Double

“I need to talk to you about Elaine. It seems she had discovered some illegal goings-on at the Casa del Rey shortly before her death. She’d written a letter to her lawyer.”

Ibarcena’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. “What was in that letter?”

“She detailed the things that were going on,” I lied.

“And what were they?”

“Things about Nancy and Timmy Clark, for instance.”

Ibarcena paled under his tan and drew back. His eyes darted from me to Roger, and he ran his tongue over his lips.

When he didn’t speak, I added, “It was very convenient for you and Lloyd Beddoes that Elaine was killed when she was, wasn’t it?”

Roger gave a sort of a squeak. Ibarcena glanced anxiously at him. In a moment, he cleared his throat and said, “Is what you are saying that Mr. Beddoes or I had something to do with Ms. Picard’s accident?” His accent had become thicker and he stumbled over the question.

“For an accident, it was very good timing.”

Ibarcena stiffened and stood up. “I do not like what you are hinting at, Ms. McCone. And I do not feel that I owe you any answer whatsoever. But to clear your mind of these suspicions, I think I should tell you that Mr. Beddoes and I were together in his office at the time of Ms. Picard’s accident.”

I remained sitting. “Again, it’s convenient.”

“Our secretary has confirmed this to the sheriffs men.”

“Then you’re in the clear.”

“There is nothing to be ‘in the clear’ about. Ms. Picard either threw herself off that tower or fell by accident.”

“Tell me about Nancy and Timmy Clark, Mr. Ibarcena.”

His face went red and he made a move as if to pull me to my feet, but at that moment footsteps sounded outside on the walkway. Lloyd Beddoes’s voice called Ibarcena’s name, and then Beddoes began pounding on the door.

Ibarcena flung out his arms in a gesture of despair. Behind me, Roger said, “It’s the old switch-hitter himself.”

“Be quiet.” Ibarcena went to the door and opened it. Beddoes stood there, looking disheveled and hot. His thick blond hair was rumpled, as if he’d been clawing at it with his fingers.

“Come in, Lloyd,” Ibarcena said calmly. “Do not try to break the door.”

Beddoes half stumbled into the room. First he caught sight of me and he gaped. Then he spotted Roger. He turned to Ibarcena, shaking his head from side to side. “How could you, Victor? After everything? After all we’ve been?”

“Get Mr. Beddoes a drink, Roger,” Ibarcena said. “It will calm him.”

Roger started toward the tray he’d brought in earlier, but a furious look from Beddoes stopped him. The young man glanced around, as if looking for a place to hide, and then he stood still.

“Lloyd,” Ibarcena said, “you must sit down and try to relax. Scenes like this are not good for your heart.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my heart.”

“At your age...” Ibarcena shrugged.

I was amazed that Beddoes — the “fine figure” of a man, as June Paxton had said — was gay. Or was he? Roger had called him a “switch-hitter.” But what really surprised me was the change in Victor Ibarcena. A moment ago, he’d practically been cringing under my none too subtle accusations. Now he was cool, totally in control. A nasty light glinted in his eyes as he looked at Beddoes — something almost sadistic. He’d been Beddoes’s lover, and now he was relishing the idea of casting him off for a mere boy.

Beddoes remained standing. “After all we’ve been to one another, I can’t believe you’d take on this...”

“After all we’ve been, Lloyd?” Ibarcena’s voice was cutting, and he smiled. “You make yourself sound the model of fidelity. Must I remind you of your jaunts to that house of ill repute? At least I didn’t go with a woman.”

Beddoes backed up, blinking. “That wasn’t—”

“Wasn’t what?” Now Ibarcena advanced on him.

“It’s only... It doesn’t mean...”

“Do not tell me what it means. You have been having it both ways too long, Lloyd. And I am sick of it.” Ibarcena glanced back at Roger, who still stood frozen. “Now I will not have to put up with you any longer.”

Beddoes’s face crumpled, and for a moment I thought he might cry. He made a strangled sound, then turned and fled from the room.

Ibarcena looked at me. “I suggest you follow him, Ms. McCone.”

“So you and Beddoes were lovers. How’s this going to affect your job?”

He came at me suddenly, grabbing my arm with bruising fingers. “I said, get out!”

He dragged me toward the door and shoved me through it, his face contorted with fury. I stumbled over the sill and almost fell into the juniper hedge. Ibarcena slammed the door, and the dead bolt turned. Inside, his voice was raised in wordless ranting.

I stood rubbing my arm. The man was certainly subject to sudden mood shifts. I was willing to bet poor Roger was still standing there as if he were playing Statues. And Lloyd Beddoes was nowhere to be seen.

22: “Wolf”