“Tell me about the night Adam died.”
Paul took a deep breath. “He set us up beautifully.”
“I know all about that. What happened after he caught you and Carol in bed?”
Paul Duncan rubbed his eyes with his palms. “He went berserk. He started calling Carol names. Awful names. We tried to talk to him, but what could we say? After a while he told her he wanted a divorce and ran out.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went home.”
“Did you stop on the way?”
“No.”
“Anybody who can confirm you were home?”
“I live alone.”
“Anybody who can confirm you were home?” Myron repeated.
“No, dammit. That’s why Carol and I didn’t tell anyone. We knew how it would look.”
“Not good,” Myron agreed.
“I didn’t kill him. I wronged him. I was a terrible friend. But I didn’t kill him.”
Myron gave a small shoulder shrug. “You seem like a pretty good candidate, Paul. You lied about the night of his murder. You were having a long-term affair with his wife, a wife who could marry you only if her husband died. He confronted you two in his bed on the night of the murder. His missing daughter was the only person who knew about your secret liaison. Her photograph appears in a magazine published by your source. No, Paul, I’d say it looks pretty goddamn shitty.”
“I had nothing to do with any of that.”
“What did you do with Kathy’s pictures?”
“I gave them to Adam, of course.”
“Did you keep any for yourself? Maybe as a little souvenir?”
“Of course not!”
“And you never saw any of the pictures again?”
“Never.”
“Yet somehow Kathy’s picture ended up in a porno mag.”
Paul nodded slowly.
“A porno mag published by your buddy Fred Nickler.”
Another nod.
“So now comes the big question, Paul: How did Kathy’s picture end up in Nickler’s magazine?”
Using both arms for leverage Paul Duncan stood. He moved to the television and flicked it off. The junior dancers faded away. The dog did not move. Paul studied the blank screen for a while and then said, “It’s going to sound crazy.”
“I’m listening.”
“Adam arranged it. He put Kathy’s picture in that magazine.”
Myron waited. His spine began to tingle.
“I don’t understand it either,” Paul continued. “Nickler called me yesterday. He was all upset, said you were nosing around and realizing something was up. I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he explained it to me. Adam had told Nickler to put that picture in his magazine. You see, Adam had met Nickler when we were trying to find the photographer’s studio. So Adam went back to him, pretended he was still working on a case with me. He told Nickler to put Kathy’s picture in Gary Grady’s ad. He also told him not to say anything if anybody asked about it—except to give out Gary’s alias and address.”
“Enough clues,” Myron said, “so someone would find Grady.”
“It seems so, yes.”
“Did Nickler tell you why he placed the picture only in Nips?”
“No. I can call and ask him, if you’d like.”
Myron shook his head. “Not necessary.”
“That’s all I know. I can’t for the life of me figure out what Adam was doing. Maybe he wanted to set up Grady. Or maybe he just snapped. But the truth is, I have no idea why Adam would put his own daughter’s picture in that magazine.”
Myron rose. He had a very good idea why.
Chapter 46
Win gazed into the mirror. Despite the fact that the hour was closing in on midnight, his evening was just beginning. He patted his hair, smiled at his reflection, and said, “God, I am handsome.”
Myron grunted.
“Are you going to call Jessica?” Win asked.
“I want to go over it again.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“And make my nubile lass wait?”
“She’ll survive.”
“You don’t understand. This girl is very special to me.”
“What’s her last name?”
Win thought a moment, shrugged. “Okay, what do you wish to review?”
“I’ve told you everything I know,” Myron said. “I want to know how you see it.”
Win turned away from the antique mirror. His Central Park West apartment had been a gift from his grandfather. It was huge, worth millions, and decorated like Versailles. Myron was afraid to touch anything. He was sitting in an antique chair with wooden arms digging into his ribs.
“Do you mind if I break the case down into three separate entities?” Win said.
“Whatever you want.”
“Fine. Then let us begin. Entity one: Kathy Culver’s disappearance. During her senior year of high school, Kathy’s personality changed for reasons her mother has now revealed to you. Kathy then sought to hurt said mother with promiscuity. Ergo the lewd photographs, which Kathy mailed to Carol. But Kathy Culver did not see the danger in her actions. She took for granted that she could just end it whenever she so desired. But that was not the case. When she wanted to stop—when she met Christian, it seems—she could not just backslide out.”
Myron nodded.
“Enter Mr. Junior Horton. He decided to cash in on the new, unsullied Kathy Culver through blackmail. Kathy agreed to pay him in exchange for silence and photographs. On the night in question Mr. Horton called Kathy at her sorority house. She agreed to meet him in the locker room. Once there, she was gang-raped by Junior Horton and several cohorts.”
Win stopped and moved toward a decanter. “Care for a little cognac?”
“No, thanks.”
He poured some into a snifter. “The rape bent her past the breaking point,” he continued. “She snapped. She suddenly craved redemption and justice above all else. So she headed immediately to Dean Gordon’s office to report the attack. Dean Gordon had been her employer, and she probably considered him a friend. She told him what had happened to her in the locker room. His reaction was either superfluous or detrimental to her resolve. Take your pick.”
“Probably detrimental,” Myron added.
“Yes, probably detrimental. Either way, Kathy left Dean Gordon’s house disheartened. She walked around the campus in a sort of catatonic daze, I imagine. Ricky Lane approached her. He apologized and gave her the panties—that is, evidence of the crime against her. After that—who knows? We slam into a big brick wall. The only thing we know for sure is that the panties were found on top of a waste bin several days later. Are there any questions so far?”