved. It would have killed her. He was her magic child, the mortar in a great friendship. So we cranked up the Chevy and I got behind the wheel, drove it to the edge, and jumped out. It seemed to take forever before it hit the shelf. And then a minute or so later, it exploded.
I don’t know how Ben kept his sanity when he went home to Isabel. He had to wait until the next morning, until a newsboy saw the wreck on his way up Cliffside Road, and I went over and told them both.
He stopped and held his glass up. Delilah filled it. Bannon looked across the table at the old warrior.
“And you kept that secret until Isabel died?”
Culhane nodded. “Me, Ben, Delilah, and old Eli knew.”
“And one more,” Bannon said. “The girl young Eli was with-Wilma Thompson.”
Millicent looked shocked. Delilah surprised. Culhane just smiled.
“Figured it out, didn’t you, Cowboy?”
“It’s the only way it made sense. The out-of-towners weren’t coming to barter for a piece of the action. Riker sent them because he figured Delilah was hiding Wilma at Grand View.”
“He had just done ten lousy days in the local jail for beating her up,” Delilah said. “It should have been ten years. When she dropped out of sight, he sent those animals up to my place to find her.”
Delilah is in her apartment when Noah taps on the door.
“It’s old Mist’ Eli,” Noah says. “He’s downstairs in his car. Can’t come in ’cause of the wheelchair.”
Delilah and Eli are friends, have been for years. Not social friends. Eli had never been to Grand View, but they talked on the phone once a week or so, about Eureka, about Riker. Delilah grabs her mink, wraps herself in it, and goes down. Raymond, Eli’s chauffeur, holds the door for her and she gets in the backseat. Raymond wanders off in the dark.
Eli looks frail; even in the darkness of the car she can see the toll the shooting has taken on him. Six months and he is still mourning. Will always mourn the loss of his grandson. But his eyes glitter in the gloom. The window is cracked slightly and smoke from his cigar wisps through it.
“Does the cigar bother you?” he asks. Always the gentleman.
“Don’t be silly,” she says and lights a cigarette.
“There’s nobody I can trust as much as I trust you, Del,” he says. There is something in his voice, a cruelness she has not heard before. Anger, yes, but not cruelty.
She says nothing.
“The young girl, Wilma? You are protecting her, aren’t you?”
Delilah doesn’t answer at first. Then she slowly nods.
“She’s not one of my girls, Eli. She does some work around the place and I pay her a salary, but she stays under cover.”
“She meant a lot to young Eli, didn’t she?”
Delilah nods. “She’s a decent young woman. Just got mixed up with Riker. Those things happen.”
“I have a plan,” the old man says.
“What kind of plan?”
“To get rid of Riker once and for all.”
Delilah just nods, wondering where he is heading with this.
“They call the son of a bitch ‘the Fisherman’ because he kills people and drops them at sea for the fish to eat. He probably doesn’t do the killing himself, his kind never do. They have scum who do it for them.”
Delilah still doesn’t say a word.
“Supposing it appeared that he killed Wilma?”
“Kill Wilma!”
“I said ‘appears.’ ”
Delilah stares at him, at the tip of the cigar glowing in the dark.
“You want to frame Riker?” she say cautiously.
“He lives on his boat. I hear he drinks heavily. Drunk almost every night…”
“You want to frame him,” she says, and it is not a question.
He quickly outlines his plan.
Delilah sits quietly for a minute.
“Brodie won’t buy it, Eli. Brett Merrill won’t either.”
“I know that. We need somebody else to do it, somebody who’ll pull it off without a hitch, so nobody ever knows. Wilma can disappear, go anywhere she wants. I’ll arrange for her to get a new license, a new identity, and make life easy for her for the rest of her life.”
Delilah is quiet again. A long minute passes.
“This is a very risky thing.”
“I know that, my dear.” His voice is the voice of the crafty old fox. The man who outfoxed her father. Age and illness had wasted his body but not his brain.
“You want me to set this up?”
“No. Just find the right man. I’ll do the talking. Only the three of us will ever know. When I die, I want to know we are rid of Riker forever.”
“Let me think about it,” she says after a little thought.
Two nights later she comes to his house. They sit in his library.
“Do you know Eddie Woods?” she asks.
“I met him when he first came on the force. And his friend…”
“Dave Carney. Woods saved Brodie’s life.”
“I know all about that.”
“Woods is from Boston. A tough street kid. After he got out of the Marines, he was headed for trouble. Carney was a Boston cop. He and Woods served in Merrill’s regiment together. They became friends. Carney was married, had two kids. But he had heart problems and the Boston police retired him early. Not much of a pension for a man with three mouths to feed. When Brodie called Woods and asked him to come on the force, he brought Carney in, too. You know Brodie. Once a Marine, always a Marine.”
The old man nods.
“When he first came here a year or so ago, Eddie used to come by the place every once in a while. Then he started seeing some young girl from down in Milltown. On the sly.”
“Is that important?”
“Woods may need a witness. Without a body, it will be hard to convict Riker.”
“I see.”
“And he may need Carney’s help.”
“That’s a lot of people…”
“You, me, Eddie, Dave, Wilma, and the girl. Six people.”
“I’ll make it profitable for them all.”
“You’ll have to ask him, Eli. Woods is in awe of you. If the idea is presented by you, and he thinks it will help Brodie clean up the town…”
She lets the sentence die.
“Will you set up the meeting with Eddie Woods?”
“Tomorrow night.” Delilah nods. “Just the three of us to start with…”
“It worked like a charm,” Delilah said. “Woods worked out the details. He and Dave spent two months stealing blood from the hospital, a little bit at a time. They grilled Lila Parrish until she had her story down pat. Carney watched Riker like a hawk, knew every move he made. Carney’s payoff was a trust fund for his wife and kids. He knew his ticker wouldn’t last long. Eddie didn’t ask for a dime. But after it was over and Fontonio took over for Riker, Eddie knew he had to take him out, too. Eli set him up in business and gave him twenty thousand dollars to get started.”