“I hope so. That would mean that you would pay a fair price for the land and also tell me that you weren’t part of a plan to have the Gardners killed so the land could be purchased from their relatives who might have been in line to inherit it.”
“I am fairly ruthless in the practice of business, but I do not hire killers, Mr. Massey.”
“It’s irrelevant now. Mrs. Gardner has fixed things so that if anything happens to her or her children, none of her relatives will inherit her holdings. In fact, if anything happens to any of the Gardners, it will be years, if ever, before anything is built on that parcel. That includes Cynthia Gardner. I think it would be mutually beneficial for you to pay Mrs. Gardner a fair price and sign the papers, which is as it should have been from the beginning-a perfectly clean and legal business matter.”
“Let’s move this discussion to my suite,” Klein said, nodding. “It will be more comfortable.” He picked up the five tiny figures and slipped them into his pocket before heading for the doorway.
Winter accepted a bottle of water from Steffan Finch, taking a seat across the coffee table from his host. He removed the copy of the legal document from his inside jacket pocket and slid it to Kurt Klein, who put on reading glasses, opened it, and read through the pages in silence.
“So in the event of her and her children’s deaths, Mrs. Gardner has willed her estate to the parents of Sherry Adams, who would be the young girl who was killed by this assassin you mentioned?”
“Yes,” Winter said. “They are corecipients along with their church congregation, the Advent Church of the Holy Spirit. I should mention that the group is unrepentantly anti-gaming. They will also be given a document that states Leigh Gardner’s strong suspicions that Sherry Adams was murdered in order to secure the land for a casino resort. And they all loved Sherry Adams.”
“If that document isn’t based on provable facts, it would be slander.”
“Unless it is merely her opinion, which it is, as it is mine and the sheriff’s, along with others I’ll leave unnamed.”
“And you suspect Pierce Mulvane ordered these killings?”
Winter explained what led him to that conclusion as Klein listened patiently without interrupting.
“And after this land is transferred-if I do not already own it, as I have been led to believe by Mulvane-what else do you want from me?”
“I’d like for Mr. Mulvane to call off Styer and secure Cynthia Gardner’s safe release.”
“Anything else?”
“I’d like to know how to find Styer.”
“The professional killer you believe he hired.”
Winter nodded. “Truth is, I had the feeling when I mentioned the name in the conference room, you recognized it.”
Klein shrugged. “In the world of international business I hear many things about many people.” Klein smiled, looking suddenly weary. “If Mulvane did hire this man to do what you said, he will be held accountable, and he will see that this Styer releases the girl unharmed. Would that be satisfactory?”
“It would.”
“And what do you think is a fair price for the Gardner land?”
“Five million dollars, at this point.”
“So can we do this tonight?” Kurt asked. “I can draw a check, or give her bearer bonds. You may use my phone and call her.”
“I will ask her,” Winter said.
Winter stepped across the room and dialed Brad Barnett. He asked to speak to Leigh, and ran through Klein’s proposal with her, hung up, and returned.
“She agrees. Either a cashier’s check or bearer bonds, and have your attorney bring the transfer papers. Her attorney will be here, along with Sheriff Barnett and myself. We’ll have security in place for her protection. Nothing personal.”
“Done. And I insist on your security measures.” Kurt Klein stood, extended his hand, and the two men shook.
“And Mulvane?” Winter said.
“If he has done what you say, I will know soon, and my people will hand him over to the sheriff, accompanied by a signed confession.”
“He may not want to sign one,” Winter said.
Kurt Klein smiled, showing his slightly yellowed teeth. “If he is guilty of what you say, Mr. Massey, I am certain he will sign it. On that you have my word, and if you know me, you know my word is good. And if he knows anything about Paulus Styer, he will share that with you, and you may do with that information what you like.”
“Then we’ll be here at nine sharp.”
As Klein showed Winter to the door, he said, “Mr. Massey, the thing to keep in mind is that I will not tolerate any threat to my family’s financial well-being.”
88
Alexa took Jason Parr’s cash out of her purse in the elevator riding up to the eighth floor. She looked in at her Glock and her badge case and frowned. Most women her age had never touched a gun, much less fired one. How many of them carried one in their purse ten hours a day as they might a tube of lipstick? But since she spent most of her time behind a desk, the gun in her purse was hardly more than a little extra ballast, which she was quite accustomed to by now.
The wide polished oak doors opening into the suites were hand-carved. According to the signs, there were twenty-five suites on the eighth floor, reserved for high rollers. Eight-twenty-two was down the hall on the right. She did a double take as she passed 825, which had double doors inside a foyer protected by closed wrought-iron gates.
Alexa stopped at 822 and tapped gently. “Come in, Alexa!” she heard Jason Parr yell through the heavy wood.
From deep in the suite, Jason called, “I’ll be right with you, I was just getting out of the shower when you called. Make yourself at home while I get dressed.”
“Okay, Jason,” she yelled back as she walked into the living room. “I can only stay a minute.” No expense had been spared in furnishing the living room. Instead of a medieval theme, modern furniture was placed on an oriental carpet, which made a horseshoe around a marble fireplace. The curtains were open, revealing large sealed windows, the Delta growing dark outside. To her left was an open kitchen with light marble floors, stainless appliances, pickled wood cabinets, and granite countertops.
“I could grow accustomed to this,” she called out.
“We sure ain’t in Kansas anymore,” he hollered back. “I’m almost presentable.”
“I brought your money back. I can’t keep it. I appreciate the gesture though.”
“Whatever you say. Just put it on the coffee table, would you?”
Alexa walked into the room and stopped at the large coffee table. She was about to put the cash on the table when she saw, evenly spaced out in the center of the slab of frosted glass, four red toothpicks. She picked one up and smelled it.
Realization gave way to a thick disorienting fear. She let the currency in her hand fall to the table as she reached into her purse for the Glock. She knew-as she sensed a figure rushing up from behind her-that she’d never get it out in time.
She turned, registered that the man coming at her was narrower than Jason Parr, and felt a stream of cold liquid hit her face-searing her eyes. Even so, she almost got the Glock out.
89
After Massey left, Kurt Klein sat in silence for several minutes, thinking over his options. All things considered, five million was a bargain. Even if it were not, purchasing the land from Mrs. Gardner was the only move he could make without changing the location and starting over, which was not an option. Time was money, and every hour of delay would be financially painful, because his family’s entire empire depended on the continuing trust of a trio of international financiers. These men, who didn’t know better, believed Klein sold them points in RRI’s profits as a personal favor. If they lived, they might find out that Klein had oversold future profits to nine investors at an inflation of almost three hundred percent. However, Klein counted on the fact that for a fee, Paulus Styer would whittle down the money men, and the percentages, to something he could live with.