A Gambling Man by David Baldacci (ebook audio reader .txt) 📕

“About twenty minutes after I got back here, I heard a car pull up real quiet like. I looked out the window. They had stopped right near the garage. Two men got out and went over to Mr. Drake’s bedroom door. They opened it, but didn’t go inside. But I saw a light flashing around.”

Archer said, “That’s why we only saw one set of footprints—Bobby’s.”

Bobby said, “Then they closed the door and got in their car and drove off.”

“Two big lugs with stupid faces?” said Dash.

“Yeah, that’s right. I saw ’em clear enough in the light next to the garage door.”

“Hank and Tony,” said Archer. “They were here.”

Dash edged over to him and spoke in a low voice, “That’s why they took Kemper, Archer. With Drake dead, Kemper is the mayor. Armstrong can’t have that.”

“So Drake must have called Armstrong and told him what he was going to do? That’s why you mentioned back there about him maybe calling somebody?”

“And the two goons came here to make sure Drake wasn’t bluffing. See, that was the ace in the hole Drake always had. Armstrong just figured he’d never play it, because it meant Drake would end up six feet under. But old Drake had his principles and he was apparently sticking to them. He wasn’t going to be Armstrong’s rubber stamp, no sir. Gotta admire the guy for that. I would like to think he died with that thought in mind and a smile on his lips.”

He turned back to Bobby. “Drake ever talk to you about the campaign for mayor or Sawyer Armstrong?”

“No sir. We never talked about stuff like that.”

“Okay, you got somewhere you can go, or people you can stay with?”

Bobby shook his head. “I…ran away from home a few years ago when…” He looked at them anxiously.

“Yeah, I understand. Okay, Ruthie knows that Drake is dead. She knows we came over to speak with you. For now, you just play dumb, okay? You don’t know anything. You got that, Bobby?”

“S-sure, okay. Hey, mister, with Mr. Drake dead, will I…will I have to leave here? I don’t have no other place to go.”

Dash looked uncomfortable. “I could lie to you, son, and say you can stay here for as long as you want. But fact is, Bobby, I have no idea. But for right now, you can stay, okay?”

“O-okay, thanks.” He looked past them and out the window toward the house. “He was a really nice man. He treated me okay, he really did.” He wiped his face on the sheet again, but it came away looking as tear-streaked as before.

“Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end sometime,” noted Dash. “And for some people in this town, all I see are bad times coming.”

Chapter 67

ARCHER AND DASH PULLED AWAY IN THE DELAHAYE as the dawn kept creeping up on them.

Archer said, “Where would they have taken Kemper? And what’s Armstrong’s game? How is he going to get out of this one?”

“From his point of view, he’s home free. He just has to get rid of Kemper, and his star keeps shining bright. No one will ever point their finger at him. Kemper was his beloved son-in-law. Armstrong was supporting his campaign. He loved and respected the man. He shows up after he gets arrested and tells you to do all you can to save the man. He’ll cry some crocodile tears when and if they find his body, and that’ll be it.”

“But if we find out that he was the one who snatched Kemper?”

“He’ll be nowhere near that, Archer, with an unshakable alibi. And he won’t have used Hank and Tony. Some boys from out of town were no doubt paid to do the job and keep their mouths shut later.”

“So what do we do, then?”

“We find Kemper.”

“He could be anywhere, though.”

Dash looked at him and smiled. “I think we need to go to the hospital.”

“But Ernie Prettyman is unconscious. He can’t tell us anything.”

“This has nothing to do with Ern. I just want to prove to myself that Armstrong isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.”

*  *  *

Bay Town General Hospital was a large, whitewashed building, four stories tall, with lots of windows, a flat face, and no interesting architectural elements. It looked about as appealing to enter as a morgue. At least to Archer.

“Look here, Archer, while I’m in here checking things out, I want you to go to the Occidental Building and see if Beth Kemper is there. You said she has an apartment there. It’s only one block over in that direction.” He pointed to his right.

“Beth? Why would she be there?”

“For some reason I don’t think she wants to be anyplace right now that has an A on the gates.”

“You think she knows her husband’s been taken?”

“Doubtful. So I want you to tell her. And then I want you to persuade her to throw in her lot with us. She needs to tell us where Armstrong might have taken her hubby.”

“You think she’ll tell us?”

“Depends on how persuasive you are.”

Archer dropped Dash off, and Dash told Archer he would meet him at the Occidental as soon as he could.

Then Archer parked the Delahaye at the curb and got out. He stared up at the façade of the Occidental Building. It was constructed of white and brown slabs of stone with emerald-green slashes thrown in, probably to make the architect happy. A long burgundy awning was emblazoned with the name of the place in case the two-foot-high chrome letters on the side of the building weren’t clear enough. There was a doorman out front wearing a black top hat, and a long coat the same color as the awning with brass buttons and a vest the color of a British redcoat. Long, white gloves covered his hands. A cab whistle dangled on a chain around his neck. To Archer, the man looked as embarrassed as he probably felt wearing that get-up.

He walked over to the man