“I didn’t see anything, but I heard the shots.”
“Big deal, everyone on the block heard the shots. Come on, I gotta go.”
“Where?”
“Back to the airport.”
The cabbie gave Teddy a look. Teddy slapped money in his hand. “Get me to the airport on time and there’ll be more.”
The cab pulled out of the driveway just as police cars were stopping two doors down.
Teddy called the pilot to meet him at the gate. He got out his medical supplies and taped the cast back on his leg. He finished up just as they got there. Teddy slapped five hundred dollars into the cabbie’s hand.
“That’s for a job well done. You’ll recall we toured the casinos. I didn’t stay that long at any of them, but it took all day. And I was a lousy fare, just a cranky pain in the ass.”
“The worst,” the cabbie said with a grin.
Teddy took his crutches and his shoulder bag and got out. The pilot drove him to the hangar, where his plane was set to go. He tipped the pilot five hundred, got in his plane, and flew to Santa Monica.
Teddy set down on the runway and taxied up to Peter’s hangar. The pilot came out to meet him.
“Good trip, Mr. Barnett?”
“Couldn’t be better, but it’s not quite over. Could you throw my bags in the car before you put the plane away?”
“Sure thing. Let me get it.”
The pilot drove the car out of the hangar and tossed in the bags. Teddy thanked him, and sped into L.A.
He had one last thing to do.
101
The guests at Billy Barnett’s housewarming party congregated on the terrace, attracted by the full-service bar, the climate-controlled swimming pool, and the charcoal grill serving burgers and barbecue ribs.
Teddy was holding forth at a table by the pool. He wasn’t conducting any tours of the house, just letting people browse as they pleased. The only room he locked up was the study—he figured the huge safe Mike Freeman had installed might cause comment—but the other rooms were fair game. They included a movie theater/screening room that could seat fifty, a billiard room with a full-size pool table, an indoor lap pool should the weather prove inclement, a wine cellar, a bowling lane, a putting green, a four-car garage, and a workshop.
It also featured an elevator, a luxury for a three-story house, but a godsend for a man recovering from a broken leg.
Teddy had just gotten back. He’d finally gone on Billy Barnett’s well-advertised but never actually realized vacation, excellent cover for a man who needed rehab.
While there he had called Sergeant O’Reilly as CIA agent Jonathan Foster, to let him know the Ace Vargas gun was no longer of interest in the agency investigation, and learned the case was almost closed. It appeared that movie producers Gerard Cardigan and Mason Kimble were killed in Las Vegas, in a shoot-out that also left a mobster and a couple of his henchmen dead. The gun that killed the mobster, and one of his henchmen, proved to be the Vargas gun, and the police investigation had discovered a link between Kimble and Cardigan and the deceased detective.
Teddy was relieved to hear it. He was glad he wouldn’t have to point out the connection.
Ben Bacchetti and Mike Freeman came walking up.
Teddy grinned. “Ben. Where the hell’d you find him?”
“He was hanging around outside looking lonely.”
“I didn’t get an invitation,” Mike said, “but I thought I’d crash.”
“You didn’t get an invitation because you’re in New York. It’s a long commute for a housewarming.”
“You guys catch up,” Ben said. “I’m getting ribs.”
“I was just asking Ben about the hostile takeover,” Mike said. “I understand it’s over.”
“The guys behind it got involved with mobsters and wound up dead.” Teddy shrugged. “I don’t know who their heirs are, but I doubt if they want to run a motion picture studio. We’ll probably just buy back their stock. Anyway, the board meeting’s canceled, thank God. Those things are a waste of time.”
“Glad to hear it. So, how’s your new security system?”
“Well, no one’s burned the house down yet.”
“What’s the verdict on your old house?”
“Arson by person or persons unknown. That’s cop-speak for we haven’t got a clue. The insurance company’s taking it to mean they don’t have enough evidence to indict the guilty homeowner.”
“Will you fight them?”
“Herbie Fisher offered to do it pro bono. It’s the type of thing he’s good at.”
“The money’s as good as yours.” Mike lowered his voice. “Did you hear? Nigel Hightower’s resurfaced.”
“Really?” Teddy said.
“Yes. It’s a load off my mind. Now the police will stop bugging me for information I don’t have.”
“Is he here in L.A.?”
“Chicago. He popped up on social media. According to Facebook, he has no intention of coming here.”
Peter and Tessa showed up late. They’d been taping a radio interview to promote the movie.
Tessa came flying across the terrace. “Billy! How are you? Can I hug you, or are you still too sore?”
“It’s nothing,” Teddy said. “I slipped in the shower,” he added, for the benefit of guests who didn’t know he was Mark Weldon. “I’m fine now.”
“Can you walk around?”
“Would you like a demonstration?” Teddy offered her his arm. “What can I show you?”
“Someplace quiet?”
“Would you like a drink?”
“I haven’t talked to you in a month. Walk me out of earshot.”
Teddy led Tessa into the library room. “See? Nothing quieter than a library.”
Tessa grabbed his hands and looked into his eyes. “Is it over?”
“It’s over. I have the last remaining physical copy, and the electronic file has mysteriously vanished from all of Mason Kimble’s computers. I’ll give you the DVD, and you can do whatever you want with it. But you’re safe now. All the people who wanted to hurt you with it are dead.”
“Thank God.”
“Now that it’s over, I strongly advise you to tell Ben about it. You’ll feel better, and it’s the right thing to do.”