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Story: The Lemon Drop Kid
He said coolly, “Of course not. This isn’t an accidental death. This is an obvious case of suicide. A distraught, emotionally unbalanced young man, unable to cope with the pain and shame of his incarceration—and the loss of his beloved sister—tragically takes his own life. I’ve already expressed my fears over your rapidly deteriorating mental health to Mike Baer and to Dr. Marlowe. They didn’t question the idea at all. In fact, Dr. Marlowe believes a serious breakdown had to be anticipated.” His smile was ever-so-slightly spiteful. “You did yourself no favors giving that interview, Casper.”
I said nothing. I’d already discussed with Mike Baer Malcolm’s difficulty accepting my refusal to hand over the directorship.
Malcolm’s sigh sounded genuinely regretful. “Whycouldn’t you just cooperate, Casper? This is the last thing I wanted.”
“Apparently not.”
He shook his head. “You’re wrong, I’ve always been fond of you. I was horrified when you were arrested. It’s not as though I’d tried to frame you. I didn’t want that. I was relieved when you were released. I know you never had any interest in running Bredahl. I was taking nothing from you. Nothing. Even when you started talking about selling, I was willing to find an alternative to-to…”
“Murdering me?” I asked politely.
His face tightened. “Youpushed this outcome. If you had simply accepted that you need a rest, a break from everything, I’d have happily made sure you were well taken care of until I could fix the situation. Then you could have come home and everything would have been all right.”
“How were you planning to fix twenty million dollars going missing?”
He let out a long, aggravated sigh. “She did tell you then.”
“Bente? Hell no. How would she know that? Raleigh’s been looking into Astrid’s death. I’m telling you the truth. I didnotmeet with Bente. I swear to God. You don’t need to do anything to Bente. I met with Raleigh, and he knowseverything. He knows everything I know, and he’s already requested a warrant for your arrest. So, this is pointless. It’s over. Whether you know it or not.”
“Bullshit. Pour the pills in the glass.”
I took a steadying breath. “You may as well shoot me. I’m not going to drink that.”
“Yes. You will,” he said coolly. “Or, regretfully, Iwillshoot you. I’ll claim you lost your mind, accused me of murdering your sister, and attacked me. I had no choice.”
“Malcolm, you’re not listening. The policedon’tbelieve Astrid killed herself. They sure as hell aren’t going to believe Ialsoconveniently committed suicide. They know you embezzled twenty million dollars. You don’t think they’ll see a connection?”
He frowned, considered, said firmly, “They don’t have any proof.”
My jaw dropped. “I’m pretty sure they can get the proof.” Even as I said it, I realized I was wasting my breath. Maybe getting away with two murders had convinced Malcolm he was bulletproof. Hesoundedrational—sort of—but he was not. The best I could hope for was keep him talking until I could make a grab for the rifle.
I popped the lid off the sleeping pills, poured them into the martini, and said, “You know what hurts? I really thought you loved Astrid.”
Thatgot to him.
“Ididlove her!” Malcolm sounded outraged. “Your sister was myworld. My life is hell now. I’d have doneanythingnot to-to have to lose her like that.”
Did he really not hear himself? “If you’d have done anything, she’d still be with us.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped. “She gave me no choice.”
“That seems to happen to you a lot.”.
He didn’t get mad. Instead, he seemed to want to persuade me to seeing things his way, saying earnestly, “If I’d had a little more time, I could have figured out how to pay the money back. No one would have had to know. She could have given me that time. It’sourcompany. Instead, she insisted we would have to pay the money back out of our savings and investments. She wanted to liquidate our retirement! I worked for that money! I busted my butt foryears. I earned every penny of that.”
Good old Malcolm turned out to be a total sociopath. And none of us had ever had a clue.
“She told me that I would have toresign. That once you were released,shewould resign as well.”
Someone knocked quietly on the front door. “Caz?” Raleigh called. His voice sounded muffled through the wood.
Malcolm went rigid, swung the rifled toward the door, and I launched myself out of the chair and grabbed for the rifle. Malcolm half-turned, trying to twist the rifle out of my grip. As the long barrel swung up, the gun went off, blasting a hole through the ceiling. Plaster rained down on us.
I shouted, “Raleigh…” while still wrestling for the rifle.
Behind me, the cottage door burst open as I managed to wrest the rifle from Malcolm. I swung the butt down with all my strength and hit him in the face. He went down like a building getting slammed by a wrecking ball, slumping onto the sofa, then spilling onto the floor.
“Jesus Christ.” Raleigh reached me, weapon trained on Malcolm’s prone body. He grabbed my arm, examining from head to toe. “You’re not shot? You’re okay?”
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