The Last Day

FIFTY-EIGHT

When Gene Duncan called, Ward was watching the news as a commentator said that the RGI virus was designed by a thirty- yearold Charlotte resident named Bert Marmaduke. The newscaster said that suspect Marmaduke had been murdered the evening before his body was found, but gave no cause of death, and made no mention of Trey Dibble's connection to the event. Ward was wondering if the media people refrained from mentioning Trey because Flash's advertising dollars kept the regional TV stations solvent. He figured it was just a matter of time.

Presently Trey's death was reported, as accidental. There were interviews with several NASCAR- involved individuals, whose comments were probably less than honest, each saying something on the order of what a unique individual Trey Dibble had been. Flash Dibble was reported to be in seclusion, and his assistant said that he and his wife wanted to thank everyone who had offered their prayers and consolation.

“You seen the news?” Gene asked.

“I have.”

“Flash called me,” Gene said. “He asked me to pass on his deep sorrow for his son's actions. He told me to tell you that he didn't have any idea about any of it. He still wants RGI and said he'd like to keep it just the way it is. He also mentioned that he might be open to a partnership involvement.”

“Jesus, Gene, he's still able to think about business?”

“What can I say?”

“Call him back. Tell him to work with you and get the deal drawn up for my signature. Tell him I'll stay through a reasonable transaction period, but maybe Unk would be open to something more permanent with him.”

“Did you just say what I thought you said?”

“Yes. The sooner the better. You can figure out how to spend your commission now. But the video game is not part of the sale.”

“I don't know why that would ever come up. He doesn't know about it.”

That was something Ward was no longer sure of. It was possible that his uncle had told Flash about the game, and that was why he wanted RGI so badly. It didn't matter, because if Flash backed out, Ward would continue to run RGI as he had before, and he'd keep Unk in place and pay Flash the six hundred thousand his uncle owed him. Ward wanted everybody happy because, for the first time in a year, he was.

Gene continued, “Oh, yeah, and the most amazing thing of all. Are you sitting down?”

“Yes, I am. Would you get to it?”

“Tom Wiggins told me to tell you there's no charge for his services.”

“That's very generous, but I want to pay him for his time.”

“He thought you'd say that. He said you could send a check for twelve hundred to his favorite charity.”

“The children's oncology center. Tell him it's as good as in their account.”

“I will. Okay, buddy. I'll call Flash and I'll get on the deal as soon as I hang up.”

“So, why are you still talking to me?” Ward clicked off the phone and tapped it on the back of the couch.

He looked up to see Natasha standing in the doorway. “That was Gene. He…”

Ward stopped because he knew Natasha wasn't hearing a word he said. She was staring at him, a look of horror on her face.

“What?” Ward asked. “Natasha?” He jumped up and ran across the room, taking her by the shoulders.

“Gizmo. I know who he is.”

“Who? How do you know him?”

“I killed him.”