Dogs alert their masters, and everyone else, that someone is approaching-and I had the strong feeling that Madox did not want Kate and I to know if anyone was outside those doors.
Also, if Kaiser Wilhelm was here, I’d feed him about twenty pigs to see if he keeled over, or if Madox stopped me.
On the other hand, maybe I was over-analyzing this, as I tend to do when my bloodhound instincts are aroused.
I thought it was time to increase the discomfort level, so I said to Madox, “I, too, have a confession to make. You know about the Borgias. Right?”
He nodded.
“Well, after you invited us here, we got this toxicology report on Harry Muller showing high levels of sedatives in his blood. And, Kate has been… well, concerned about… you know.”
Madox looked at me, then Kate, then back at me, and said, “No. I don’t know.” He added in a curt tone, “And perhaps I don’t want to know.”
I continued, “I guess this comes under the category of being bad dinner guests, but Kate… and I guess I… are a little concerned that you may have… a staff member who has access to powerful sedatives, and this could be the person who used them on the deceased victim.”
Mr. Madox did not comment on that, but he did light a cigarette without asking if anyone minded.
I made eye contact with Kate, and she seemed more uncomfortable than Bain, who actually appeared offended.
To make him feel better, I took another pig-in-the-blanket-blue toothpick, yellow mustard-and popped it in my mouth. “On the other hand,” I went on, “it appears that Detective Muller was sedated by means of a tranquilizer dart, followed by two hypodermic injections to keep him sedated.” I looked at Madox, but there was no reaction. “So, maybe we can rule out a Mickey Finn in the scotch or knockout drops in the mustard tonight.”
Madox sipped his scotch, drew on his cigarette, then asked me, “Are you suggesting that someone here is trying to… sedate you?”
“Well,” I replied, “I’m just extrapolating from the evidence at hand.” I made a little joke to lighten the moment. “A lot of people say I need sedating, and maybe it would do me some good-if it wasn’t followed by a bullet in my back.”
Madox sat quietly in his nice green leather chair, blowing smoke rings, then he glanced at Kate and pointed out to her, “I think if you believe that, then dinner is not going to be much fun.”
Good one, Bain. I really liked this guy. Too bad he had to die, or if he was lucky, spend the rest of his life in a place less comfortable than this.
Kate decided to take the offensive. “I’m interested in Carl.”
Madox stared at her, then said, “Carl is my oldest and most trusted employee and friend.”
“That’s why I’m interested in him.”
Madox replied sharply, “That’s almost the same as an accusation against me.”
“Perhaps Detective Corey and I should have informed you that no one who was on this property this weekend is above suspicion. And that includes you.”
At this point, Madox should have told us to forget dinner and asked us to leave his house. But he wasn’t doing that because he was no more through with us than we were with him.
In fact, this is the point where you’ve crossed the threshold, and now you begin the transition from the unknown suspect to the person you’re speaking to. Hopefully, the suspect has already said something incriminating, or will when you start to bully him. Lacking that, you need to rely on the existing evidence and good hunches. It all ends with me saying something like, “Mr. Madox, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Federal Agent Harry Muller. Please come with us.”
Then, you take the guy downtown and book him. Or, in this case, I’d have to take him to state police headquarters, which would make Major Schaeffer happy.
On that subject, I was starting to think that Schaeffer’s surveillance team hadn’t seen us going to the Custer Hill Club, or if they had, and reported it, Schaeffer was not doing anything about it. And why would he? More important, I pictured Tom Walsh having dinner or watching TV instead of reading Kate’s e-mail to him. Actually, I had the feeling that the cavalry would not be arriving soon, or ever. So, it was up to us to make the arrest.
This case, however, had some unique problems, like the suspect’s private army, and some familiar problems, like the suspect’s status as a rich and powerful man.
And, of course, aside from the homicide, there was the suspicion that the suspect was involved in a conspiracy to nuke the planet. And that was my more immediate concern, and my and Kate’s jurisdiction.
So, with that in mind, it was time to go nuclear, and I said to Bain Madox, “Speaking of houseguests, you had a guest who arrived Sunday, and has apparently not left yet. Will he be joining us for dinner?”
Madox stood suddenly, then walked to the bar. As he poured a short one, he remarked, “I’m not sure what-or who-you’re talking about.”
I didn’t like him being behind me, so I, too, stood, and motioned for Kate to stand. As I turned toward the bar, I said to Madox, “Dr. Mikhail Putyov. Nuclear physicist.”
“Oh. Michael. He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“I have no idea. Why?”
“Well, if he’s not here,” I said, “then he seems to be missing.”
“Missing from where?”
“Home and office.” I informed him, “Putyov’s not supposed to leave home without telling the FBI where he’s going.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“I think it’s in his contract.” I asked, “Is he a friend of yours?”
Madox leaned back against the bar with his glass in his hand, and seemed to be in deep thought.
I asked, “Was that a tough question?”
He smiled, then said, “No. I’m considering my reply.” He looked at me, then at Kate. “Dr. Putyov and I have a professional relationship.”
It sort of surprised me that he’d say that, but I guess we all realized that it was time to be honest, open, and sensitive to one another’s needs and feelings. Then we could all hug and have a good cry together, before I arrested or shot him.
I inquired, “What
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Oh, John-can I call you John?”
“Sure, Bain.”
“Good. So, what
I suggested, “Start with nuclear weapons miniaturization.”
He looked at me, nodded, and said, “Well, that’s a good start.”
“Okay. Can I also say suitcase nukes?”
He smiled and nodded again.
Well, this was easier than I expected, which might not actually be a good sign, but I continued, “Two more houseguests-Paul Dunn, adviser to the president on matters of national security, and Edward Wolffer, deputy secretary of defense.”
“What about them?”
“They were here-correct?”
“They were.” He added, “You can see why I don’t want people snooping around.”
“You’re allowed to have famous and powerful friends over for the weekend, Bain.”
“Thank you. The point is, it’s no one’s business.”
“But in this case, it might be my business.”
“Actually, John, you may be right.”
“I
“Right.”
