The living room in Farmington Hills looked pretty much the same: red candles blushing in green holders, the cardinal painted on a glass lit from inside, the lamp splashing light straight up onto the ceiling. Still no tree. Today she’d tied back the drapes on the big window to show off a neighborhood in monochrome: white drifts, naked black branches, a sky the color of granite. The clouds were pregnant with more snow.
“So it’s McBride again,” I said.
Karen nodded, smiling over her drink. “I didn’t think you’d miss the name on the mailbox. I had it painted over the day after I got the news about Guy. Does that make me hard-hearted?”
“No. That doesn’t.”
We were seated as before, the sling chair for her, the gray love seat for me, with the glossy coffee table separating us like a black lagoon. It might have been last week all over again, except this time I’d turned down her offer of a drink. I didn’t plan to be there long enough to finish it. At that it seemed as if the world had gone all the way around the sun since I’d been there last.
She was wearing another pair of ritzy pajamas, this one the pale yellow of watery lemonade, with a gauzy white scarf coiled loosely around her neck. The scarf showed off her Miami tan, the outfit her toned body. Her auburn-streaked hair spilled to her shoulders and her cheekbones had been designed to support her golden-brown eyes. Our generation doesn’t age the way our parents’ did. I was the exception. I felt as old as Stonehenge but a hell of a lot less stable.
“No more Mrs. Lennert,” I said. “The poor corrupt bastard. The governments in Washington and Ottawa erased him along with the case, and as far as the cops are concerned he never existed in the first place. He went away like frost on glass.”
“I am sorry, you know. I loved him once—I suppose. I always liked him. I couldn’t hate him even when he left me for a cheap blonde and a suitcase full of Chrysler’s cash. As wrong as it was he didn’t deserve a bullet from a punk killer.”
“Oh, you heard about that.”
“It was on the radio this morning. I guess the police were sitting on the details until they were sure.” She uncrossed her legs, leaned forward, and set down her glass. “You were there, weren’t you? They didn’t mention you, but I remembered your office is on Grand River.”
“I was there.”
“Amos, you really should retire. You’ve used up all your odds.”
“That’s old news. I’ve been free-falling since the day we met. I almost married you, you know.”
“I didn’t know; but I suspected. Why didn’t you?”
“Dumb luck. That was when I used up the last of my odds. In the long, long series of wrong turns I’ve made, that might have been the one that put me in a head-on collision with myself.”
She paled a shade under the tan. She sat with her feet flat on the floor and her hands clasped between her knees. A bitter smile tweaked the corners of her mouth. “That isn’t exactly flattering. I’d forgotten how plain-spoken you were. Now that I think about it, that’s the reason we broke up.”
“On your part, maybe. On mine it was instinct. Not that I’m psychic: It never occurred to me you were the kind to pay someone to kill your husband. I’m not even sure if that’s what disappointed me the most. It was the dipsy-doodle. You sent Macklin—Peter, not Roger—after Lennert, then you hired me. If we got there in a tie and I killed Macklin, the only witness to the deal was no longer a threat. If we missed each other, or if he killed me, he’d be free to fetch back the money Lennert stole.”
Her laugh was a short bark. “When did all this come to you, in the middle of a drunk?”
“I can’t claim credit for all of it. I worked out the part about you throwing one or the other of us under the bus. The part about you hiring Macklin and telling him to bring back the cash if possible—that I got from the horse’s mouth.”
I shook my head. “It was a smart plan; the kind that outsmarts itself. All I did was get spotted and tagged for a threat. So Macklin did the prudent thing and ducked out as soon as the job was done, leaving the money behind. Only there wasn’t any money in the room, or anywhere else anyone looked. Guy probably wired it somewhere, like I said, only you didn’t believe me, and memorized the account number. His girlfriend played dumb. It wasn’t a stretch.”
“All that money sitting where it’ll never be claimed. What a waste.” She sat back again with her drink, recrossed her legs, and tapped her nails against the glass. She was in control of the situation now. “What’s your evidence? The testimony of a known murderer?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time one of them traded his client for a get-out-of-jail card. It’s rare; I was telling a woman that just the other day. You wouldn’t know her. She’s a lady. It’s rare, and it won’t happen this time either. Even if he were to take the chance, the cops wouldn’t accept it. Too much pressure has been brought to bear from too many places to make them reboot the official story at this point.”
I stood. I hadn’t bothered to unbutton my coat. I hadn’t intended to stay even this long.
“No, Karen, I’ve got nothing. Just a nodding acquaintance with someone who shares my theory about your plans for Macklin, and that’s the man himself. He isn’t as likely as the authorities to let a sleeping dog lie, because it’s bad for business and comes with the risk that the dog might wake up and take another bite at him. He told me himself we have something in common. Now I know we’ve got more than one. We’ve both used up all our odds. If he expects to keep playing he’ll have to load the dice. Give him my regards when he shows up.”
I showed myself out. When I got into my car I saw her through the window, still seated in the same position, turning her glass around and around between her hands. I’d spoiled Christmas for her. What a Grinch.