THE FERAL STRUT

Chapter 27

It took a while to get Ginger cleaned up and calmed down. But she joined them at the table, pale and grave.

"I bet a lot of people felt that way," Slim said, "when they read in the Scout that there were secret cameras all over that house. No wonder Bud's phone was buzzing. Anyhow, let's get back to work." He pointed to his map.

"Okay. I think we can assume that Bullivant threatened your folks, together or separately. Who else?"

"Spider—" Gin said. "He lived with Christy for a while and they're still pretty tight."

He drew another circle, marked S. S. "How's he sit with these other folks?"

"He's worked for Dad for, like, years. Mutual dislike, but restrained. Hates the Don, I think."

Mary chimed in: "I heard the Spiderman and Christy arguing at the Park Café. She was trying to get some favor— I think it was about the Don."

"Any idea what?"

"Didn't catch that part. I had to fetch an order of nachos for some drunks."

He shifted his gaze to Ginger. "What about your father?" He drew a circle and marked it TR.

Ginger got a spooked look, then bit her lip. "He's my Dad, but—"

"Just trying to work out what's actually happened."

"Right— well, Dad inherited, like, a horrendous amount of money. And he's totally clueless. So he's used to taking advice."

"Go on."

"He met the Don in Aspen. Got talked into buying the Ski Village here. Then the Don showed up with this invention: plastic staples to close surgical incisions, quicker than stitches. So Dad called in some of his friends and they set up a company."

"Surgi-Plast."

"Right. Except it turned out that the Don had snaked the idea from the guy who really invented it. He had this scam— Patent Your Invention for $49.95— with ads all over the place. They'd take out their own patents on the best stuff and send back form letters with full refunds. Who could complain?"

"Interesting." Stroking his chin, Slim was a hybrid of Sam Spade and a frog.

"So, the guy who invented it— he was a veterinarian— tried to sue, or something. The Don— got him locked up."

"How?"

"I don't know. But I remember hearing the Don say to my Mom that the poor dumb bastard was out of the picture. She was pretty upset. I wonder—"

"What?"

"If that's why Mom is— how she is. Besides the videos and stuff. I don't remember her putting up a fight."

'So this was some time ago? Remember the guy's name?"

"No idea. I don't think Dad ever mentioned it."

He drew a dotted circle at one corner of the the sheet and put a ? inside, with a dotted line connecting it to the center.

"Okay." Slim stood up and stretched, then sat down again. "One big question is— given that the guy you saw is Bullivant, why is he still here? Why not on a yacht someplace? Or in Switzerland?"

"I think he's in deep shit everywhere." Ginger said in a quiet voice. "Dad's been talking to lawyers from all over the place. London. Geneva. Hong Kong."

Mary glanced at Slim, wondering if they should mention the folio. He gave his head a micro-shake.

"Mister B. might not have the juice— the influence— he's got here in Happy Valley. And with those tapes from the vault, he's got even more."

"True." Mary said. "On a yacht, he'd be pretty cut-off. I'll bet he's been, like, sneaking around and threatening people. Like he did with your Mom. And Christy."

Ginger nodded. "He said there'd be someone waiting for her in the parking lot at Kelly. And there wasn't."

"Just before she nailed him, she said he was losing his grip."

"Maybe. Did you know she blew town?" Slim said. "The same night?"

"Really?" Ginger sniffed. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Little birdie."