Rune knew some nursery rhymes and some Shakespeare but she remained silent.
He continued, "But she made money hand over fist for a lot of people." He lifted a heavy decanter and started pouring two glasses of purple liquor, as he asked, "Would you like some port?"
She accepted the glass and sipped. It was cloying as honey and tasted like cough medicine.
"I started out as a ship's chandler. Do you know what that is?"
"A candle maker?" Rune shrugged.
"No, a provisioner. A supplier. Anything a captain wanted, from a ratchet to a side of beef, I would get it. I started when I was seventeen, rowing out to the ships as soon as they dropped anchor, even before the agents arrived or they'd started off-loading. I gave them cut prices, demanded half as a deposit, gave them fancy-looking receipts for the cash and always returned with what they wanted or a substitute that was better or cheaper."
"I was wondering, sir-" she began.
Frost held up a hand. "Listen. This is important. During the thirties I moved into the shipping myself."
Rune didn't see what was important but she let him talk.
And talk he did. Fifteen minutes later she'd learned about his growing fortune in the shipping business. He was talking about ship propellers he'd designed himself. "They called them Frost Efficiency Screws. I got such a kick out of that! Efficiency Screws! So my ships could make the run from the Strait of Hormuz around the horn to the Abrose Light in thirty-three days. Of course, I was wrong about the Suez Canal but I still had the fastest oil carriers in the world. Thirty-three days."
Rune said, "If I could ask you a few questions. About the Hopper killing."
"There's a point I'm trying to make."
"Sorry."
"I got out of shipping. I could see what would happen to oil. I could see the balance of trade shift. I didn't want to leave my ships; oh, that hurt me. But have to think ahead. Did you hear about the buggy-whip manufacturers who went out of business when autos were developed? You know what their problem was? They didn't think of themselves as being in theaccelerator business. Ha!" He loved the story, had probably told it a thousand times. "So what did I go into?"
"Airlines?"
Frost laughed derisively."Public transportation? Regulations ad nauseam. I thought about it but I knew that it would take one Democrat, two at the most, to ruin the industry. No, I diversified – financial services, mining, manufacturing. And I became the fourth-richest man in the world… You're skeptical. I can see that. You've never heard of me. Some old crackpot, you're thinking, who's lured me in here for who knows what nefarious prospects. But it's true. In the seventies I had three billion dollars." He paused. "And those were the days when a billion meant something."
He sat forward and Rune sensed he was getting to his point.
"But what could I do with money like that? Provide for my wife and children. Buy comfortable shoes, a good set of golf clubs, a warm coat, an apartment where the plumbing worked. I don't smoke; rich food makes me ill. Mistresses? I was contentedly married for forty-one years. I put my children through school, set up trust funds for the grandchildren, though not very fat ones, and…" He smiled, significantly."… I gave most of the rest away. Hence, you."
"Me? What exactly does all that have to do with the Hopper killing?"
Frost considered this for a moment. "I'm confessing."
She blinked.
"But," he said, "you have to understand. It didn't make any difference, you know."
"Uh, like, how exactly do you mean?"
"They had the other witness. You can't blame me really."
"Could you explain please."
"At the time, when he was killed, I had rny fortune. I was giving money away. I had people who worked for me who depended on me for their livelihood. Their families… You people in the media – a man never has any privacy around you." He pronounced it with a short i, privacy. Like "privileged."
He continued. "I was simply scared back then. I was afraid to tell the police that I'd seen Hopper killed. I'd be on news programs. I'd be in court. There'd be stories about my wealth. Kidnappers might come after my family or me. Do-gooders would start hounding me for money for their causes. I felt guilty at first but then I heard that that Breckman woman downstairs saw the whole thing and told the police about the killer. It took the pressure off me."
"But now you don't mind telling me what you saw? What's different now?"
Frost walked to the window and looked into the gloomy courtyard. "I have a different attitude toward life."
Oh, please, Rune was praying, do it now. Tell me what you saw. And, please, make it good. "May I?" She gestured toward the camera.
A pause. Then he nodded.
The lights clicked on. The camera hummed. She aimed it at Frost's long face.
"It's odd," he said wistfully, "what giving away your fortune does. It's a marvelous thing. I don't know why it hasn't caught on." He looked at her seriously. "Let me ask you, you know anybody else giving away a billion dollars?"
"None ofmy friends," Rune said. "Unfortunately."
19
Rune and Piper Sutton sat in front of the anchor woman's desk, watching the monitor. Out of it came two tinny voices.
"Mr Frost, did you see the shooting?"
"Plain as the nose on my face. Or your face -however that expression goes. It was horrible. I saw this man come up to Mr Hopper and pull out this little gun and shoot him, just push the pistol at him. It reminded me of the pictures of Ruby, you know, Jack Ruby, when he shot Oswald. Mr Hopper held his hands out like he was trying to catch the bullet…"
Sutton stirred but didn't say anything.
"Could you describe him?"
"He was a fat man. Not fat all over but with a beer belly. Like a timpani."
"A what?"
"A drum. Dark blandish hair. A moustache…
What's that? Sure, I'm positive about the moustache. And sideburns. A light jacket. Powder-blue. "
Rune said to Sutton, "That's Jimmy. The man who picked up Randy and drove him to New York."
Sutton frowned and waved her silent.
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
"I told you."
"If you could tell me again. Please."
"I was afraid – of retaliation. Of publicity. I was very wealthy. I was scared for me and my family. Anyway the killer was caught and identified. That woman downstairs identified the man, and I read that the police caught him practically red-handed. Why would they need me? "
"I'm going to show you a picture of someone… Could you tell me if this is the man you saw in the courtyard?"
"Who? This skinny fellow? No, that wasn't him at all."
"You'd swear to it?"
"Sure I would."
Click.
Rune kept staring at the monitor, a proud schoolkid waiting for the teacher's praise.
But Sutton's only comment was a breathy "Damn."
Rune tried not to smile with pleasure and unadulterated pride.
Sutton looked at her watch, then added, "I'm late for a meeting with Lee. Did you make a dupe of that tape?"
"Sure," Rune said. "I always make dupes. It's locked in my credenza."
Sutton said, "We've got a story conference on Friday. Bring your proposed script. You'll present to both of us and be prepared to defend every goddamn line. Got it?"
"You bet."
Sutton started to leave the office. She paused and said in a soft voice, "I'm not very good at praise. Just let me say that there aren't many people who would've stuck with it long enough to do what you did." Then she frowned and the old Sutton returned. "Now get some sleep. You look awful."