him. “When Tucker calls you from Amsterdam, you call Abby O’Malley. She sends that incompetent poor bastard, Sean Dooley, after me. Big mistake, or is it?”
“What are you saying?” Devereaux asked. “You think I had other motives?”
“We’ll get to that. You knew Abby O’Malley had been desperate to get Lacey’s journal. Her whole life revolved around it. But you also knew she couldn’t hurt a fly.” The reference made Walter chuckle. His laughter unsettled Devereaux because he had no idea what it was based in. “Abby would send in a fool. You were sure of that. And that’s exactly what she did. The last thing you wanted was for her to get the document. She’d burn it in a New York minute. You were sure I could handle anything she did. You could play with both of us and still come out on top.”
“Can I get a refill on this?” Devereaux asked.
“What are you, fucking crazy? Get a refill! Put the fucking glass down and see if you can’t concentrate all your attention over here!”
“I only…”
“Louie? Louie-listen to me. This is not a lesson in interrogation. This is it-the major moment. Don’t you get it? Let’s get back to Holland. When Harry and I take off, you’re lost. I’ll tell you where we went. I know you’re interested.” Walter detailed his trip from Holland to Belgium to Spain and Mexico. Finally, the bus ride to Juarez and across the boarder to El Paso. “I bought a car there and we drove to New Mexico, to the cabin.”
“Nice touch,” said Devereaux.
“Huh?”
“The car. The car. Buying the car. Beautiful.”
“Because you knew everything Abby O’Malley knew, that means you knew I was going back to St. John. She told you that. You knew I was going to meet her there. So, you dispatched Tucker Poesy once more. You told her to find me, get the document and get out. But there was something-something important-you didn’t tell Tucker.”
“What was that?”
“I didn’t have Lacey’s document. Of course I didn’t have it. I wouldn’t have brought it with me from New Mexico. You knew that too and you saw your chance. You had separated me from Harry-separated me from Lacey’s confession-that was the time for your best shot. In the meantime, you thought I’d get rid of an unnecessary part of your changing plan.”
“Really?” said Devereaux trying very hard to sound calm and doing a poor job of it. “And just what was that supposed to be?”
“Tucker Poesy.”
“Ah, The Bambino.”
“The what?” asked Walter, totally perplexed. Devereaux only smiled. “You were right about her,” Walter said. “It’s her nature to move on a target. Subtlety is not a weapon in her arsenal. When she struck, you were sure I would kill her. And that’s really what you wanted, at that stage of the game. You needed to be rid of her. She no longer served any purpose, and she knew too much.”
“Well,” Devereaux spoke up. “She did, didn’t she? Wouldn’t you have done likewise? Killed her too? Cleaned up after yourself? No, actually you wouldn’t, would you. You’re a loner, a cosmic loner. You never clean up, because you never get dirty. See, I told you, Walter. I’m not in your league.”
“So, you sent someone to see me, someone very beautiful, very mysterious, someone pretending to be Aminette Messadou. She was good. I don’t know where you found her. One of your actors, I suppose. I hope you didn’t tell her too much, because if you did, I’m sure she’s dead by now. She gave me quite a colorful story, a really good one. And, through her, you establish a straw man and send me chasing him down an empty road. You divert my attention from Harry. Then you send in another actor of yours, a guy who throws around the name Christopher Hopman. Wow, that’s a powerhouse for Isobel Gitlin. Right between the eyes. She has no idea what’s hit her. Okay, I can live with that. I can see where you had plenty of information about Leonard Martin, and about me. But you used Isobel in a real bad way. She gave Harry up. She didn’t even know him. She didn’t know anything.” Walter stopped, took in a deep breath and gazed straight into the eyes of the devil. “You sent someone to kill Harry Levine and take the document. You have the Lacey Confession.”
“Is that a question?”
“No. Not a question. You have it, and it’s right here, inside this house.”
“And you’re going to do what? Torture me until I tell you where it is? Are you going to slit my throat? No, I forgot, you only do that to teenagers with one leg. Go ahead, Walter. Have your way with me. Cut me, beat me, do anything.” He laughed. Whatever Devereaux was thinking, Walter knew a desperate, frightened laugh when he heard one.
“I’m not going to touch you, Louie. I may kill you, but I won’t touch you. I don’t torture people. I don’t need you to tell me where the document is. I’ll find it. Have you forgotten? I’m The Locator.”
“What do you want then?” Devereaux said it, asked it, but hated himself for it. Cheesy, melodramatic asshole! he thought. “You don’t have the whole story. No, you sure don’t. You’re missing the most important piece of the game, Mr. Sherman.”
“No, I’m not,” said Walter. “I’m not.” He took in another deep breath, the sort of inhale a man takes at a moment of terrible sadness. “I know about her. It must have been for her. Why else would you do this? The Czar’s gold? What do you need with the Czar’s gold?”
“You’re smarter than I thought,” Louis Devereaux said, then immediately caught himself in an error. “No, no. No, that’s not what I thought. I always knew no one was ever smarter than you. The Locator. But I thought you’d lost something by now. Not much. Just a little. Middle age. Retirement. But you haven’t, have you? Sonofabitch.” Devereaux was smiling again, this time with real delight. “I underestimated you and I didn’t even know I was doing it. My mistake. I apologize.”
“You haven’t told me why-why her? Why do all this?”
“You already know why, Walter. You simply haven’t put it together yet. You don’t need me to tell you. It’s the gold. It’s always been the gold. From the time I first told her abo ut Lacey and his father-in-law and the Czar’s gold, that’s all she talked about. She became obsessed with those people-the Georgians. I got some Russian cigarettes for her, just as a hoot, you know. She asked for more. She started smoking them. She wanted the gold. It’s all been about the gold.”
“There is no gold,” said Walter.
“Oh?”
“None.”
“None?”
“You won’t find the answer in Lacey’s confession. Because there is no answer, no hiding place. No tons of gold coins.”
“You…” Devereaux’s laughter brought him to a coughing fit. “I’m sorry,” he said, recovering. He wiped his nose and rubbed his eyes, a genuine smile still sitting wide across his face. “You bought Roy Rogers’ act. Imagine that. I’m just a stocks-and-bonds boy! And you bought that. You? Holy shit!” Then he laughed again. “There’s more gold than you ever dreamed of. It was for her. It was all for her, you
… idiot.”
Walter rose from his seat, crossed the room to where Louis Devereaux sat and placed his. 9mm pistol on the small table next to Devereaux. “You killed Harry. You’re responsible. You’ve got a choice to make, Louie. You can pick this gun up-there is a single round in the chamber-otherwise unloaded. Just one shot. You can take that one bullet and go out of here with at least a touch of dignity. Or I can shoot you. Your decision.” Devereaux looked at the pistol, then up at Walter, and again at the gun. “I know what you’re thinking,” said Walter. “I’d think it myself. But I need to tell you that if you pick up that gun and so much as point it in my direction, Tucker Poesy will put two in the back of your head, probably in the little soft spot just below the skull, and probably get both in the same hole. She’s that good.”
“You use this one all the time?” mocked Devereaux. “Tucker Poesy’s behind me? That’s a good one.” He didn’t exactly laugh out loud, but he smiled and the devil’s grin filled the room with a smell like acid on metal.
“Hi, Louie,” she said.
Louis Devereaux picked up the gun. He knew it was an untraceable weapon that would stay behind. For the first time he noticed that Walter Sherman was wearing gloves, thin white cotton gloves. Only Devereaux’s fingerprints would be on the handle. He didn’t look at Walter again. In fact, Walter saw him close his eyes. He put
