The chiming of the bell was now accompanied by a heavy pounding and, as he opened the door, Hollander had his gun out and appeared to be on the verge of shooting the lock off. After one brief, surprised glance of recognition, he looked past him to where Jim sat slumped in the chair. He brushed by wordlessly, followed by two younger bland-faced agents. Dan, right behind them, stopped to grasp him by the shoulders.
“Thank God, you’re all right!” he muttered.
“Yes. I’m all right. But, how did you find out I was here?”
He closed the door and they followed the agents back into the other room. Dan started to open his mouth to answer, but closed it again without replying as he became absorbed in watching Hollander examine Jim.
“What’s the matter with him?” Hollander asked, straightening up and turning around.
“ He put something in his drink.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know, But it was slow acting and apparently painless. He just gradually lost consciousness.”
Hollander turned back to the two younger agents bracketing Jim’s chair.
“Fred. Call the hospital and tell them to get an ambulance out here with a stomach pump.” The one on the right moved toward the phone. “Go upstairs and see what you can find,” he told the other one, who then headed for the stairs.
“ Is he still alive then, Jack?” Dan asked him.
“I’m not sure, Dan,” Hollander replied. “I think he’s in a coma.” He looked down at his feet. “Is this his gun on the floor?”
Dan looked startled as he told him it was.
Hollander bent down and picked it up gingerly by the barrel. He sniffed the muzzle and checked the clip.
“Why didn’t he use it?” he asked.
“On himself, you mean?”
“Or you?”
“He didn’t want to kill me. He was more interested in killing himself.”
“But, you were the one responsible for breaking up his organization. I’d think he’d want some revenge for that.”
“He said he had been making plans to turn it over to somebody else, anyhow. I don’t think he cared about what had happened to the others that were in it with him.”
“Who was he going to turn it over to?”
“He didn’t say. But he hinted that it wasn’t an entirely voluntary decision.”
“What was he waiting for? He wasn’t under suspicion. He could have left anytime.”
“He was planning to.with Marie.before she was killed. Afterwards, he said there was no reason for him to leave. Closter and Bentley were the only members of the gang who had known of his involvement, and they were both dead. He didn’t anticipate Closter’s confession.”
“But, why kill himself? He didn’t even know what was in it.”
“That’s what I told him. But, I guess he did know, and didn’t see any point in waiting for us to find out. It does incriminate him, doesn’t it?”
Hollander nodded. “Yes. Although I doubt that it would have stood up in court.”
It was what he had feared, but it still surprised him. “Why not?”
“Lack of corroboration. It’s not like a deathbed statement. The letter he wrote telling you about it makes it pretty clear he was planning to try to escape. The judge might easily have decided he only wrote it to force Sloan to help him.”
So, Jim, quite possibly, might have gotten away with it-all of it-after all; and had killed himself for nothing. Or, had he? If he had really loved Marie, then maybe; after her death, or because of it; he had come to realize, and abhor, the enormity of his life, and had been only waiting for an excuse to end it. Perhaps he had even anticipated that; with the perversity of the current legal system; he might have gone unpunished-and so, had pronounced sentence on himself. In any event, he had done them all a favor and, in his own particular case, he had done more. He had; unknowingly, and in all probability, unwillingly; changed his life for the better. Because, the future that now stretched ahead of him with Elise to the horizon of their days, was a direct link to the road Jim had traveled. It was unfortunate that Marie had been the victim of the collision of their destinies but, he felt certain now that; if she had lived to go away with him; it would have been an even greater tragedy than that they had shared together.
“Then why rush out here at this time of night?” he asked Hollander.
“That’s what I started to explain before, Mark,” Dan cut in. “Jack, here, finally got the court order to open Closter’s post office box and called me when he got back to town late yesterday evening. We then got hold of the Postmaster-it took a while to locate him. He was at his in-laws for the holiday-and got the confession. When I saw who Closter had named as the ringleader, I thought he must have been out of his head when he wrote it. But, I also thought that you should know about it, and called the house to tell you. Grace told me you had taken Elise home and gave me her number. But, I told her I didn’t want to.disturb you, and just to tell you to call me when you got back. Well, I guess she must have realized it was more important than I had tried to pretend-especially since it was after midnight, by then-’cause it was only a few minutes later that Elise called me wantin’ to know why I had called you-and makin’ a pretty good guess at the answer.”
His brogue was becoming more apparent as his excitement mounted. “Jack had decided to wait until morning to arrest Jim. As you said, he had not made any attempt to get away up until then, and had no reason to think he was even under suspicion. But, when Elise told me how you and her and her father had all put yer heads together, and had already decided that he was the one we were after-and that you had already gone to face him with it-we decided we’d better get the hell out here as fast as we could.”
“Thanks, Dan,” he said as he finished. “I guess I’d better call Elise and let her know I’m all right.”
He started toward the phone. The young agent named Fred had finished his call to the hospital and was silently searching another part of the room.
“There’s no need,” Hollander said. “She’s outside in a car with one of my other men. We picked her up on the way. She probably saw you open the door, and knows you’re all right.”
He flushed with anger. “You brought her here not knowing whether or not I.”
Dan put his hand on his arm. “Take it easy, Mark. She said she would drive here herself, if we didn’t.”
The anger subsided as quickly as it had risen. “Sorry, I should’ve realized it wasn’t your decision, But, maybe I’d better not keep her waiting.”
He turned toward the foyer where Jim had hung his coat in the closet.
“Just a minute, Mr. Tuesday,” Hollander said behind him.
He stopped and faced him. “Yes. What is it?” he asked.
“What did Sloan tell you?”
“He admitted everything, including Closter’s murder.”
“Did he tell you where he kept the tapes and films that were made at Stanhope’s lodge?”
The question took him by surprise. He had never thought to ask about them, and realized he probably should have-especially when he knew Jim was dying. But, there had been other questions he had wanted answered-and even though he knew now that the answers had been disappointingly insignificant in comparison to the information that Hollander wanted, they would have haunted him for the rest of his life if he had not gotten them.
“I’m sorry. No. It never came up,” he told Hollander.
The FBI man studied him thoughtfully, a hint of exasperation whitening the outline of his compressed lips. “All right. I won’t ask you to go into detail now about what he did tell you. But, I’d like you to come to my office tomorrow and give us a full statement.”
“What time?” he asked.
Hollander hesitated and, surprisingly, grinned, “Why, at your convenience, Mr. Tuesday. What else?”
He grinned back at him. “Okay, Jack.” Hollander looked surprised at the use of his first name. “I’ll come to your office tomorrow, if you promise to come to my wedding on Saturday, with your wife and children, of course.”
Hollander’s surprise turned to more like amazement, and his grin widened, as he replied, “All right.. .Mark. Thanks for the invitation. I’ll call my wife in the morning and tell her to take the first plane back.”
They shook hands before he turned away and started toward the door. Dan, who had been hovering somewhat apprehensively in the background, came forward, smiling broadly. “Now, git yerself outa here and take the lass home,” he admonished him in his thickest brogue.”I’ll see ya t’morra at Jack’s office, and I’ll be dancin’ at yer weddin’ on Sattiday!”
Shrugging into his coat, he responded, “I’m glad there’s going to be a wedding for you to dance at.”
With his hand on the doorknob, he looked back and saw Hollander again staring down at
Jim’s comatose form, as if trying to will him to live until the ambulance got there-and, suddenly, he realized he no longer cared whether he did or not. A few hours ago; while driving over to confront Jim with the knowledge of his duplicity; it had seemed that his entire future-and, in particular, his future with Elise-had been inextricably entangled in the web of treachery, violence and deceit that had been woven around him by the events culminating in Marie’s death, and the final humiliation of the realization of Jim’s perfidy. He had deemed it imperative to any chance of life with Elise to learn, and understand, the truth behind his dead wife’s alienation, her eventual betrayal, and her inexplicable failure to make sure that he received Sally’s warning. And, now that it was all over-and despite everything else he had learned, or been told during the conversation with Jim-he knew he was no closer to the real answers to the mysteries of Marie’s life than he had been before he knew her, married her, impregnated her and, finally, buried her.
But, he did know-at last, and with a blinding clarity that forever freed him from the last vestiges of regret, remorse and self-recrimination-that it did not matter, that it had never mattered. Because, the moving finger had written the final episode of Marie’s life, and the truth that had lived within her now resided with her-in the grave or beyond-where all truth and falsity, innocence and guilt, hope and despair was immutable and irrefutable; and where justice was dispensed and prevailed impartially, universally and eternally. And, if there was a beyond, he hoped she had found the peace, and contentment, and love that had eluded her in life.
As for his own life-however much was left of it-the words were even now beginning to be formed for the start of the next chapter. And, unlike all those in the past that had gone undeciphered or whose message had been ignored or neglected; he also knew that it was no longer possible for him to simply wait to try to interpret their meaning after the ink had dried. They had to be lived, even as the finger still moved, to be fully understood and to provide understanding. For, in the end, the truth of the past and the hope of the future, had not been buried with Marie, but was alive and well, and living within himself and Elise.
Turning away, he opened the door and stepped outside. Elise got out of the car and came running toward him. He opened his arms to welcome her.
The End