The Other Lady Vanishes (Burning Cove #2)(80)

“The key is that he was on drugs,” Gill said urgently. “Hallucinating. Don’t you understand? Nothing he says will stand up in court—especially when they find out that I was at home in Rushbrook when the shooting happened here in Burning Cove.”

“It’s a long drive back to Rushbrook. A good three hours, maybe longer if you run into fog.”

“That’s why I have to get on the road. It’s after one. If I leave now, I can be there by four or five. The staff at Rushbrook believe I’m away on a fishing trip. I’ll go into the office at my usual time tomorrow morning and tell everyone that the fish weren’t biting so I returned sooner than planned.”

“What are we going to do about Massey?” Paxton asked. “He knows too much.”

“If the police question me, I’ll tell them that there’s a streak of insanity in the Massey family. I’ve got his crazy aunt tucked away at Rushbrook to prove my point, remember? But I’m telling you, it won’t come to that, not if I get back to the sanitarium before the night is over. In fact, with a little luck we can still salvage the plan. Think about the money, Paxton. Daydream is worth a fortune.”

“Even if you convince the police that Massey is insane, what about Truett and Adelaide Blake?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Gill said. He spoke slowly, feeling his way as the new plan began to take shape in his head. “Adelaide Blake is crazy. Hell, she escaped from an asylum. The police won’t believe a word she says. But it occurs to me that if she were to poison her lover, Jake Truett, it wouldn’t be the biggest surprise in the world. After all, she was locked up for a reason.”

“Huh.” Paxton sounded intrigued. “That is not a bad idea.”

“It will take a little planning but I think we can come up with something that might work. But I need to get out of town first so that I can establish my alibi.”

“All right.”

“You’re safe. You were nowhere near the pier tonight.”

“True.” Paxton slipped the gun inside his jacket, took out a gold lighter, and lit a cigarette. “You’re right. I’ll be fine. Go on, get out of here.”

Gill did not need any urging. He climbed behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. Just as he was about to put the car in gear, Paxton materialized at the passenger side window. He rapped on the glass.

“Hang on,” Paxton said loudly. “Your trunk is open. I’ll close it for you.”

Gill waited while Paxton moved behind the Ford, raised the trunk lid, and slammed it firmly closed. He waved once, signaling that the problem had been taken care of, and then he turned and swiftly disappeared into the shadows of the oleanders.

Gill put the Ford in gear and pulled away from the curb. He started to breathe again. There had been a time when he was jealous of Paxton and Paxton’s glittering, star-studded life, envious of the fact that Paxton was fucking the most beautiful woman in Hollywood.

Now I’m afraid of the bastard, Gill thought.

No question about it, he would have to find a way to get rid of Paxton. Maybe he could figure out how to kill Paxton as well as Truett with Daydream and blame both murders on crazy Adelaide Blake. Maybe he could salvage the original plan. Maybe he could survive the mess.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed obvious that he did not need Paxton. He promised himself that by the time he got back to Rushbrook, he would come up with a scheme to ensure that he was the last man standing. He and he alone would control Daydream.

He got as far as Cliff Road before the explosion erupted, shattering the silence of the night. He died instantly.

The intense fire crackled to life a short time later.



* * *



? ? ?

?Paxton stood in the shadows and watched the Ford burn. It had been so easy to light the fuse on the stick of dynamite he had hidden under his coat, so easy to toss the explosive into the trunk of Gill’s car.

The thrill of satisfaction was intoxicating. They were all gone now—Ormsby, Madam Zolanda, Thelma Leggett, and finally, tonight, Gill. The drug ring had been shut down—except for him, of course. He was the last man standing. Now he and he alone controlled the powerful hallucinogen called Daydream.

Unlike Gill, he had no intention of selling it to a foreign government or anyone else. The potential was too promising. A few refinements were all that was needed to make Daydream more predictable. He could use derelicts and transients for the final phase of development.

Once he was sure that the drug was reliable, he would be able to control the most powerful people in the nation: industrialists, newspaper magnates, politicians—hell, maybe even the president.

Paxton envisioned his destiny with a sense of wonder. Soon he would become the most powerful man in America.

There was no reason to worry about Conrad Massey. It was true that he knew too much but everything he knew was connected to Gill and Ormsby, and both of them were now dead. Massey had never been aware of the drug ring that had been operating for years out of the Rushbrook Sanitarium. He had never known that Zolanda and Thelma Leggett had been dealing drugs to celebrities in Hollywood or that Gill’s old pal from medical school had been involved from the start.

Gill had been right about Adelaide Blake. No one would take her seriously once it became known that she had escaped from an asylum. Jake Truett was the only unpredictable element in the equation. He was evidently the kind of man who would keep asking questions until he was satisfied. Gill’s idea to have Adelaide Blake poison her lover was not a bad one. It had been easy enough to slip some Daydream into Truett’s drink at the Paradise Club. It was just a fluke that Truett had survived the first dose. He would not survive a second.