The Golden Years

Guess Who Mr. Big Is?

The hospital nurse found a small cut on the head, but no sign of concussion, and Riley was sent home with a small container of painkillers and a dab of alcohol on the cut that stung mightily for a few seconds.

"Are you hungry at all? We haven't had anything since breakfast."

"I think I'd just like to get home. I've got some soup we can have . . . I mean unless you--"

"Soup's fine."

"What do you think will happen now?" Riley touched the sore spot gently.

"As far as this valley is concerned, I think there will be a lot of charges made, a lot of lawyers hired, and a lot of clambering for positions in the local politics."

"What do you mean, this valley?

Eddie steered onto her street, avoiding one stubborn remaining puddle. "Up at Brian's, I heard Jim telling Ashby that whatever it was, a syndicate, a cartel, whatever - it was state wide. I told Garcia, and I'm sure when Brian is interviewed he'll back that up. He told me that the notebook was the Rosetta Stone for unravelling the syndicate tree. They were looking right up to the governor."

Riley just sat without moving when the car stopped in the driveway.

"You okay?"

"Aah- it's just . . . I can't believe Tom started all this when he hired Biggs. Some of these people I've known, Eddie. Shared gatherings with them, met them at events. It doesn't seem real."

"Princess and the pea syndrome."

She rolled her head and stared at him.

"Okay, bad analogy, but you know what I mean."

Her lips shifted in amusement and she got out of the car.

"Riley. Wait."

"What?"

"The door's open . . ."

She stopped, and stared at the front door of her house then at Eddie. "Who--?"

"Let me check. Wait here."

"No, what if--?"

"Just wait, Riley."

He walked cautiously to the front door and stopped, listening, then slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. One light glowed dimly in the living room, and Eddie paused, squinting to make out the shadow of a man seated by the TV.

"Come in, Detective, and call your lady friend in as well."

"Let's hear who you are and what you want first."

"What I want, is what I just asked." The barrel of the gun appeared out of the shadow, and Eddie's hands became fists as he called to Riley.

She came in to stand beside him, concern and confusion marking her face.

"What is it? What's goi--"

Another light came on and she grabbed Eddie tight as she felt him jerk.

"What the- Hiram!"

"Who is he Eddie?" Riley squeezed closer.

"Hiram Glacey." He answered, stunned. "He's- I met him at the hotel. He and his wife--"

"That's all academic now. Sit down, both of you." Hiram waited until they complied. "You should have just stayed a retired detective, Eddie, instead of sticking your nose in where it didn't belong."

"Wha- you told me about Biggs - and Gail! About the cover-up . . ."

"That was to hear what you would say - what you would do."

"Did you work for Jim too?"

The laugh was derisive. "That would be funny. Jim was taken with idea he ran the operation in the valley, but he was just another pawn, and as things turned out, a very expendable one."

"Are you telling me you are the head of this thing?"

"I'm not telling you anything, but you are going to tell me what I want to know or Mrs. Nursewood will pay the price."

Riley folded her arms. "What do you expect to gain now anyway? Everyone's been arrested, the FBI have the notebook that was so important."

"Yes, that was unfortunate. But I would be willing to bet a lot of money that Eddie here, made copies of at least some of the pages." The gun barrel wavered. "Am I right, Detective?" Hiram leaned toward them, the gun bouncing slightly.

"I said before, you were a sharp old boy, Hiram." Riley looked surprised, and Hiram nodded. "But the few I made were electronic, and they went from the library here to my personal account back in Canada."

"You're lying."

"No I'm not, Hiram. I decided, at the time, that I wasn't doing what I came down here to do, and that was relax and forget. I also figured that when I got home it might be fun to have a hobby, so I picked the mystery of the notebook.

"I didn't lie. I emailed the copies to myself back home then put the book back where I found it. I didn't want it burning a hole in my vacation pocket. It was under your nose all the time, Hiram.

"What good are they now?" Riley held her arms out.

"He knows who all the initials belong to." Eddie pulled at his ear. "He can warn them all before the FBI decipher the book or get confessions."

"Very clever, Detective."

"But why were you staying at the hotel? Undercover boss?"

"Biggs somehow got hold of the notebook from Jim's safe. He shouldn't even have had the damn thing." Hiram suddenly opened up. "It was stolen long ago from another party, but since nothing ever came of it, it was forgotten . . . until your husband hired Biggs."

The accusation made Riley flinch, and she struggled to keep from showing fear.

"I was informed and came down to observe. Your husband had to be dealt with and he was, with an arrangement through contacts at the hospital."

Riley gasped, and made a mewling sound, burying her face in her hands.

"The fact that Biggs was staying at the same place he found the book was a jolt." Hiram continued, unfazed. "Ashby was told to get it back and take care of Biggs. Jim couldn't do anything because he would have exposed the fact he had the book in the first place."

Hiram seemed as if he had forgotten what he was doing there. His recollection had carried his attention away from the present and it took on a kind of rambling narrative. Eddie squeezed Riley's hand and nodded at Hiram's glazed look.

"Then things went wrong. First the restaurant, and Ashby's idiotic plan sending his men to Mrs. Nursewood's house. The business with the bank and the subsequent botching of that attempt at finding the book."

"When you showed up, decisions had to be made. Gail was supposed to use her wiles to gain information, and she did when she found you talking with Mrs. Nursewood at the art show. The assumption was that you weren't just a retired detective on vacation."

Eddie edged forward on the seat, closing the gap between himself and Hiram, making sure he didn't interrupt the old man's speech. Hiram continued with the killing and disposal of Gail, then the arrivals of the State Police and the FBI.

"It was ruined. Years of building an organization here ruined in just a few short days."

Hiram's head came around to face Eddie at the same time Eddie snatched at the gun.