Читать книгу Death in October - Lowell Inc. Green - Страница 25

Grant slammed the receiver down. Fifteen minutes to six. His daughter might have only two more hours to live, and for all his contacts, and all his fame, he couldn’t do a bloody thing to prevent it. He sank to his knees in the hallway and pounded the carpeted floor with his fists in rage and frustration.

He was thus occupied when Jake strode through the door and took hold of the back of his shirt, lifting him.

“Grant, it’s time for you and me to take a little walk,” he said. Rage barely under control, Grant followed him out the door and down the pathway to the lawn and the crickets.

Out of earshot of the house, Jake began to speak in a low, excited voice.

“Don’t look around, don’t do anything or say anything loud. I don’t want those two Dick Tracys in the house to hear or see anything to make them suspicious. They’ve probably got their noses stuffed right up that little rat-faced bastard’s ass. Grant...I have a copy of the recording we’re supposed to play tonight!”

Despite the warning, Grant stopped abruptly and spun around to face him.

“What...!”

“Turn around and keep walking,” Jake whispered urgently. “Nothing happened to my mother. She’s fine. It was all a ruse to get me to the hospital. When I arrived, there was an envelope waiting for me with a dub of the recording and a note telling me Boisvert and his buddies had vetoed the original. The instructions are that this one is to be delivered secretly to the radio station in time for the eight pm broadcast.”

Relief washed over Grant. His mind began to race as it always did just before airtime. “Jake,” he said glancing at his watch, “we can figure out just what kind of game is being played here later, but right now we don’t have any time to waste. I’ve got to reach Dennis Lessing right away and persuade him to go to air with this tape despite any warnings he’s had about the CRTC. Do these guys here know your mother isn’t injured?”

Jake shook his head.

“They’d have no way of knowing that. What do you have in mind?”

Excitement began to sound in Grant’s voice as he glanced at his watch again. “We’re going back into the house and announce that your mother isn’t well at all and I’m going with you to see her. The two cops will likely buy it. Unfortunately, we can’t risk telling Carol the truth. Her nerves are so shot, I’m afraid she might blow it, so I’m going to have to convince her your mother is in such bad shape, that despite Lee, I have to see her. You play along, say I’m executor of her will, or something, then we’ll get the hell out of here, and call Lessing and get the recording on the air before Boisvert gets wise.”

Convincing the two detectives and Carol wasn’t difficult. Carol was so distraught she scarcely heard what he was saying. The detectives had found some of Grant’s old Playboy magazines and could have cared less.

Convincing Lessing was another matter. Sandra Beale had told him the recording was to be played, come hell or high water, but she had also expressed concern over the reaction of the CRTC. She couldn’t be reached, having caught an early flight to Toronto and still in the air, so the decision was all Lessing’s, and with Boisvert’s threat of CRTC censure hanging over his head, he was having difficulty making it. It was Jake who convinced him.

“Let me talk to him,” he motioned to Grant, as Lessing continued vacillating on the phone. Shrugging his shoulders, Grant handed the phone to Jake, who pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. “Out” he ordered. “I need to talk to this guy alone.” Puzzled but too tired to argue, Grant stood at the side of the road watching as Jake spoke animatedly for a few moments in low voice. It didn’t take him long. Flipping the passenger door open, he gave Grant the thumbs up and a big smile.

“Bingo. Let’s go.”

As they sped south towards Ottawa Jake claimed all he’d done was assure Lessing the Ottawa police would back him in his decision to play the tape. The truth was, he’d provided Lessing with a brief but very graphic description of what was likely to happen to Lee if the tape wasn’t played. His recapitulation of a gang rape and murder he’d investigated only a month ago had Lessing very close to nausea.

Jake was concerned that some of Boisvert’s men might be watching the radio station, but circling the building twice they noticed nothing unusual. David Parsons, alerted by Lessing, met them at the door. The general manager was having some difficulty reconciling his obligation to express grave concern over the fate of Grant’s daughter while being absolutely ecstatic at the prospect of having something like this land in his lap only a week prior to the fall ratings.

At three minutes to eight, Jake called the newly installed private number at the “chateau” and briefly explained to an incredulous but relieved Carol what had happened.

“All hell is likely to break loose,” Jake told her. “The press will invade the place up there as soon as this is broadcast, and Boisvert and his boys may go a little snaky. We’re not going back up to the “chateau” tonight. Grant says to meet us at the motel where you and he used to spend your birthdays. Leave as quickly as possible. If anyone follows and you can’t shake them, go to your mother’s house instead, and we’ll get in touch with you in the morning. And Carol...”

“Yes?”

“Lee is going to be all right. We’re going to find her.”

“Oh Jake,” she whispered in a small, tearful voice, “I’m so afraid.”