Killer Karma

18

Razor was right, of course. Pitfalls and obstacles littered the plan. Foremost: he had no control over his subjects’ access to each other. Unlike suspects in custody, they were free to communicate and straighten out conflicts and misunderstandings he tried to set up. And anything that betrayed his immateriality — running out of steam and evaporating before one of them, letting them try touching him — would shoot him down. Ditto if the original walked in on one of his impersonations. This needed careful planning.

He knew where to start, though. With Irah. He doubted she would crack easily, but coming eyeball to bloody eyeball with her victims ought to shake her up.

He made a trial run to locate Irah and found her working at her computer. Quickly, Cole sent himself to the Embarcadero…and while collecting heat from the vehicles there, kept his fingers crossed that Irah stayed put.

When he returned to her office, to his relief, she had gone no farther than the shelving, where she stood thumbing through a stack of Security Management issues. Cole grinned. Perfect.

Quickly, he moved through the desk and arranged himself in the chair with arms dangling limp, head thrown back with jaw gaping slack and eyes fixed blindly on the ceiling. The right eye anyway. Guessing at the bullet trajectory, he visualized the exit wound as a gaping hole taking out his left eye and surrounding bone, with blood covering his face and running down the side of his head to soak the backrest of her chair. Imagining his body like this felt creepy. He hoped it hit her that way, too.

As he drew on the accumulated heat energy, willing materialization of the bloody body, global vision let him watch her without taking his gaze off the ceiling. The feel of weight came just in time. She pulled one magazine out of the stack and turned around. Cole waited with grim glee for her reaction.

Her attention was on the magazine. She flipped pages on her way back to the desk, never looking up.

He gave a long, quavering moan. “Iraaah…”

She turned a page.

He swore. Shades of that parking attendant. “Irah, you bitch, look at me!”

She neither glanced at him nor broke her stride in coming around the desk. Where, as he sat frozen in disbelief, she dropped into the chair.

The static buzz of their contact shattered Cole’s paralysis. “Son of a bitch!” Shuddering with revulsion, he sprang free of her and through the desk.

Behind him, he saw her start, too, then shiver and run her hands down the arms of the chair. After a few moments, though, she shrugged and pulled her chair up to the desk, where she spread the magazine open on her blotter.

Cole swore in dismay. Ghost blind! Damn! That meant he had to work everything through Flaxx and Lamper. Were they going to be enough?

He set his jaw. If they saw him, he would make them enough!

If they saw him.

He needed more energy to check that out. Before zipping down to the Embarcadero, though, he better make sure Flaxx was there, and absorb the feel of the office’s location. And why not take a shortcut there. Considering the suite floor plan, Cole guessed that the wall behind Irah’s shelving separated her from Flaxx’s private washroom and his built-in bar.

Closing his eyes, Cole walked forward into the shelving and kept going until he estimated he had cleared the washroom. A good guess, he found on opening his eyes. He stood in the office. Also nearly two feet above the carpet.

While looking around, adding the office to his internal map, he stepped down to the floor. At the same time, he frowned at Flaxx, who sat reading some papers and looking smug. The expression hit Cole like fingernails scraping a blackboard. What a pleasure it would be to shatter that self-satisfaction. First, though, Flaxx had to know Cole Dunavan was dead.

The question was how to go about it. He doubted he could have “Irah” to come in and announce: “Hey, big brother; guess what I’ve been up to.” Carrying off impersonations these people needed believable behavior.

Flaxx pushed away from the desk headed into the washroom, closing the door behind him.

Cole stared at it, reminded of his fire rescue. The old woman heard him through her own bathroom door before he ever materialized. If Flaxx did, too, then the materializations certainly ought to work on him. And if Flaxx heard him, why not start the show right now? With a psychological flash-bang.

Mind racing, he stepped over to the door and listened. Sweet. He had caught Flaxx with his pants down. He pulled in some room heat to give his voice more substance. “Yo, Donald! How are things moving today?”

Inside, Flaxx called back, “Who’s that?”

He heard! Cole grinned. Let the fun begin. He had no trouble putting acid in his voice. “It’s Specter Dunavan, asshole. I’m hurt that as long as we’ve known each other, you don’t recognize my voice.”

“How the hell did you get in here?” Cole almost heard blood pressure rising. “I’m calling Security.”

Excellent. “Yeah, I guess you would have a phone in there. Got to stay in touch 24/7, right?” He listened to Flaxx pick up the receiver. “Except you’re not as in touch as you think. You need to keep a closer eye on your Asset Manager. Little sister has been up to more than burglary and torching stores in her Kijurian disguise, and more murder than the firefighter’s death.”

The phone banged into its cradle. That meant he had just seconds before Farrell arrived.

“Thank you, Dunavan. I’m taking those accusation to Citizens Complaints…and you’ll be hearing from my lawyers. You’re finished…in such deep shit you’ll never get out!”

Cole grinned. “Oh, I’m finished all right, but you’re the one in deep shit. Irah murdered the bookkeeper, Sara Benay. Suffocated her down in the parking garage. And we can make you an accessory. Have a nice day.”

From inside came a satisfyingly shocked gasp, but before Flaxx could respond further, the door of the office crashed open and Antoine Farrell rushed in, followed by Flaxx’s secretary.

The two plowed to a halt, eyes scanning the office. Farrell’s shaved scalp furrowed. “Where’d he go, Mr. Flaxx?”

Flaxx called back, “What do you mean, where’d he go?”

Farrell came over to the door. “There’s no one here.”

Flaxx barreled out, still buckling his belt. He stared around. “That’s impossible. He was talking to me just a second before I heard you come in.” His eyes narrowed as he eyed the office door. “Dunavan must have heard you coming, too, and stepped behind the door when it opened. Then he left while your attention was on this door.”

Farrell ran from the office.

Flaxx scowled at Katherine Maldonado. “How did he get in here?”

She stiffened at the accusation in his voice. “I don’t know. No one’s come past me.”

His scowl deepened. “He had to. You must have turned your back.”

“Not for more than a moment, not long enough to- ”

Flaxx stalked out of the office and up the hallway.

She followed as far as her desk and dropped into her chair with a hiss of exasperation.

Cole trailed along while Flaxx peered into one office after another, asking, “Did any of you see a tall, lanky guy heading toward my office or running away from it?”

Blank looks and head shakes answered him.

When they reached the reception area, they found Farrell there with Gina…who glanced up anxiously toward the security camera. “Have I seen Inspector Dunavan today?”

Cole kicked himself for that materialization. No one was likely to ask her about seeing him, huh? Now he either had a credible witness saying he seemed alive and well or she lied, as he asked her to, and risked losing her job. He was making trouble for one woman after another.

“It’s a simple question,” Flaxx snapped. “He was in my office. I want to know how he got in.”

Gina stiffened. “Not past me, Mr. Flaxx. I would have called you if he tried that. You can see for yourself on the tape.”

Cole blew her a kiss. “Great answer.” Of course, she thought the tape would show him come in and leave.

Flaxx and Farrell headed back down the hallway. Flaxx said, “Yes, check your tapes. Maybe he found a way to come in by the emergency exit. Then save the tape that has him on it so I can use it to file a complaint against him. I’ll check back with you in a few minutes.”

Flaxx left him and strode back down the hallway. Angling toward the side away from his office door. Did that mean he was headed for the Irah’s office? Yes. They turned into the side hall.

Flaxx pushed open the door without knocking and slammed it behind him. “So much for your claims of Dunavan never being a problem again.”

She turned from her computer, eyebrows arching. “What do you mean?”

He planted his hands on her desk. “I mean he was just in my office.”

“Dunavan?” Irah snorted. “That’s impossible.”

If Cole needed more proof that she killed him, the flat certainty in her voice gave it to him. Now give me something for Hamada.

“I wish.” Flaxx leaned over the desk. “This time he wasn’t even bothering to just insinuate things. He accused us outright of the burglaries and arson, and you of murdering what’s-her-name, the bookkeeper he was screwing…and claimed I’m an accessory.”

She froze for a moment and her heart jumped, then her eyes narrowed. “Dunavan was in your office?” Her tone doubted him.

Big brother should love that, Cole mused.

Flaxx’s voice hardened. “I know his voice.”

Irah sat up straighter. “Voice. You didn’t see him?”

“He came in while I was in the washroom,” Flaxx snapped. “I had the door closed. He mouthed off at me through it.”

“Oh.” Irah settled back in her chair. “You’re sure it was him…even though he’d have to get past Gina and Katherine, and Gina has orders to call you when any cop shows up?”

Flaxx flushed. “I’m thinking he found a way in through the emergency exit, and left that way, too. Farrell’s checking the tape now.”

“I promise you it wasn’t Dunavan,” Irah said. “So we don’t know who we’re looking for.” She picked up the phone and punched an in-house number. “Antoine, what are you seeing on the security tapes? … Is there anyone unknown on them who’s left in the last few minutes? … Terrific, but before you run that one, check all your monitors for an intruder. Check the supply room.” She waited, drumming her fingers, and a minute later she said, “I see. Well, you keep watching and I’ll get back to you.” Hanging up, she stood. “Donald, do me a favor. Stand in the doorway and watch for anyone trying to reach the emergency exit. I’ll be right back.”

Cole followed while she looked into the break room and marched into both the men’s and women’s restrooms and checked each stall. After leaving the men’s room, she leaned into the Security office. “Any sign of someone hiding or trying to sneak out?”

Farrell shook his head. “Nope.”

She smiled. “I thought not. Thanks. You can relax now. You’re not going to see any intruders.”

Back at her office, Flaxx still stood in the doorway. “Well?”

“The tapes don’t show anyone leaving.” She closed the door. “And there’s no outsider visible in the suite.”

Flaxx frowned. “Then what the hell happened to him?”

She sat down, looking thoughtful. “That’s obvious enough. The question is who he is. There’s one possibility that comes to mind.”

“Who!”

Irah shook her head. “I can’t imagine why he’d do it, or how he knew… Don’t worry,” she said as Flaxx’s mouth thinned, “once I know for certain, I’ll give him to you.”

Flaxx eyed her for a few more moments, then grunted. “Make it quick.” He turned toward the door.

What a piece of work Irah was, Cole reflected. She had completely sidetracked him from the subject of Sara’s murder.

He moved up to Flaxx’s ear.“Why should this character accuse Irah of killing that bookkeeper?” he whispered.

Flaxx hesitated just a second before he continued reaching for the doorknob.

Indicating he heard something. Cole tried again. “Why is she ignoring that and not denying it? That’s suspicious.”

Flaxx paused with his hand on the knob.

Cole kept whispering. “Is it possible the guy outside the washroom wasn’t lying?” He had a thought. Could he pass as an inner voice? “I have to know. I can’t afford more cops digging around if that bookkeeper turns up dead.”

The shot hit home. Flaxx wheeled and walked back to the desk. “Why did Dunavan accuse you of killing the bookkeeper? Aren’t you upset by that?”

She looked up wide-eyed. “An accusation delivered anonymously through a door? No.”

A lie. It did worry her, Cole noted with satisfaction. He heard tension in her voice. Flaxx was relaxing, though. He obviously bought the innocent stare.

Education time, asshole. “Shouldn’t she have said she isn’t upset because she’s not guilty? Damn. She’s dodging my question.” Cole whispered. “I can’t let her get away with that! Let’s see how she reacts to hearing how he said she killed the woman.”

Flaxx scowled at her. “He said you suffocated the woman in the parking garage.”

Irah’s pupils dilated and her heart rate jumped. For a split second Cole also saw shock in her face. Then she regained control. Her expression turned mocking. “Suffocated in the garage by Colonel Mustard using the velvet pillow? I can’t believe you’re buying this guy.”

Cole whispered, “Why won’t you won’t give me a straight answer? Is what Dunavan said bullshit or the truth…yes or no?”

Flaxx parroted the words, then slapped a hand on the desk and finished on his own. “That woman’s linked to this company and if she turns up dead Dunavan will- ”

“He won’t do anything,” Irah said. “He’s history. Don’t worry about Benay turning up dead either. Trust me.”

“Trust you.” Flaxx grimaced. “Trusting you has gotten me involved in burglary and arson. I don’t want it to be murder, too.”

Cole ground his teeth. Shit! If only he could be wearing a wire!

“I don’t know why I listened to you.”

She gave him a razor smile. “Because I offered you a chance to make more money and you love waving profit figures in front of Daddy. I’ve delivered what I promised, right? So listen to me again. Neither Dunavan nor Benay is going to pop up. I guarantee it.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Never mind. Per your often stated preference, you have results without being bothered about the details of execution.”

She drew out the final word, her inflection savoring it.

Flaxx stiffened. He stepped back from the desk, staring at her in disbelief. “Oh my god. You did kill the woman.”

Irah’s eyes measured him for a moment, then she shrugged. “Yes.”

Rage hit Cole in an incandescent bolt. A rage fueled in part, he realized, by his own guilt. One word, delivered so casually, as if it meant nothing, destroyed the last hope that he might redeem himself by finding Sara still alive somewhere…and indicted him for sacrificing her to his obsession.

He bared his teeth. Now taking down Sara’s killer was all he could do for her. “And I will take you down for it, Irah, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Now…as long as you insist on being given knowledge of a capital crime,” Irah added, “you might as well know I killed Dunavan, too…also down in the garage.” She fired a finger gun at Flaxx.

Cole swore. If only he could be recording this!

Flaxx choked. He stared at Irah in horror…then took a deep breath and asked casually, “What made you decide to do that?”

Despite his apparent calm, the air felt supercharged. Current ran down Cole’s spine. Irah eyed her brother warily.

Before she could answer, he continued, “Did you ever consider…” His voice suddenly hardened. “…first discussing it with me!” His fist slammed down on the desk.

Irah jumped. “There wasn’t time to ask.”

New fury boiled up in Cole. Irah killed two people, but what upset Flaxx was not having the chance to approve it? “You’re as twisted as she is.” He was going to love working them over!

“But Dunavan’s a cop.” Flaxx leaned on the desk toward her. “A fucking cop.”

She gave him wide eyes again. “I didn’t have a choice. Dunavan had Benay checking all of Earl’s accounts that Gao assigned her and she saw the correlation between Earl taking over accounts and stores being burglarized. My spy cameras caught- ”

“What spy cameras?” Flaxx asked.

Something Cole wanted to know, too.

Irah smiled. “Little self-contained units I planted. They broadcast to a TV type receiver. Installation just takes a ladder and a few minutes. They’ve been very useful for checking out target stores in setting up the jobs.” She settled back in her chair. “I thought we’d be smart to watch whoever worked on Earl’s accounts. So when Benay stayed late, I did, too…which is how I caught her leaving a phone message saying she’d found incriminating evidence in the files. After a little scuffle to take away the phone…” She touched the bruise on her cheek. “…I found out she called Dunavan. When I hit Redial, the number offered to connect me to his voice mail.”

“Jesus H. Christ.” Flaxx straightened, shaking his head in disgust. “So she found something. That’s no reason to kill anyone. You should have called me. Screwing around with Dunavan makes all that inadmissable in court. Plus we could have bought her off and made things very hot for Dunavan. Maybe lost him his badge.”

Exactly what Cole would expect of Flaxx.

Irah sighed. “Unfortunately, by the time I learned what she knew, and about her relationship with Dunavan, there was no way to buy her off, at any price.”

Cole heard no regret in her voice. He remembered the fear in Sara’s.

Flaxx frowned. “Why not?”

Irah shrugged. “Persuading her to talk got…intense. I had to hold the bitch’s head in a toiled until she almost drowned.”

Which she enjoyed doing, it sounded like to Cole. Guilt choked him, imagining how Sara must have felt, the panic, tearing at Irah’s wrists as she fought to come up for air…panic that was just a prelude to her later terror, when cloth or tape replaced water to suffocate her. Without him, Sara would never have been in that position.

“The toilet!” Flaxx recoiled. “That’s disgusting!”

Irah smiled. “Not at all. You know how a sharp deal makes you feel? That’s nothing compared to the rush of- ” She shook head. “Never mind. The point is she took the dunking personally. I made the mistake of turning my back on her to call you — because I did suggest compensation, after explaining why her information would never make it to court — and the bitch grabbed me from behind in a choke hold. ‘Let’s call the police instead,’ she said. ‘I’ll bet I can take assault and battery to court. And don’t even dream you can “compensate” me enough to drop the charges. Nothing will give me more pleasure than telling Inspector Dunavan and your insurance companies all about why you attacked me. Don’t forget that firefighter’s death is considered murder.’”

Cole groaned. He admired Sara’s guts…but it would have been smarter to play along with Irah until she got clear. Irah obviously took the situation personally, too. Killing Sara the way she did now sounded like retaliation.

“Breaking the choke hold was no problem, of course, but it did mean roughing her up some more, which only made her attitude shittier. When I took her to your office- ”

“My office!” Flaxx stiffened in indignation. “Wasn’t it locked?”

Irah rolled her eyes.

He grimaced. “Of course…how stupid of me. You picked the lock.”

Not likely, Cole reflected. That took two hands and she had to hang on to Sara. She must have a key. More knowledge she withheld from big brother. Well, well.

“Why take her to my office?”

“Because you have a bar. I needed your Jack Daniels — and don’t have a cow; I’ve already replaced the bottle and you never noticed. I needed to calm her down and slow any attempt at escape while I decided what to do with her. Though of course I told her I was getting her drunk so if she tried calling the police after I took her home, they weren’t going to believe someone they could practically breathalyze over the phone.”

No wonder Sara sounded drunk. In spite of that, when Irah stepped out of the room for some reason, Sara used the chance to call him again. A gutsy, gutsy lady. A wave of regret joined the anger and guilt in Cole. Too bad he never had the chance to really know her.

“I said that in the morning she’d see it was more profitable to deal with you than the police and court and our lawyers.”

Flaxx nodded. “That’s reasonable, and she might- ”

“No, Donald.” Irah spoke in the measured tone of someone explaining to a child. “She’d have done exactly what I would, called the police as soon as she got home, drunk or not. And…” Irah’s eyes flashed. “…there’s no way in hell that am I going to jail!”

Flaxx eyed her for several seconds, then shook his head. “But why kill Dunavan, too?”

“Let’s say it’s because he’s been a royal pain in the ass! Even though he couldn’t use anything Benay found, knowing for sure that evidence was there, he’d find a way to get it. I told you, there’s no way I’m going to jail.”

Flaxx groaned. “A cop. Fuck!”

She shrugged. “It couldn’t have gone slicker. He thought he was coming to Benay’s rescue. I made sure no one seeing me could identify me later. Between the liquor hitting Benay and her believing I planned to drive her home…as soon as I went back to the office for a minute… it was safe to leave her sitting in my car. I put on some thrift store clothes I keep in my trunk for quick disguises and went and did Dunavan.” She fired the finger gun at Flaxx again. “Then I drove my car over by Dunavan’s, put Benay in his trunk, and did her. After that, I drove their bodies away…to where…” she finished, with a ta-da spread of her hands, “…they will never be found.”

Did him, did Sara. As though, Cole reflected bitterly, she were talking about making phone calls. The gleam in her eyes and savoring tone in her voice belied the casual words. She enjoyed killing them. Her photographs screamed adrenaline junkie. And the rush from murder had to surpass all others. Risk enhanced it…leaving Sara in her car, shooting him without a silencer, taking the chance of someone hearing Sara’s agonal struggles in his trunk, not to mention driving across town with a dead body taped upright in the passenger seat.

Flaxx’s lips thinned. “Maybe they’ll never be found, but the other cops are going to keep digging, looking for him. What’s funny?”

Irah bit off her smile. “Nothing. Chill out. We aren’t going to be suspects. Dunavan won’t have told anyone about Benay. He couldn’t afford to if he hoped to use her information in court.”

“He damn well talked to someone. You said you have an idea who was outside the washroom. Tell me…right now.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Be careful what you ask. You might not like the answer.”

His lips thinned still more. “I’m not in the mood for fucking games. If you know a name, I want it!”

She hesitated, then sat forward, lacing her hands on top of her desk. “I don’t know, not for certain. I do know your joker works here.”

“What!” Flaxx scowled at her.

Her brows rose. “How else could he disappear so fast. It’s because he’s someone we expect to see around. It also has to be someone who knows about the burglaries and Kijurian.”

“But that’s only- ” Flaxx broke off, his eyes narrowing. “You’re thinking of Earl? Ridiculous!”

Cole grinned. Things might shake up more than he thought.

Flaxx snorted. “That voice was nothing like his and Earl doesn’t take a dump without asking for my approval. I own him.”

She shrugged. “Maybe arranging to save a nerd’s butt then thrill him with membership in you’re a-list clique doesn’t buy you a worshiper for life after all.”

“Arranging!” Flaxx flushed. “I never- ”

“Oh, of course.” She sat back in her chair. “My mistake. Forgive me.”

The rescue had been a setup? Cole felt his ears prick. Then it made sense. He filed the information away under “Ammunition.”

“Even without our friendship, what I pay him in salary and bonuses earns his loyalty.”

“Maybe Earl’s losing his nerve. He did freak out about the firefighter being killed.”

Really. Cole filed that fact away, too.

“He was in the hospital on Wednesday.” Flaxx said. “There’s no way he could know anything that happened then.”

She nodded. “You’d think so. But…who else fits?”

Flaxx’s jaw tightened. “Stick up your little spy cameras and find out.” He straightened and moved toward the door. “When you do learn who it was, you will come and tell me immediately, is that clear? Then I will decide what to do about him!”

Irah smiled. “Right. Absolutely.”

Once the door closed behind Flaxx, the smile became a grimace. “‘I will decide what to do about him,’” she repeated mockingly. Dragging a legal pad on the desk to her, she wrote Lamper’s name…circled it…glanced across the room at the surfboard photograph. “It’s got to be Earl, lover…but…how? Did Dunavan get to him as well as Benay? Does Earl have a stooge of his own watching me? And why would he pull that stunt? What’s he figuring to get out of it?” She circled the name one more time and threw down the pen. “If it’s him, I expect he’ll let us know soon enough.”

Cole grinned. This just might work. “Irah, I can’t take your twisted ass off the street fast enough but, honey, I certainly appreciate the help you’ve given the cause here.” He blew her a kiss. “Happy paranoia.”