Book Cover  •  Table of Contents  •  < PREV Chapter  •  Book Notes

CHAPTER 31

      VICTOR SOAMES answered the door himself.

      He was dressed in baggy pajamas covered by a dirty red bathrobe. "You're just in time for my noon libations," he said. "To what do I owe this honor, Mr. Rand?"

      Rand followed him through the atrium into his office. "The case is pretty much solved. Just winding up a couple of things," Rand said affably. "I appreciate your taking the time."

      Soames banged his bottle of Straight American against his desk and called out: "Un vaso!"

      To Rand he said, "Time means nothing to a man who knows how to manage it. Tell me of your concerns."

      "It's a rather delicate matter."

      Soames smiled. "Aren't they all."

      A young girl brought the extra glass. Soames filled each glass half full with the whiskey and pushed one across the desk to Rand. "To our friendship," he said, lifting his glass and sipping from it.

      "I see you have a different glass-bearer this time."

      Soames eyebrows inched up. "My usual glass-bearer's husband is very ill. She's taken a few days off."

      "He's more than ill. He's dead."

      Soames smiled. "Of course. You would know. You're with the Dona Ana Sheriff's Department. Carlos' wife works for me as a bookkeeper, nanny, glass bearer, and dear friend," Soames said. "Her husband collected debts for me sometimes. Terribly unfortunate situation."

      "Carlos Uribe killed Nick Hood," Rand said.

      "Oh, I doubt that." Soames looked as if the idea was unthinkable.

      "Yes, and you know all about it."

      "Nonsense!"

      Rand sipped the warm whiskey. Outside the sun was blinding hot, but here in Soames office, with the cooler pushing out humidity along with the cool air, it was another world, insulated, quiet, pleasantly shaded. The only window in the office looked out on the atrium which was shaded by the elms.

      "First of all, I don't work for the Dona Ana County Sheriff's Department. I'm a private investigator. I live in Kern Place, less than a mile from here."

      "Excellent. If I need such services I'll call you." Soames sounded perfectly serious.

      "So far as Joe Navarette is concerned, the case is all cleared up," Rand said. "You could walk in and confess and he wouldn't charge you because he doesn't want to admit he made a mistake. And I have nothing on you. You'll never be called to trial."

      "Or course not, dear man, I'm innocent. Would you like another?" Soames was a fast drinker. He held his empty glass up, then refilled it. Rand thought a contest between Navarette and Soames would be pretty even, but Soames, with all that fat, would undoubtedly win.

      Rand drained his glass and Soames refilled it.

      "Tell me why you didn't have anything to do with it, and I'll tell you why I think you did," Rand said.

      "First of all, I never met Nick Hood. I know he was killed, but how could I have killed him if I never met him?"

      "You knew him," Rand said. "He came up to see you the day before. He told you about the gold bars and showed them to you. He took a couple of bars out of the case at random and threw them on your desk, and you looked at them, scratched them, bit them, and decided they were real gold, which they were. He wanted to sell you all of the bars right then and there, but you told him to come back the next day and you'd have cash for him."

      Soames shook his head. "Any evidence to that effect?"

      Rand shook his head. "Just feels right."

      "If I was going to buy the gold, then why would I have Carlos kill him?"

      "You wanted the gold, and you didn't want to pay for it."

      "That doesn't explain how Carlos would know him. Even the most experienced thug cannot ambush a man unless he can recognize him."

      "You fingered him. You were in the car with Carlos when Nick was shot. And when Bill Brennan and Tom Petrie drove up, Carlos ran back to the car and you drove off."

      "So . . ."

      "So when you came back to El Paso, you told Carlos to rob Brennan and get the gold. Carlos decided to pick up some help along the way so he recruited a broken-down old truck driver and a Mexican farm laborer to help him. After he got the gold he had to kill the two men who helped him or split the loot with them as he promised. He was shooting at the truck driver when the Mexican stove in his skull with a rock."

      Soames looked interested. "Very neat. Go on."

      "That's just about it. You called Navarette because you figured he'd check telephone records, just as I did. You simply said you hadn't met Hood, and - Poof! Navarette went away."

      "I told you I never met Nick Hood."

      Rand smiled. "Of course you did! What difference does it make if you tell the truth? Whatever you say isn't going to hurt you."

      Soames shrugged. He was sweating profusely even though the room was comparatively cool.

      Rand leaned closer to Soames. "You want to know the best part? The gold wasn't real! Did you know that?"

      "Wasn't real?" Soames looked surprised.

      "Except for the two bars you tested, it was all lead. Copper plated lead that had a gold finish over it. You can't just plate lead with gold, you have to plate it with copper first."

      "My goodness!" Soames said.

      "The bars you tested were real gold, though. Absolute solid real honest-to-God gold. He left those at home when he came up to sell you the fakes."

      "All that effort, just to swindle me!" Soames said.

      "Don't flatter yourself. It was a case of cold feet. Nick, his wife, a man named Vandergaard, who made the bars, and a lawyer named Pritchard, were going to sell shares in a company designed to find the gold. They'd raise a couple of hundred thousand, spend a few grand pretending they were looking, and then keep the rest. But Nick decided to go it alone. Once he got your money, he was going to leave his wife and the good folks in Las Cruces forever - start over someplace else with lots of bucks."

      Soames pulled on his lower lip. He shook his head. "Well, in that case the venial little shit got what he deserved, didn't he?"

      "In a way, maybe."

      "Imagine, he intended to cheat me!" Soames was indignant.

      "Well, you had him killed for it."

      "Where's the so-called gold now?"

      "The poor Mexican farmworker was killed by Brennan and Petrie. They tracked him down but they couldn't find the bars. The Mexican's wife and son took them to Juarez."

      "I expect they're in for a disappointment, then."

      "Don't feel too sorry for them. They killed Brennan and Petrie."

      "Well, I had nothing to do with it," Soames said.

      "Say what you want. But there's only one more loose end that I can think of. How did Uribe find Brennan?"

      Soames grinned. "Why it was the simplest thing on earth. The person who was riding in the car with Uribe took down Mr. Brennan's license number while Uribe was driving away. While Mr. Brennan and his friend were trying to lug the box of gold out of Hood's car. Then that same person called the traffic license bureau in Las Cruces and asked whose license number it was. The stupid man I talked to even told me - pardon, told the person who called - how to find Brennan's house '. . . head north on the road to Alamogordo' he said. 'About five miles out, make a right where there's a sign pointing to the Lazy B ranch. That's Brennan's place,' the man said, 'It's about another mile or so down the dirt road'"

      "So you admit your part in this?"

      Soames laughed. "I admit nothing. I'm elucidating. You offer me information; I offer you elucidation. Now, are you going to go running to the cops with this?"

      "Not at all. I just wanted to be sure my theory was correct."

      "Then am I to be blackmailed?"

      "Absolutely not."

      Soames leaned back and killed his drink. "I like you, Rand."

      "Well, I like you, too, Victor."

      "If you . . . or somebody were to try to indict me, you would be unsuccessful, you know. I have a great deal of money. Excellent lawyers. Any blame would come to rest on Uribe."

      "True."

      Rand stood up and Soames heaved himself to his feet and they walked toward the front door.

      "See you around, Victor," Rand said.

      "I'll call you if I have any business for you," Soames said.

      Driving back toward his house and Hannah, Rand started laughing. He didn't think lying was bad when you lied to murderers. He wished he could see the expression on Navarette's face when he told him what really happened. He'd check the whole thing to Joe. Let him do what he wanted. All Rand wanted was to finish his call with one simple sentence.

Cover  •  Contents  •  < PREV Chapter  •  Book Notes  •  Page Top