Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 116, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 709 & 710, September/October 2000

Nash grunted quietly. “I doubt if you can find anything cheaper. What we probably need to do is move in together. Find something nicer for both of us.”

“Even if we did,” Stella reasoned, “it wouldn’t be all that nicer. It’s not like you earn big money either. What we probably should do is both find better jobs, with bigger companies that pay more.”

“I’d hate to do that,” Jack objected quietly. “I’ve put in a lot of years with California All-Risk. Sam keeps telling me I’m next in line for the claims director job. That would pay me about thirty thousand a year more. We’d be okay once I get that job.”

“If you ever get it,” Stella pointed out. “Spear is the type to keep dangling it in front of you for years.”

Jack sighed quietly and they fell into silence again. Then presently he said, “I’ll be gone again tomorrow night. Back over to Nevada on the Tenney claim.”

Stella sighed also. “Well, if you’re not going to be here, you’ll have to give me a little something to tide me over.”

She began to rub herself against his thigh and brought her playful fingers down from his ear.

Just before noon, two mornings later, Nash walked into Sam Spear’s office with a report file in his hand. The claims director was getting his presentation together for a one o’clock meeting with the company’s officers to make a decision on the Tenney claim.

“Well?” Spear asked. “Did you go up to Carson City?”

“Yes. Came back on the six o’clock commuter this morning.”

“See the rendezvous at the Top Dollar Motel?”

“I saw it.”

“Good, good.” Spear chuckled as he organized his papers. “This will be the biggest feather in my cap yet, getting this claim denied. They’ll probably hang an oil painting of me in the lobby after I retire.”

“Just when do you think that might be, Sam? Your retirement?” Spear feigned a cheerless expression. “If it was up to me, my boy, I’d pack it in right now, turn the job over to you. But after today, the company’s officers probably wouldn’t even consider letting me retire. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they offered me a five-year employment contract, with a guaranteed salary increase every year. And more stock options, too. I think I’ve earned that.” He paused and looked solemnly at Nash for a moment. “You know, my boy, the work I’ve done to get this Tenney claim denied is kind of like that fellow — what was his name, Noel? — who built the ark or whatever it was and saved mankind. I’ve saved this company, Jack. I’m kind of like, what do you call it, a saint.”

“So you won’t be retiring anytime soon, then?”

“Afraid not, Jack. It’s just not in the cards right now. But don’t worry, your time will come. One of these days.”

Sure, Nash thought. One of these days.

“I’ll see you later, Sam,” he said.

“Right. I’ll let you know how the meeting goes.” Spear smiled widely and pointed to the report file in Nash’s hand. “That for me?”

“No, not for you, Sam. See you later.”

Shortly before two, a pale, stunned Sam Spear walked into Nash’s office and dropped heavily into a chair.

“They — turned down my recommendation,” he said in disbelief. “The directors — asked me to — to retire.”

“I guess,” Nash said quietly, “they didn’t want the company to accuse two people of a murder that couldn’t be proved.”

“Couldn’t be — proved? What do you mean?”

“I mean Richard Tenney’s not dead, Sam. He’s not at the bottom of Ghost Lake. He was probably never even on the plane.”

“What!”

“This was — never a murder, Sam. It was a big shuffle, all right, but it was just a good, old-fashioned insurance-fraud scam. Tenney was in on it; as a matter of fact, he might even have planned it. One of the things I learned from talking to neighbors and coworkers was that he never liked his job. Snooping around for oil deposits didn’t suit him. He dreamed about going to South America and exploring ancient archeological sites, visiting the ice shelves of Antarctica and looking at rocks that were millions of years old, searching for prehistoric bones in the Himalayas. For that kind of life, a person needs financial independence. The kind of financial independence you can get from two million dollars wisely invested.”

“Two million?”

“Yeah, I figure Cliff Logan was in for half. After all, he took the major risk, crash landing on that lake and all. He put his life on the line so I imagine the four million was going to be cut down the middle.”

“Where did you get all this information?” Spear demanded.