Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(75)

“They’re a bunch of incompetent fools.” Jasper made a disgusted sound. “I assume they have something on both of you. They probably threatened to put you in prison if you didn’t help them.”

Matthias did not respond to that. Neither did Luther.

“My original plan was actually very neat and very straightforward,” Jasper continued. “If everyone had followed the script, I would already be out of the country with the Ares machine, and the public would have been convinced that the robot murdered Pickwell. The government might have had some suspicions, but for all intents and purposes the trail would have dead-ended at the Palace Theater. Looks like the Broker double-crossed me right at the start of this thing.”

“It just goes to show you can’t trust anyone these days,” Luther said. “It’s almost dawn. Let’s finish this. You came for the cipher machine. It’s in this suitcase along with the rotors. Take the damn thing and let Miss Vaughn go.”

“I’m afraid Miss Vaughn and the gas cylinder will have to come with me,” Jasper said. “I’ll need someone to drive the car, you see. I’ve got a rendezvous with a boat that will be picking me up tonight in L.A. I won’t have any use for a hostage after that. I’ll leave Miss Vaughn behind on the pier. She’s a clever woman. I’m sure she’ll be able to find a phone.”

“You’ve got the gas,” Matthias said. “You don’t need a hostage.”

“I learned long ago that having a hostage is the most effective way to make sure everyone stays focused on the objective. I should warn you that the gas in this cylinder is under pressure. I’ve got my hand on the trigger. If anything happens to me, say someone decided to take a shot and hit me or distracted me, the contents would be released. One breath will destroy the nervous system. I’m told it’s a painful way to go.”

“You’d be killed along with the rest of us,” Luther pointed out.

Jasper looked at Amalie. “Show him the mask, Miss Vaughn.”

Without a word, Amalie picked up the heavy mask that was lying on the table. She held it so that Matthias and Luther could see it.

“A mummy mask?” Matthias said. “You really are a frustrated horror actor, aren’t you? I hear The Revenge of the Robot was a box office disaster.”

A flicker of astonishment flashed in Jasper’s eyes.

“Nice work for a couple of mob guys,” he said. “How the hell did you figure it out?”

“We found the robot costume a short time ago,” Luther said. “It was in Pierce’s closet. It had the studio’s name stamped inside. One thing led to another. There are no secrets in Hollywood. You just have to know who to call.”

Jasper’s jaw twitched. “The idea was to make it look like Lorraine Pierce was the real Smith. She was perfect for the role.”

“Because she was a gossip columnist?” Matthias asked. “Seems like a bit of a stretch.”

“Lorraine Pierce was a professional assassin during the war,” Jasper said. “We never met in the field but I was aware of her work. She was good. Very, very good. When I went into the gunrunning business here in California, I needed a front man. Front woman, in this case. I recruited her. She never realized that she was working for me, of course. I let her believe she was the head of the operation. As far as she was concerned I was her number one client.”

“She murdered Pickwell, Hubbard, and Thorpe for you but she never knew your identity, did she?” Matthias said.

“I was always just a voice on the phone,” Jasper said.

“You gave her the orders for the weapons and then you gave her the strategy for buying and selling them,” Matthias said.

“I was always nearby to keep an eye on her, but she never noticed me. Never recognized me. Sometimes I was a stuntman. Sometimes a chauffeur. Sometimes a gardener.”

“Looks like you were a pretty fair actor, after all,” Luther said.

“It was my talent for assuming new identities that made it possible for me to survive the Great War,” Jasper said. “I was brilliant; a legend. But I didn’t descend from an old, established family. I didn’t graduate from an Ivy League school. Back in Washington, the men who run the spy agencies are convinced they can only trust others from their own class.”

“Obviously your old boss was right about not being able to trust you,” Luther said.

“It annoyed me when he tried to terminate my employment with a bullet,” Jasper said. “But enough about the past. Here is how we’re going to handle our current situation. Miss Vaughn and I will make our way downstairs. You will open the suitcase so that I can inspect the merchandise. Miss Vaughn will then carry the case outside and put it into the trunk of your speedster, Mr. Jones. She will get behind the wheel and drive me to my destination. If anyone tries to stop us along the way, if there is even a hint of a change of plan, if I hear so much as a fire siren, I will kill Miss Vaughn. If we run into a roadblock, I will release the gas. Everyone in the vicinity will die. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes,” Luther said.

Matthias looked at Amalie. “Time to fly.”

She met his eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Trust me.”

She moved her hand a little, allowing the trailing edge of her delicate wrap to dip into the candle flame. The gossamer fabric caught fire in an instant. Amalie screamed and leaped to her feet.