#018: Upgrading

It was a little past two o'clock. Karen had been returned home and put to bed. A security man called Gallo was in occupation of her sitting room. He assured me that he was a "quite competent" paramedic and that she was "okay" but was not to be disturbed. I accepted that, for the moment, and went in search of Kalinsky.

I found him in the lounge, having coffee with two very relaxed and friendly plainclothes cops. I had not noticed either of these at the death scene. I shook hands with them under Kalinsky's introductions and joined the table for coffee.

I was introduced by name only, but the cops apparently already had me related. One of them said something sympathetic with regard to the "hell of a night."

The four of us small-talked for another minute or so, Kalinsky all sad charm and quiet grace, then the cops made pleasant farewells and departed.

That left just Kalinsky and me in the lounge, except for a houseman hovering inconspicuously in the background. Kalinsky's demeanor underwent a marked alteration the instant the cops walked away, moving in a twinkle from charm and grace to nasty hard.

"Let's get an understanding right up front here," he growled at me. "You don't do diddly-squat around here unless you check it out with me first, especially anything involving outside authorities."

It was a time for hardball and I was entirely ready for that game. "Get screwed," I growled back. "I have not signed your dumb-ass contract and I do not intend to. So let's upgrade this understanding. You back off and come at me like a regular guy and maybe I will hang around long enough to straighten out this mess you've got here."

"Oh pardon me," he said, the sarcasm dripping, "I forgot myself. You're the miracle girl, aren't you—creeping Jesus himself, and you're going to forgive all our sins."

I replied, "The hell I am," and got to my feet. "I'll just catch up with the cops for a safe escort out of this nuthouse."

He grabbed my arm and held on. Our eyes locked briefly while I was deciding whether or not to break his arm off at the elbow and take it with me, then he flashed me a twinkle and said, chuckling, "You're right, I'm being an ass. Sit down, let's talk like adults."

He removed his hand. I sat down. We each lit a cigarette. He blew smoke straight up and said, in a musing tone, "You've met me at my worst, Miss Naru. Sorry. Everything has just been too crazy. I was upset because you called the cops before you called me. If you had routed it through me, see—well, we have channels, friends. We would have had the right people on the response and we could have avoided that circus out there."

I replied, in about the same tone, "I understand. But you need to understand my problem too. You are not my client. Karen is. And I am not that sure that your friends are also Karen's friends. So you should understand my desire to have a neutral response."

"I understand that now," he said softly. "I did not understand it a moment ago. Again, I apologize. I thought you had simply lost your head and called the cops without thinking through the consequences. I was hoping to impress upon you the importance of working through channels."

"Well, now that we have that all straightened out..."

"Yes," he replied in a soft voice, "but it is not completely straightened out. You see, you are working a false hypothesis. Karen is not your client. In fact, Miss Naru, you have no client here, as such. You serve entirely at my pleasure. Karen does not have the power to engage you or anyone else in her direct service. You work for me or you do not work here."

I knew about where he was coming from, but I wanted him to say it, flat out. I told him, "Karen has all the power she chooses to exercise. She can run your ass out of here any time she wishes to do so. I have been considering advising her to do just that."

He was still smiling, but a hard edge was developing at the eyes. "Why are you acting this way? You must know that Karen would be in a cell right now if I had not intervened."

I shrugged and said, "One cell is much like another. And it occurs to me, Kalinsky, that this whole thing has come to a head at a highly convenient time for you. The Highland estate obviously cannot pass into the control of a mental incompetent, can it? In fact, your cup of convenience seems to be fairly running over. In one fell swoop, here tonight, you've perpetuated your grip on the Highland billions while also ridding yourself forever of a troublesome teammate who also happened to be a competitor for your wife's affections. So surely you can understand why I am acting this way. Would Karen be in a cell right now but for your intervention? I wonder. I have to wonder, Kalinsky, if it was your intervention that put her in the shadow of that cell in the first place."

I don't know what sort of reaction I had expected from the guy. I only know that I was a bit surprised at the one I got. He seemed to relax, sink a bit lower in his chair, smiling inwardly. After a brief silence he laughed softly and gave me a wink.

"Well," he said quietly, "we seem to be getting all the cards onto the table. Incidentally, I just remember that I did not express my gratitude to you for saving Marcia's life. That was a hell of an heroic thing. I salute you. But don't think for a minute it gives you room to tweak my nose. I won't stand still for that. Are you really psychic?"

It seemed that we were moving back into a game of verbal tennis. I told him, "I have my moments. As for Marcia, it was not heroic, just human, and you expressed your gratitude in the only way that counts by your actions at poolside. You're really in love with the lady, aren't you?"

He looked at his hands as he replied. " 'Course I'm in love with her. She's the only thing that made these past twenty years bearable. Think it's been a picnic here, submerging my entire life in someone else's business? You said a cell is a cell. Look at mine, Miss Naru. My whole life is a cell. Just how good a psychic are you?"

"I found Karen. How good was that?"

"Damned good," he came right back. "I meant to ask you how you did that."

"It did me," I told him. "And quick enough to spoil the timing on the play. No way would Karen or Doc Powell either one get that far away on foot in the time allowed. How long have you had that conservancy tucked away for such convenient use?"

"Who said they got there on foot?"

"I didn't notice wings on either of them."

Kalinsky gave me a sly grin. "Wings would be nice. But a car is faster. The police found Carl's BMW in the bushes just a few hundred feet beyond that canyon. As for Karen, she had plenty of time to wander that far. I spent more than ten minutes searching for her on premises before I alerted you and Carl. Maybe that canyon is one of Karen's favorite getaways and maybe Carl knew that. Maybe you knew it, too, which also disposes of the psychic bullshit. Who says I've had anything tucked away?"

"Your telephone conversation with a certain judge says it, the one you made before you came out to the scene."

His eyes narrowed. He crushed out his cigarette and immediately lit another, toyed with his coffee cup, finally said to me, "You're a pretty good fisherman but a lousy psychic."

"Other way around, TK. But never mind, neither applies here. I'm also a pretty good detective. Matter of fact, though, it does not take much of a detective to catch the action around here. Why was Carl leaving?"

Kalinsky was a bit slow moving to the opposite corner to return that serve. He bit his lip for a nervous moment before replying. "Did he tell you that?"

It was a weak return, and it caught me off balance. I could have offered a better volley than this: "No. We were talking about God and Satan when you came in on us. Trying to decide who's in charge here."

"I'm in charge here," said my host immediately. "Don't forget it. And don't take too many liberties with my patience. You may be a high-mucky guru in certain circles, but you're small change in this division, kid."

So the hell with it. I went back to hardball. I said, "I was supposed to be Karen's victim, wasn't I? You ran me through your gristmill and decided I'd make the perfect turkey. That's the only reason you allowed Karen the freedom to cultivate me. Carl sent her to Zodiac for the specific purpose of finding a cuckoo to crucify. Then he got cold feet or an attack of conscience and wanted out. Adding insult to injury, he was going to take Marcia with him. That little subplot came to a head down beside the pool tonight, when you thought you'd lost Marcia the hardest way and you realized how much she really meant to you. Ipso quicko, that emotional head of steam sent Carl to the crucifix in my place. A brilliant move, sure, in the short look—but you should never let a momentary emotion replace years of careful planning, TK. It's all coming unglued, now, the timing shot to hell—and then, also, there is this small change rattling around in the basement and threatening to bring the billions tumbling down."

Kalinsky growled, "You're crazy as hell."

"Not as crazy as you think, if you believe I walked into this mess unprepared." It was time to make a believer of him. "Karen has not killed anyone. She has not tried to kill anyone. She is not mentally incompetent. She shall not be deprived of her rightful inheritance."

I produced the Xeroxes of JQ's final papers from beneath my shirt and slid them across the table to him. And I lied a little. I do that, sometimes, in a good enough cause.

"The originals of these papers are in legal hands and will be formally recorded with the probate court on Monday morning. There will also be an emergency motion to have you removed from further influence over Karen, plus a change of venue to an impartial judge. Then we'll all discover who is really in charge here, pal."

Kalinsky was giving me a stunned, sick look—even before he picked up the papers. He muttered, "We've been eleven years closing this thing. It's scheduled for formal conclusion in less than a week. You can't ...

By this time he knew what he was holding in his hands. They were shaking somewhat as he scanned down the lines of spidery handwriting. He did a quick scan of both papers, then went back for a close reading, and he did that twice before he pushed his chair back, refolded the papers, and slid them back to me.

He said, very quietly, "If this is fraudulent ..."

I said, just as quietly, "You know it's not. If anybody could recognize JQ's handwriting, it should be you."

He sighed and admitted, "It looks like his. 'Course, it would take an expert opinion."

"I'm sure it will pass muster."

He sighed again. "Yeah... probably. Well, shit. This makes me feel like hell, you know. All these years... Thought I enjoyed JQ's confidence. Looks like... Well, hell, makes no difference to Karen, all comes out the same, anyway. Except—well, shit, Miss Naru—this will just muddy everything up again if you introduce this thing at this point."

"Probably."

"And it would place Karen in great peril if you try to challenge the conservancy."

"Maybe."

"Well, maybe we could come to some..."

"Maybe we could."

"I don't give a shit about the money."

" 'Course not."

"Really, I'm sincere about that. Won't make that much difference, anyway, not to me. Time for the turnover, anyway. I've earned my fees. I don't see how a court in the land would take them away from me at this point. But, for Karen's sake ..."

"For her sake, right."

"What would it take to persuade you to keep this out of public view until the probate formally closes? That's only a few days from now."

"I would have to be persuaded that I am really a lousy detective and that my scenario is all wrong, that our interests are identical."

"They are," he assured me, "if you're talking about being on Karen's side."

"That's what I'm talking about."

The guy really looked like hell. He was coming apart, for whatever reason. I felt a movement of sympathy for him—a movement tempered, however, by the unknown factors.

His eyes were watering. He produced a handkerchief and delicately blew his nose into it, carefully refolded it, and returned it to a pocket.

"How can I persuade you?" he asked humbly.

"Believe that my only interest is to arrive at the truth of Karen's situation. Help me find that truth. If I then decide that she is in proper hands, here, and that the proper things are being done for her, then I will fold my tent and leave you all in peace."

Kalinsky dabbed at his eyes with a knuckle and said, "Fair enough. Where do we start?"

"We start with the truth," I told him.

"That," he said with a sigh, "is going to be damned difficult to find. And it just might knock both our socks off, if we ever get there."

I would remember, later, that he told me that.