“I’m afraid we have a problem,” I said.
They looked instantly worried.
“News has leaked out about this—accident,” I said. “Do either of you have cell phones on your persons?”
Sagging jaws. They blinked and looked confused.
“We didn’t call anyone, Mr. Draith.”
I nodded as if I didn’t believe a word they said. “I see. Well, it doesn’t really matter. The call records are all there in the system, aren’t they? We’ll find out in the end. In any case, I need to talk to Mr. Rostok.”
“That’s not possible—”
“It’s not only possible, it needs to happen now. If you don’t want a news wagon out there in the valet parking with a satellite uplink to Los Angeles, I’d suggest you cooperate and quit trying to cover your tracks.”
“We aren’t covering up anything,” Mr. Mustache said. “We didn’t call anyone—did you, Nate?”
Nate shook his head. His eyes were big and scared.
“If corpses can’t be neatly disposed of, a guilty party must be found. Can either of you two gentlemen guess who that might turn out to be in this situation?”
Confusion on their faces was replaced by panic. “Right this way, Mr. Draith.”
They put me on a private elevator to the top floor. After crossing an empty lobby, I found myself in front of a familiar door. It opened at my approach. As before, no one greeted me at first. I took a confident step forward into the darkened room and stood calmly.
“Can I sit down while my eyes adjust, Mr. Rostok?”
“You may indeed, Mr. Draith,” came the rumbling response. “You’ve changed, haven’t you? Death stalks you, and it has built character where there was none before.”
Not quite sure what he was getting at, I felt in front of me until I found the chair I’d sat in previously. I put my butt in the seat and peered into the gloom. The LED lights were there, I could see them faintly all around me. I thought to myself I should bring a flashlight next time I came to visit this reclusive man.
“I’m through with riddles, if that’s what you mean,” I said. “Let’s cut the crap, shall we? Ezzie killed Bernie. The evidence is clear. You called McKesson to clean up the mess. Must be nice to have the police so terrified of unexplainable deaths they are willing to clean up your messes for you.”
“It is convenient.” Rostok chuckled. “But Ezzie didn’t kill anyone. She’s old now, you see. Her kind become larger and cooler as they age. You would have smelled burnt carpet the first time you met her in this room if she’d been hot enough to hurt anyone.”
“Hmm. I suppose you have a point there. But it was definitely one of her kind. Are you denying involvement?”
“Tell me, is this Bernie person your golfing partner? Or perhaps a friend you get drunk with? Have you two exchanged your most private sorrows?”
“Far from it.”
“Then why are you so interested in how he died? It’s not your job. You’re not really a detective.”
I snorted. “I think I’m a better investigator than McKesson. He is the opposite of a detective. Rather than seeking truth, he’s a master of deceit. But I’ll tell you why I’m interested. Because everyone I seem to get close to—dies. They all die in bizarre, usually horrible ways. Wouldn’t you want to know who was behind such murders?”
Rostok moved, standing up and walking past me. I saw his hulking shadow and heard his footsteps upon the carpet. Then I heard ice cubes falling into a glass. “Would you like a drink?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“I suppose I would want to understand what was happening to me in your situation,” he said. “But the answers aren’t here for you. In fact, your arrival here a second time might endanger my life as well.”
“More riddles? Is that all you have for me?”
Liquids filled a glass I couldn’t see. Ice tinkled and clicked.
“Reach out your hand,” he said.
I did so, and a glass was pressed into my palm. I brought it to my nose to identify the beverage. It was vodka with some cream flavorings. I sipped it and found it pleasant. Unsurprisingly, Rostok drank the pricey stuff.
“Have you ever heard of Indian Springs?” he asked.
“No. Have you ever heard of Howard Hughes?”
Rostok laughed at that, the first real laugh I’d heard from him. “Say what you will, but my paranoia has served me well,” he said.
“Tell me about Indian Springs, then.”
“It’s a small town less than a hundred kilometers north of here. Just beyond that, they set off more nuclear tests than anywhere else in the world. There have been about two thousand such tests in all history, and nine hundred and fifty-one of them were performed very near Las Vegas. Did you know that?”