Hour Game

CHAPTER 86

KING HAD ASKED HARRY TO give Calpurnia the night off so he could make di

"You've got quite a kitchen, Harry," said King as he and Michelle put the meal on the table. "I appreciate your letting me come early to get things done."

Harry looked at the elaborately prepared meal. "Really, Sean, I have to think I made out far better than you on the arrangement."

Harry was dressed in one of his finest suits, though it seemed a little snug over his frame. "My weight hasn't changed in forty years, but its location has," he'd explained in a mock depressed tone.

"Yes, indeed," said Remmy, who was also dressed very handsomely. She and Harry sat side by side across from Sean and Michelle in the large dining room.

"I just trust that your drive home will be far less eventful than it was the last time you dined with me."

"Actually, I think this evening may hold its own unique points of interest," said King vaguely as he started serving the food. Michelle meanwhile looked on with a distracted expression.

"Michelle, my dear, what's wrong?" said Harry.

She glanced up at him quickly. "Nothing, just not feeling all that great. Probably just a spring bug."

The meal went uneventfully. They ate dessert and then moved on to the library for coffee. The night had turned chilly and the fire was warming. King went over to an enormous wood-and-stamped-tin room divider that sat diagonally against one corner.

"This is a beautiful piece," he said.

"Eighteenth century," answered Harry. "It was handmade from materials right here on the property."

King stood in front of the fire. He glanced nervously at Michelle and then said, "I'm afraid I've been a little deceitful tonight."

Harry and Remmy stopped chatting and looked up in surprise.

Remmy said, "What?"

"The purpose of this di

Harry set down his coffee and glanced at Remmy and then at Michelle, who kept her head down and her hand buried in the pocket of her jacket. "I don't understand, Sean. Do you mean you want to talk about the case some more?"

"No, I don't really need to talk about the case any more. I think I know all I need to know."

The two continued to glance curiously at him.

Michelle finally blurted out, "Sean, just tell them."

Harry said, "Tell us what?"

The hand in which Remmy was holding her cup and saucer started to shake.

They all turned as the man in the black hood came into the room, his gun out and its red laser aimed dead on Harry's heart.

King immediately stepped between black hood and Harry.

"This stops now," King said quietly. "No more killing."

"Get out of my way or you'll die first!"

Remmy rose. The pistol swiveled in her direction. "Sit down!" said the man sharply.

King took a step forward but stopped when the pistol came in his direction once more. "Michelle," said black hood, "take your gun out and put it on the table. Now! No heroics," he added.

She did so, gripping it by the muzzle.

"You can't kill us all, can you?" said King.

"I'm thinking about it, I really am," shot back the man as he eyed Remmy.

"Well, then I guess it's time to clear up your misperception," said King calmly. "Remmy and Harry had nothing to do with Bobby's death. It was a setup. A setup to bring you in." He paused and added, "I found the bug."

The gunman took a step back, his pistol dropped a notch. "What?"

"The conversation you heard between Michelle and me was staged. Okay!"

He snapped his fingers, and the room instantly filled with heavily armed police and FBI agents. They came out from behind the enormous room divider, the large cabinet in the corner and behind the thick drapes. With a dozen guns to his one, black hood backed up against the wall.

"Drop it," said Todd Williams, his gun leveled right at the circle in crosshairs etched on the black hood.

Michelle had picked up her gun and was aiming at the exact same spot. Black hood seemed to be thinking of whether to go for it. His body seemed to tense.

"Drop it!" roared Williams, who obviously sensed what the man was doing.

"It would really be better if you did," said King in a level voice. "At least that way you may be able to clear up a few remaining pieces. I think you owe us that."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Despite the sarcasm, the man let the pistol fall to the floor. He was immediately tackled by the police and handcuffed.

"The house has been surrounded all day," said King as they pulled the man back up. "We knew exactly where you were at all times. When I went over to admire that piece of furniture, I was actually given the signal you were in the house and I could start my little act." He paused. "We had Harry and Remmy in safe places so you wouldn't get a chance to jump the gun on us. We did it on our terms. It was actually refreshing." King walked over to the prisoner. "Do you mind?" He glanced at the prisoner's manacled hands. "Since you're in no position to remove it yourself."

"Doesn't matter now, does it?"

King glanced over at Remmy. "I realize you already know from his voice, Remmy, but, Harry, you better hold her anyway."

Harry placed a protective arm around Remmy's shaking shoulders. She put a hand to her mouth, stifling back a sob.

King lifted off the hood. The man flinched slightly as the fabric slid across his strong features.

"It's all over, Eddie," proclaimed King.

Surrounded by armed men, manacled and caught in the act, Eddie Battle actually had the temerity to smile. "You really think so, Sean?"

"Yes, I do."

"Hell, I'll take that bet, old buddy."

CHAPTER 87

"I STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW you figured it out, Sean," said Williams.

The police chief, Sylvia and Chip Bailey were gathered at King and Maxwell's office.

King bent a paper clip into a triangle before answering. "Seven hours," he said. "Seven hours, that's what got me thinking in Eddie's direction."

"You mentioned that before," said Williams.

"But it wasn't a literal clue. It made me start thinking about the drug that Eddie was given, or rather self-administered."

"Morphine sulfate," said Michelle.

"Right. I spoke with a narcotics expert. He told me that an average dose of the drug will knock you out foreight tonine hours unless the person it's given to is prone to using heavy-duty narcotics. Then its effects would be diminished. Well, Dorothea was just such a heavy-narcotics user. I believe Eddie slipped her the drug around two o'clock that night after they'd had sex. Yet because she'd built up resistance through her own drug use, the morphine's effects were reduced. In fact, she'd almost fully recovered less than six hours later-before eight o'clock, in fact, the time Sava

"But she mentioned she was in a fog," said Bailey.

"And she was, but coming out of it. We just thought she was lying, trying to cover up. However, Eddie couldn't give himself the morphine sulfate until after he'd killed Sally, not before, say, six o'clock or so. He started to come out of the effects of it around three in the afternoon, aboutnine hours after he took it, or the normal length of time the drug would render someone unconscious. That could only be possible if he took itafter Sally was killed. The seven-hour reference that kept bugging me came from Sally's being killed less than seven hours after she told me about Junior. That made me start thinking about how long Eddie was knocked out, and it just didn't add up. Particularly if you believed Dorothea was drugged too, since they recovered at very different times. Even with her built-up tolerance it was far too much of a discrepancy."