He winced from pain, looked at the water glass on the tray table. Conklin handed it to Carter and watched while he drank, sputtered, then handed the glass back to Conklin.
Conklin asked, “And what about Samuel Alton? Was killing him in the original plan?”
Carter nodded.
“That’s yes?”
“Yes. It wasn’t anything personal. He was just collateral damage. It had to be done.”
“I see. I understand all that. You had to kill the witness, right?”
Carter nodded, winced, and then closed his eyes.
Conklin said, “Peter. Is that a yes?”
“Yes. For God’s sake, are you thick? I think it’s time for me to take a nap. Where’s Robert?”
Conklin didn’t want to answer that one. Because Robert Murphy was a material witness, Conklin’s team had him in lockup. Sac and Linden were questioning him, but charges had not yet been brought to the table.
Meanwhile, Conklin pressed on with his interrogation. “Peter, Robert will be in to see you later. I’m sure of it. But for now, we have to finish here. Understand?”
“Go ahead, then,” Carter said. “I’m in a lot of pain, man. Let’s get this over with.”
“Good,” said Conklin. “Two more minutes. That’s all.”
Peter asked, “What was the question?”
“The key card,” Conklin said. “We have the key card to Joan’s hotel room. It was in Artie’s possession. How on earth did Artie get that?”
“Right,” said Carter. “That was easy. I went to the Warwick. I paid off the guy at the front desk and told him I just wanted to take pictures. I showed him my camera, and I said, ‘One picture is worth a thousand buckaroos.’ I didn’t have to ask twice. The guy made me a key and even put on this big show of welcoming me to the Warwick. Ha!
“Then I handed that key card off to my buddy Artie. An hour later, he calls and tells me that he’d done the job and that it had gone off perfectly. He was in and out in three minutes. It was such a relief. I figured that after that call, it was all over, except for the funeral, of course. But then, Joan comes home with gunshot wounds. She walks. She talks. She seems to be just about as good as new.”
“Huh,” said Rich. “That must have been a shock for you.”
Carter went on. “She completely wrecked it, man. Everything I’d worked so hard to coordinate. Hey, what’s your name again?”
“Conklin. Inspector Richard Conklin.”
Carter waved his hand as if Conklin’s name was unimportant, after all. He was into his story, though. He wanted to complain.
“The whole situation between me and Robert worked for two years—but then all of a sudden, Joan wouldn’t allow it anymore. Like, who gave her the right to say whether the relationship between me and my boyfriend is okay or not? Look, if you really want to know who was behind all this, it was Joan herself. She was the one who started it. She should have left us alone. Okay? Are we done now?”
Conklin knew it was now or maybe never again. The answer to this question was critical.
“So, Peter, you’re saying that Robert had knowledge of this plan to kill Joan?”
“No, no. I didn’t tell him about that. You gotta be kidding me. She caused it, but it was my plan all along. I figured with Joan out of the way, Robert and I could be happy. I never wanted him to know what I’d done to Joan. Correction, tried to do to her. Honest to God, that’s the whole truth. Robert h
ad absolutely no part in it.”
“Okay,” said Conklin. “I believe you.”
“What happens next?” Peter asked.
“Get some sleep. And then you’ll want to get a good lawyer.”
“Call Robert, will you?”