slow, melodic movements.
The interior of the house had not been returned to its original
condition or configuration. This was his birthplace but it had not been
a happy childhood amid poverty that threatened never to go away. The
sense of urgency spawned from that time had served Sullivan well in his
career, for it fueled him with a stamina, a resolve before which many an
obstacle had wilted.
He cleaned the plates, and went into the small room that had once been
his parents’ bedroom. Now it contained a comfortable chair, a table and
several bookcases that housed an extremely select collection of reading
material. In the corner was a small cot, for the room also served as his
sleeping chamber.
Sullivan picked up the sophisticated cellular phone that lay on the
table. He dialed a number known only to a handful of people. A voice on
the other line came on. Then Sullivan was put on hold for a moment
before another voice came on.
“Goodness, Walter, I know you tend to keep odd hours, but you really
should try to slow down a bit. Where are you?”
“You can’t slow down at my age, Alan. If you do, you might not start
back up again. I’d much rather explode in a fireball of activity than
recede faintly into the mists. I hope I’m not disturbing something
important.”
“Nothing that can’t wait. I’m getting better about prioritizing world
crises. Was there something you needed?”
Sullivan took a moment to place a small recording device next to the
receiver. One never knew.
“I only had one question, Alan.” Sullivan paused. It occurred to him
that he was enjoying this. Then he thought of Christy’s face in the
morgue and his face became grim.
“What’s that?”
“Why did you wait so long to kill the man?”
In the silence that followed, Sullivan could hear the pattern of
breathing on the other end of the phone. To his credit Alan Richmond did
not start to hyperventilate; in fact, his breathing remained normal.
Sullivan came away impressed and a little disappointed.
“Come again?”
“If your men had missed, you might be meeting with your attorney right
now, planning your defense against impeachment. You must admit you cut
it rather close.”
“Walter, are you all right? Has something happened to you? Where are
you?”
Sullivan held the receiver away from his ear for a moment.
The phone had a scrambling device that made any possible tracing of his
location impossible. If they were trying to lock in his position right
now, as he was reasonably certain they were, they would be confronted
with a dozen locations from which the call was supposedly originating,
and not one of them anywhere near where he actually was. The device had
cost him ten thousand dollars. But, then, it was only money.
He smiled again. He could talk as long as he wanted.
“Actually I haven’t felt this good in a long while.”
“Walter, you’re not making any sense. Who was killed?”
“You know I wasn’t all that surprised when Christy didn’t want to go to
Barbados. Honestly, I figured she wanted to stay behind and do some
alley-catting with a few of the young men she had targeted over the
summer. It was funny when she said she wasn’t feeling well. I remember
sitting in the limo and thinking what her excuse would be. She wasn’t
all that creative, poor girl. Her cough was particularly phony.
I suppose in school she used the dog-ate-my-homework with alarming
regularity.”
“Walt-”
“The odd thing was that when the police questioned me regarding why she
hadn’t come with me, I suddenly realized I couldn’t tell them that
Christy had claimed illness. You may recall that there were rumors of
affairs floating in the papers about that time. I knew if I reported her
not feeling well, coupled with her not joining me in the islands, that
the tabloids would soon have her pregnant with another man’s child even
if the autopsy confirmed otherwise. People love to assume the worst and
the juiciest, Alan, you understand that.
When you’re impeached they’ll assume the worst of you of course. And
deservedly so.”
“Walter, will you please tell me where you are? You are obviously not