'Same as the others: talked cash, got him in, dosed him up, and choked him.'
'To death?'
'Nope. Just unconscious. Then I gagged him and tied him and stashed him next to Cadmus.' Antrim laughed.
'What's funny?' asked Milo.
'I used to drive this meat truck, for this sausage company over in Vernon. Hauled pig carcasses. This was kind of the same thing.'
'Where'd you go after you'd tied up Ford?'
'Up to Chancellor's place.'
'Remember that route?'
'Santa Monica to Sunset, west into Beverly Hills to the hotel, then north and up a ways. Big white place behind walls.'
'Where was Skull?'
'Side street off Doheny. I picked her up.'
' What'd you do when you got there?'
'Place was locked, electric gate. We had a plan to get in -part of the orders. There was a squawk box. Had to push the botton a bunch of times before Chancellor answered. He sounded out of it, like he'd just woke up. Said, 'Who is it?' and Skull answered in a kid's voice - '
'A kid's voice?'
'Yeah. Like a sixteen-year-old. An impression, you know? She's got a talent for that kind of thing,' he added proudly, 'does Bugs Bunny, Minnie Pearl, Elvis. You should hear her.'
'I'll be sure to,' said Milo. 'What did she say to
Chancellor?'
'She told him she was a friend of Jamey's, that they'd had an accident and he was there with her, hurt bad. You could hear Chancellor get all uptight, breathing hard over the squawk box. He said he'd be right down. He pulled Cadmus's body out of the van and laid it in front of the gate. Skull backed down the block, cruised slowly; you can't park overnight in Beverly Hills, and we didn't want to attract no attention. I waited off to the side of the gate. After a few minutes I could hear Chancellor coming. The gates opened, and he came out in this faggy dressing gown. When he saw Cadmus, he gave a yell. I jumped him, hit him hard, and put a choke on him - to put him out, just like Ford. Then Skull cruised by with the van, and I loaded Chancellor and Cadmus in it. Tied up Chancellor and drove through the gate. Closed it and hauled all of them up to the house. He was heavy.'
Antrim stretched, pulled out a cigarette, and lit up; contentedly, as if rewarding himself for a job well done When he showed no intention of saying anything further
Milo said: 'What'd you do once you got up there?'
'Dragged them all into the house.'
Antrim blew smoke rings at the ceiling.
'Then what?'
'Dosed up Cadmus, choked Ford and Chancellor with the silk, cut them up, and hung Chancellor from the ceiling.'
'Why'd you hang him?'
'That was the orders. Truss him up with the pool rope and hoist him up. Ball-bursting job, man. He was big.'
'What about the position of his hands?'
'The what?'
'The way you positioned his hands after you hung him. Was that part of the orders, too?'
'Oh, that. Yeah, it was. Tie him up and wrap his hands around what was left of his cock.'
'Any idea why?'
'Nope,' said Antrim. 'Maybe it was his idea of a joke.'
'Whose idea?'
'Souza's. Though I never did see him joke much.'
Milo shut the monitor off and looked around the table. Dwight had gone bed sheet white. Heather continued to use the handkerchief as a veil. Souza sat as impassively as a cigar store Indian.
'Any comments?' Milo asked him.
'None whatsoever.'
'Horace,' said Dwight in a shaky voice. 'What he said - '
'Is utter nonsense,' spat Souza. 'Tully's always been unstable, prone to wild fantasies. I knew that when I hired him, but I felt sorry for him and I was able to keep him in line. Until now.'
Dwight looked at Milo.
'He's highly credible,' said the detective calmly. 'He knows details that only a perpetrator or an observer could have known. The physical evidence backs him up one hundred percent. Marthe Surtees verifies it all independently.'
'Dwight,' said Souza reassuringly, 'this is absurd. A travesty that will be set right. In the meantime, I strongly
advise you, as your attorney - and friend - not to say another word.'
'He can't function as an attorney in this case,' said Milo. 'He's a suspect.'
'He ain't much of a friend either,' drawled Cash.
Heather dropped her veil and touched her husband's cheek with her fingertips.
'Darling,' she said, 'listen to Horace.'
'Darling,' mimicked Cash. 'That's a good one.'
'Don't talk to my wife that way,' said Dwight.
Cash looked at him scornfully, turned to Milo, and smiled. 'Rich folk,' he said. 'Put 'em in shit up to their chins, and they think it's a beauty bath.'
'Horace,' said Dwight, 'what the hell is going on?'
'I'm going to tell you what's going on,' said Milo. And he got up, picked up his briefcase, and walked with it to the far end of the table.
'On the surface it's complicated,' he said, 'but when you get down to it, what we have here is just another dirty little family squabble. Soap opera stuff. Dr. Delaware could probably give you the psychological reasons for it, but I'm going to stick to the facts.'
He opened the briefcase, drew out some papers, and spread them on the table.
'I never knew your dad,' he said to Dwight, 'but from what I've learned, he sounds like a guy who liked things simple.' He lifted a sheaf of papers. 'Take this will, for example. Estate of this size and you'd figure it might get all complicated. But no, he has two sons; he divided everything right down the middle - almost. Fifty-one percent to your brother, forty-nine to you.' He paused. 'Must have seemed unfair, huh? Especially when you were such an obedient kid and Peter was such a flake.'
'Father would have changed the will eventually,' said Dwight reflexively. As if it were a well-rehearsed line ' If he'd lived long enough.'
'Hush,' said Souza.
Milo smiled. 'I guess you can keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better '
Heather let her veil drop. The face behind the silk was tight with anger. Gripping her husband's sleeve, she said:
'Don't respond to him, darling. Don't let yourself be demeaned.'
'He's already been demeaned plenty,' said Milo. 'And not by me.'
She let go of the sleeve and didn't answer. Her silence made Dwight dip his head and look at her.
'I need to know what's going on,' he said weakly.
She avoided his stare and turned away. The evening purse was in front of her, and she plunged her fingers into its sequined folds and began kneading, furiously.
'Anyway,' said Milo to Dwight, 'no use speculating what might have happened. Point is, your dad didn't live long enough to change anything, and Peter ended up with the lion's share. Which could have been a real disaster, even with all your hard work and the help of Faithful Friend Horace, here. Because at some point, if he wanted to,
