The Last Day

FORTY-FOUR

Security in the downtown condo complex was hardly more than a showy illusion designed to make the owners feel secure and intimidate amateurs. Only the cameras in the lobby, the elevator cabins, and the main hallways were monitored by staff security. Watcher overrode the alarm on the fire door and fried the circuits in that camera without worrying it would be discovered anytime soon.

Watcher wasn't even breathing hard after climbing twenty- three floors of stairs. Once in the service hall, he slipped to the rear door that opened into the kitchen of Trey Dibble's penthouse. The expensive and complicated lock on the steel security door slowed Watcher less than ten seconds. Once inside, he heard the voices of two men radiating from the living room. Watcher moved to the door and listened.

“The FBI saw me earlier this morning. I figured they'd come see you.”

“Well, why didn't you call and warn me?” Trey whined.

“I told them to check you out,” Flash said. “If you did have anything to do with that virus, you're going to prison with my blessings.”

“I have to have the six hundred thousand today,” a third voice chimed in.

This voice reflected some anger, but that was covered over by fear.

“As I said before, Mark, I will advance it to you in a personal transaction. But the deal has to go through. That's a lot of money.”

“You'll get it back,” Mark Wilson said.

“Ward is not going to sell to me,” Flash said. “But if you say you can make it happen, I believe you, Mark. You're both a horse trader and his uncle. And you know better than to try to screw me.”

“He'll sell,” Mark said. “He's in a box, thanks to your son.”

“Thanks to me?” Trey snapped.

“That fucking virus. What were you thinking?” Mark demanded. “We all know that was your doing.”

“Me?” Trey asked. “I didn't have anything to do with it!”

Flash said, “In my son's sole defense, he isn't that imaginative.”

“He could have paid somebody who is,” Mark said. “Who else could have had any reason to pull that shit?”

“The FBI is convinced Ward did it,” Flash said. “I told them I didn't believe it for a minute, and I don't. This will blow over and they will catch the mentally challenged person who did it.”

“I bet Ward did do it,” Trey said. “Why would anybody else? It's a friggin dumb- ass move, and unproductive for our benefit.”

“If you did this, I'll turn you in myself,” Flash repeated. “Mark, I want RGI, and if I don't get it, I have friends who will collect the six hundred thousand. Do we understand each other? If Ward finds out the six hundred thousand is missing, how are you going to get it back into the bank without admitting what you did? What are you going to tell him?”

“I'll explain that I borrowed it for an emergency and I'm paying it back,” Mark said. “He'll be pissed, but he is my nephew. He knows I love him.”

“Remember that stock is worthless, due to adverse public opinion,” Trey said. “RGI's reputation is total shit. I think we should cut our offer in half.”

“Our offer?” Flash laughed mirthlessly. “How much of your money is on the table here? This is my money we're talking about. Until you have some money that isn't mine to put in, keep your damned business advice to yourself. Mark, three months and I expect repayment in full. I have a certified check in my pocket, and a promissory note form. You sign and you can walk over to the bank to cover your problem.”

As Watcher listened, he looked at the granite countertops, a bottle of cooking oil, and an idea formed in his mind.

Five minutes later, Flash and McCarty's uncle concluded their business and left the condominium together.

Watcher waited a few seconds before he strolled into the living room.

Trey sat on the couch sucking on a lit joint, which he held in his chubby fingers like a cigarette. He wore a Speedo, his jewelry, and nothing else.

“Trey,” Watcher said.

The joint flew into the air and Trey twisted on the couch to look back over his shoulder at Watcher.

“FUCK!” Trey blurted. “How did you get in here? You scared the shit out of me. I thought the goddamned FBI had circled back.” He slid off the couch and rushed to the joint smoldering on the thick area rug. Lifting it up, he smashed the place where it had been with the sole of his foot.

“The back door was standing open.”

“Fucking Tami.” Trey snorted. “She took the trash out and the dumb- ass whore forgot to lock it.”

“Where's she now?”

“The FBI said they wanted to talk to me so I sent her out to Belk to look at shoes and told her to stay out for an hour. Then Daddy called and said Mark Wilson was outside and they were going to meet up here. I told him the FBI was here, and he said to call when they left and he'd have Mark wait in the restaurant across the street and to call when they left. Hell, Daddy sent them here to bust my balls.”

Trey winked. “I told them the opposite of what Daddy did. He said Ward was no way a pervert.” Trey laughed in a nervous burst. “I told them Ward was light in the loafers.”

Watcher nodded.

“The FBI is after McCarty and how. The virus thing was brilliant. But my dumb- ass old man isn't smart enough to offer less. Sometimes he amazes me. Business is business, and I'm sure as hell not going to let anything color my judgment when I take over.”

“All tooth and claw,” Watcher said. “You're twice the businessman your old man is. You'll do what has to be done.”

Trey hit the joint again. “Tooth and claw. I like that. So can we trust your computer genius to keep his pie- hole shut?”

“His lips are sealed.”

“My old man better never find out I was involved. I swore to God I wasn't. This geek. How can you be sure he won't turn on you? The FBI told me their lab techs can trace the guy who did it.”

“They may track him down. But he'll never tell them anything.”

“How can you be sure he'll do time without turning on you?”

“Because he's left the country,” Watcher lied, smiling. “You paid me to be thorough.”

“Best fifty grand I ever spent. You handled the situation. We get RGI and I don't need to know any more than that. That's all. Maybe if you get popped, you'll trade up for me. Believe me, I've thought about it. Maybe you should have killed the geek, not sent him out of the country. He might come back.”

“I brought him over from Europe. He's French. Hates America. Uses aliases and doesn't know you exist. You paid me cash so there's no proof I've ever done anything for you. That gives you total deniability The only way you'd be connected to the geek is if the FBI found his business card on you and a phone that's linked to one he had.” Watcher smiled at Trey.

Trey smiled back and pointed with the smoking joint. “That's why I hired you. A man shows up with a plan, you listen, and if it makes sense, you bite. This deal is about done, and I'm so happy with the virus that I'm gonna give you a retainer as a consultant when we get RGI. The virus was a great idea, even if it was yours.”

“I'm not doing this for money, Trey.”

“What you doing it for, the kicks?” Trey asked, offering Watcher the joint.

He shook his head and said, “It's more complex. It was in my best interest to drop Ward McCarty.”

“Whatever,” Trey said, disinterested. “No more needs to be said. He's a spoiled prick. Not like he worked to build that company. He inherited it. Okay, you get what you want and so do I. I like what you do, and I want you watching my back here on out and helping me climb up the ladder tooth and claw. Just remember, you don't ever tell me nothing more about how you work the miracles I need. Next we deal with my old man,” Trey said, winking. “If the old guy needs to go for a swim, you up for hard- core?”

“Tooth and claw,” Watcher said. “I'm going to go. You should lock the door behind me.”

Trey took a hit from the joint and followed Watcher through the door. He didn't notice the bottle of cooking oil lying on its side on the counter or that the contents had pooled on the terrazzo floor until his feet went out from under him. Trey's last thought was probably that Watcher was grabbing him to keep him from falling, not in order to guide the back of his head into the sharp edge of the granite countertop as he fell.

After Watcher checked for Trey Dibble's pulse, and didn't find one, he looked at the pad by the telephone. He pressed Dibble's prints onto it, and placed Bert's business card under it so it was barely covered and the cops would have to try not to see it there. There was just one more connection to Bert that Watcher had to handle.

Going back into the living room, Watcher placed his disposable cell phone between the cushions of the couch. It was the phone he'd used exclusively to talk to Bert Marmaduke over the past three weeks. On the way out of the kitchen, Watcher took the plastic bag containing the knife he'd used on old Bert from his pocket, and dropped just the knife into the garbage can, making a loud metallic noise when it hit the bottom.

Just as he was closing the door, he heard the front door open and close. He left, and was opening the stairwell door when he heard Tami Waterman's scream.