A Gambling Man (Archer #2)(83)

Archer once more looked at Kemper. She finally lifted her gaze to his and said, “I believe I made my position on that very clear to these gentlemen.”

Her father patted her on the arm. “And it’s your right to do so, of course, Beth. If you remember, I told you to strongly consider not marrying the man, but you inherited your mother’s stubbornness and you went ahead and did it anyway. And now look at where you are.”

Archer watched as the pink rose in the woman’s cheeks, and not in a good way. She looked angry but said nothing.

Dash said, “Regardless, someone was clearly trying to blackmail Kemper into dropping out of the race and using Fraser to do it. Now she’s dead.”

Armstrong sat up a little straighter and finished his glass of sangria. “I hope you’re not implying that Douglas had anything to do with this girl’s murder. I can’t say that I like the man all that much, particularly after the way he’s treated my daughter. But murder? That’s preposterous.”

Archer shot Kemper another glance. There was no expression on the woman’s features. Archer could not reconcile the vivacious, quick-witted woman in the diner with this dull apparition.

“I’m not implying anything,” said Dash. “I’m just saying that he had an obvious motive to get rid of her. And he didn’t have to do the deed himself. There are guys who would do it for him for the right price.” He glanced at Kemper. “Again, I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be here, but these are things we have to discuss. If you want to leave, this might be a good time.”

Archer saw the indecision on the woman’s face until Armstrong put a big hand on her shoulder. “Beth is strong. She can deal with this, Willie. Isn’t that right, my dear?”

Kemper glanced at Archer before saying, “I’m fine, Mr. Dash, please carry on.”

“All right, ma’am, if you’re sure.”

Armstrong said, “I don’t agree with that theory at all, Willie. Because now that she’s dead, people will assume that Douglas did have something to do with it. And while adultery is not a good look for a politician, murder is far worse. So don’t you see that this is an attempt to push the election to Alfred Drake?”

“So you really think Drake had her murdered?” said Dash, each word draped in more sarcasm than its predecessor.

“No, but politicians have backers. And Drake has his.”

“And who are Drake’s backers?”

Armstrong sat forward, looking pointedly animated now. “You should nose around about money men from Vegas, and mob types from New York who want to set up shop in Bay Town, Santa Barbara, Frisco, LA, and San Diego. There is a narcotics trade, Willie, that is very lucrative for the mob, and a lot of it comes over the border and over the water. These folks are invading this country, and nothing is stopping them so far.”

“Yeah, did you happen to mention that to Carl Pickett? Because he doesn’t even have a single police boat on the water. Maybe he likes the stuff coming in. Maybe he gets something from it. Maybe that’s how he can buy big-ass Chryslers and toothpicks by the bushel on a policeman’s salary.”

Armstrong sat back, looking surprised. “Are you accusing the chief of police of taking bribes?”

“Not at all. I think he slipped and fell on the street and a bunch of money ended up in his pocket. But if you tell him I said so, I’ll deny it.”

Armstrong waved this comment away. “I don’t care about Pickett at the moment. I care about this election, and I don’t want to see my son-in-law’s chances go down the tubes because someone is trying to frame him.”

“The son-in-law you don’t much care for?” said Archer.

Armstrong leveled his gaze at him. “I don’t have to like the man to like his politics. Douglas will be a good mayor, and, more to the point, he is the man we need at the moment. And I consider Alfred Drake to be certainly a socialist and perhaps a communist. He would be a disaster for this town.”

“You mentioned to Archer here that you wanted us to find the truth, no matter where it went. It didn’t sound like you had a dog in the hunt, Armstrong, but now it sounds like you do. So which is it? I’d like to know before deciding on your offer of engagement.”

Armstrong smiled and looked at his daughter. “I forgot how good Willie is at chess, Beth. I think he might have captured one of my pawns and one of my knights, and he’s now bearing down on my queen.”

“Is there an answer in there somewhere?” noted Dash.

“Look for the truth, Willie. And I do have a dog in the hunt, yes. But I’m confident of where the trail will lead you. How’s that for an answer?”

“I guess it’ll have to do, because I doubt another one will be coming along.” Dash took a sip of the sangria and wrinkled his nose.

“You don’t care for it?” asked Armstrong.

“I’m not much of a punch man. You introduce sweetness into alcohol, you’ve pretty much lost me. Liquor should burn, make a man feel alive. Otherwise, you’re just drinking something so you can piss it away an hour later. So, you had a look at the list we got from Kemper. Anyone on it look promising?”

“I’m not a detective.”

“Just your gut, then.”

“I think the list is pretty much worthless.”