“So you think someone killed Chester and you think I had something to do with it.”
“Could be. You were thick as thieves as far back as you can go. In a business way you’ve been in bed together before this. I think Chester was holding your end while you were playing around at City Hall. I think you might make a handy sum on this Core Two project, under the table, of course, and in a way that will look kosher on paper after the fact. I think you would steal pencils from a crippled beggar if you saw some advantage in it. But I don’t give a damn about your character, Mr. Ward. I only want to find out who bumped off your pal. You’d think that as his friend you’d want to give me a hand. Instead you call Harrow. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind. I’m used to being leaned on from one direction or another. Funny thing is that he’s your pal, not mine.” I took another sip of the ginger ale.
“Look, it’s ludicrous that anyone would kill Chester. But supposing he was murdered, I still can’t think of any motive.”
“You had a lot to gain. He was in your pocket. Wouldn’t you gain the upper hand in what you were planning to split on Core Two?”
“That’s the second time you mentioned Core Two. I don’t know where you heard about it, but you’ve been misinformed. I work for the city. I’m not a cheap speculator.”
“Who said you were cheap? There’s big money riding on Core Two. And the way you’re playing it, it isn’t speculating.”
“You’re drunk, disgusting, and way beyond your depth. Core Two is a city matter. I’m just an advisor to the mayor and the council. I get paid a fixed salary.”
“Yeah, about as much as a postman, I’ve heard, with perks, of course, with perks. But something like Core Two doesn’t come along every day. And there you are with Chester ready and waiting to help you again, just like in the old days. There’d be money in it for him too, naturally.”
“This is just talk; you can’t substantiate any of this.”
“I can prove that Chester knew about Core Two. So, at the very least, you’re the best guess as to who told him about it. That’s a breach of trust, before we get to any money. I’ve got that much in Chester’s handwriting. I’ve got more. I know you were being squeezed by Zekerman. He was also interested in Core Two. Zekerman was a greedy man, Mr. Ward. He found out about it from Chester. Chester wasn’t hard the way you are. Chester could be gotten around.”
“Shut up. You don’t know anything. It’s all bluff.”
“Well, if it is, why don’t you throw me out instead of taking it out on that ball-point pen.” Ward looked down at his hands. Two halves of the pen he was holding would never fit together again. Blue ink stained the heel of his right hand. He looked at his hand like it belonged to somebody else. In a moment, he shot a look at me. He had recovered and was going to counterattack.
“You don’t know very much, do you? Not when it comes to courts of law and proof. You don’t have anything with much weight.”
“Two men are dead, that should raise some eyebrows.”
“Chester killed himself. No eyebrows are being raised on that one.”
“That leaves Zekerman. He didn’t club himself to death. The most likely murderer would come from among his patients. You were one of his patients. Did you kill him?” He shook his head, not disguising his affection for me very skilfully.
“No, I didn’t kill him. He was a greedy man, but a small one. It was easy to pay his greed out of petty cash. Why should I have dirtied my hands with Zekerman’s blood?” He gave a snort that was supposed to show contempt for my accusation and me all at once. I thought it was time to shift ground.
“Let’s change the subject. Tell me about Liz Tilford.” He blinked like I’d asked him if he’d seen any good movies lately.
“There’s nothing to tell. It was a private matter. She is an attractive, intelligent young woman. I hoped to be of help to her, getting her launched, getting her established.” He looked out of focus to me as I looked across the table at him, fuzzy at the edges, but I could see that he was directing all his attention at me. I was in focus. “What has Miss Tilford got to do with this anyway?”
“She’s disappeared, that’s all.”
“That’s a little dramatic. She left town, that’s not against the law. She’s in Toronto; I think she went to Toronto.”
“Did you have a fight?”
“You insist on implying that our relationship was of a personal nature. A man like you can’t understand …”
“Ward, it’s late, and I’m not that shockable. You’ve been seen together. It’s on the record, so include me out of your play-acting. Why did she leave town? What happened?”
“Nothing happened. She just went away.”
“You’re sure she isn’t buried out there in the sand-trap of the sixth hole, or wearing a cement overcoat at the bottom of the lake?”
“Liz? You’ve got to be joking. Why would anyone want to kill her? She didn’t know anything.”
“Interesting way to put it. Unlike the dear dead doctor. He made a business of knowing. In fact he didn’t know when to quit.”
“You’re kidding yourself if you think you can drag Zekerman into this. It won’t wash.”
“He didn’t think Chester was depressed. He was his shrink. If he was lying to me, what was his game?”
“So far you’re the one with the answers.”
“You said that you could pay off Zekerman out of petty cash. My guess is that that’s a lot of petty cash. He knew about Core Two. That’s just the start. He also knew about you and Myrna Yates.”
“You bastard!”
“Let me finish. I got to the potting shed ahead of your boys. I know about Switzerland. So don’t get your indignation in an uproar. That’s two things he knew, but there was a third. He knew about what happened at Secord University during your last year. He knew about Elizabeth Blake.”
Ward looked sunk. His mouth fell open. He didn’t shout at me, he didn’t even look angry. I could see him better now. The effects of the flask were wearing off. The fuzzy edge had been sanded away leaving an outline that was sharp enough for a portrait painter. I remembered the sandy hair from the funeral. It was the sort that turns gray without anyone noticing. His face looked boyish from a distance, but now, up close, I could see that these broad youthful lines were criss-crossed with thousands of small wrinkles. His blue eyes looked out from under heavy brows, and there were signs around the chin that collapse of the firm jawline was only a matter of hours away. A minute slipped off the table. The ginger ale stopped bubbling.
“You know all about that?” he said finally.
“It’s all there if you know where the pieces are. I’ve been up to Secord. I’ve nosed around. I know about Elizabeth Blake, and I know Corso was in on it.” Ward nodded, like he was weighing an offer to purchase City Hall. Finally, he said:
“Corso made the stuff, you know. Chester and I stayed clear of that.”
“But there was more than just making.”
“He was a good chemist. But it was all Chester and I could do to handle him.”
“Where did the Blake girl fit in?”
“She bought some of the stuff we were distributing on the campus. She got into us early. She wasn’t an addict, just interested in the experience-bending aspects of L.S.D. She wasn’t a thrill-seeker, like some of the them. She found out that Corso was making it in one of the labs. At first we thought that she wanted to shut us down. But no, she wanted to find more ways to change perceptions. I called her the Mad Redhead. She had a strange intensity. She and Corso were working on variations, and she was his eager guinea-pig. One night, something went wrong. Joe called us. It was a terrible night. A blizzard was going on outside. She didn’t come down. She raved for hours and then collapsed. At first we thought that she would come out of it. But there was something funny about her breathing. Her eyes were open. We were scared. Corso went to pieces, so Chester and I carried her back to her room through the snow. It was well past one o’clock.
“There was no one around in that weather, but if anyone saw us, it must have looked like we were helping a drunk. We tucked her into bed, and as an afterthought, I emptied a phial of sleeping pills I found on her table into my pocket and left it empty by her bed. Then we got away as quickly as we could. I figured that if she woke up, the empty pill-container wouldn’t mean anything; if she didn’t wake up, we needed a smokescreen. Nothing like this had ever happened to us before. We both came from good families. Our parents were a respected part of the community.”