A Gambling Man (Archer #2)(129)

“Don’t begrudge me taking one of your pawns,” said Armstrong. “As my final act.”

The bullet was fired, and everyone just stood there. Except for Callahan and Kemper, who stared openmouthed from their seats on the floor.

Armstrong seemed to be the last person in the room to comprehend that he was the one who had been shot. He finally looked down curiously at the gaping hole in his chest. He looked up and saw Beth Kemper standing in the doorway, the smoking gun she held still pointed resolutely at him, like an accusatory finger demanding justice.

Beth Kemper looked prepared to take a second shot. However, Sawyer Armstrong slid dead to the floor, so it didn’t seem necessary to kill the man twice.

Kemper calmly set the gun down on a table, walked over to her husband, knelt beside him, and hugged him as tightly as she could.

Callahan moved her arm away and looked at Archer. He was not looking back. He was watching Dash, whose gaze was squarely on the dead man.

When he finally looked up to see Archer staring at him, he shrugged and said, “Now that takes the cake.”





SEVERAL DAYS LATER, AROUND LUNCHTIME, Archer drove to the office and rode the elevator up, pushing the necessary buttons as Earl no longer could. He said hello to Connie Morrison, who smiled sweetly at him and told Archer that Dash wanted to see him.

Archer pecked on the man’s door and was told by a gruff voice to enter.

Dash was on the davenport, his shoes off, his feet up, and his jacket off. He had a tumbler of scotch in one hand and a cigar in the other. “Take a seat.”

Archer sat.

“First things first. I got five names for your license application. You’ll be happy to know that both Carl Pickett and Steve Prichard signed the list, their last official acts before they retired from the force.”

“Retired, huh? How come?”

“I strongly suggested it and they finally agreed.”

“So who’s going to be the new chief?”

“I’ve told Ern to make a run for it. He’s young, smart, talented, honest as the day is long. Which means he doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting the job.”

“Okay.”

“I’m writing a letter to the Board of Prison Directors. Connie will include that with the application she’s typing up now for your signature. It basically says you’re a helluva gumshoe, are of outstanding moral character, and helped solve a big case and saved a bunch of lives, blah, blah, blah. You’ll get the license.”

“But you said they might do their own investigation into me, my background. Hell, I killed a lady down in Ventura, even though it was in self-defense.”

“Yeah, I made discreet inquiries into that, Archer, through some PIs I know down there. The lady’s body was found, the cops did their investigation, and they concluded that it indeed looked like self-defense. She had fired two rounds into the chair, I assume, you were sitting in. She missed, you didn’t.”

“They’re really going to leave it like that?”

“You deduced that the lady was selling drugs. Well, the cops down there were already looking her way on that as well. So the consensus in Ventura is she got what was coming to her. End of story.”

“Damn, I didn’t expect that.”

“Second thing, the Kempers added another nine grand to the retainer already paid, for a total of ten thou in appreciation of a job well done and a cancer named Sawyer Armstrong no longer being in their lives. So my money problems are over, for now, at least.”

“That’s great. So, what is my salary and when do I start getting paid? Connie didn’t know, and you never said.”

“Third thing, all the folks who were at the Cliffs are keeping their traps shut. Pickett and Prichard, Hank and Tony, and the other two goons know they’re looking at murder and kidnapping and assault charges and a long stint in the big house if they say one word. So we’re good there. Now, in an ideal world, they’d all be going to the slammer or the gas chamber, but proof is hard to come by, and I doubt Hank and Tony can make a living without Armstrong around. They’ll melt into the dirt, like a water lily in the Sahara. And Pickett and Prichard are leaving town. And good riddance.”

“Okay.”

“Fourth thing, Beth inherited everything that Armstrong had. So she’s even richer than she was. And Douglas is going to be the new mayor, so that hunk of rock out there will stay a hunk of rock. And it looks like with Armstrong out of the way, those two are going to make it. True love wins out, right?”

“Right. And fifth?”

“There is no fifth, except what’s in that bottle of scotch over there. Okay, I’m done, Archer. Go off and play today.”

Archer rose and headed to the door.

Dash said, “Hey Archer?”

“Yeah?”

“You got the makings of a decent gumshoe. Just keep at it, okay?”

Archer nodded. “That wasn’t really Ma Barker’s tommy gun, was it?”

“Who the hell knows? But when you pick up a weapon like that, you got to do it with style.”

Archer signed his application and Morrison said she would be mailing it out that day. And then she did something that surprised Archer. From behind a vase of flowers she lifted up a long-stemmed glass with some liquid in it.

“What’s that?” asked Archer.