Memory Man

Decker had no idea if this was true, but he suspected that it was. That outflow of cash from the Wyatts’ account had to have gone somewhere. And he doubted that Leopold would want the “heir” around to find out. When he looked at Leopold the expression on the man’s face told him that he was right.

Decker said, “And did he tell you that his family was murdered? Wife and daughter?”

“They were murdered,” said Wyatt.

“Yes, they were.”

“By cops.”

“No, not by cops. He killed them.”

Decker heard the hammer of the gun being pulled back.

“You’re full of shit. You’re lying!” screamed Wyatt.

Anger, lack of control, that’s good. To a point.

Decker slowly shook his head. “I read the file. I looked at the pictures of the corpses. They were both strangled to death. By hanging. At the napes of their necks where the ligature compressed the life out of them they found a very unusual mark. It was nearly identical on both. The Austrian police didn’t know what it was. They were baffled because the killer had cut the victims down and taken the rope with him. They were baffled because they never suspected Leopold. Lucky guy had another ironclad alibi provided by a couple of buddies who swore he was in Germany at the time. If they had suspected Leopold and done some digging they probably would have arrived at the truth behind the mark.”

Decker felt the gun muzzle against his head.

Leopold said, “You said you’ve died twice? Well, they say the third time ist the charm.”

Decker kept going. “I had seen that mark before. It was in a book I read and, of course, never forgot, because we can never forget anything, can we, Belinda? Like you said.” He paused and studied her. When she seemed about to speak he said sharply, “It’s called a double constrictor knot. It’s like a clove hitch but with an overhand knot under two riding turns. I actually practiced tying it on the flight back from Utah. I discovered that it’s nearly impossible to untie once the knot is set. In fact, it’s one of the most effective binding knots in the world. Been around at least since the 1860s. It’s also called the gunner’s knot.” He glanced at Leopold. “Every sailor worth his salt knows how to tie that knot. And before your friend here was on submarines, he grew up sailing with his father, who was a fisherman working in the Adriatic Sea six months out of the year.” He looked at Wyatt. “I can keep going. As you know, it’s all in my head. Every fact, every detail.”

“Submarines?” said Leopold contemptuously. “Austria doesn’t have a navy.”

“No, but Russia does. Which is where you went to live when you were nineteen. You were kicked out of the Russian navy for stealing from your fellow sailors. It took me the longest time to pin down your accent. Because it’s a blend. Austrian, Russian, with an overlay of English.” He glanced sideways at Leopold. “Ist good, Herr Leopold? You said it at the bar. And you said it again just a minute ago. Maybe you didn’t even realize?”

Leopold struck him on the side of the head with the gun.

Decker slumped over.

Now his leg and his head were hurting like a bitch. His tolerance for pain was greater than most. You didn’t play football for as long as he had without being able to take pain. But a bullet to the head would not be painful. He would just be dead.

He looked up at Wyatt, who was looking at Leopold. Decker couldn’t see Leopold’s face, so he didn’t know where he was looking. But the gun was now pressed against his temple.

“You see the lump on his neck, Belinda? I think the guy is terminal and doesn’t give a shit what he does. He’s also a druggie. And needs money for that. And I think he likes to make other people do things. I think he’s a con man who likes to take people who are in desperate circumstances and screw with them. And if he makes millions in the process, like he did with you, so much the better.”

“Sebastian?” said Wyatt weakly.

That was not what Decker wanted to hear. That was not going to cut it.

“He’s full of shit,” said Leopold.

That was also not going to cut it.

Decker barked, “You killed all those people, Belinda. But there were gaps. Nearly twenty years go by and then you kidnap Giles Evers. Then you come and kill my family. Who was next? Your parents? Chris Sizemore? Then a gap. Then Mansfield. And then Nora Lafferty.”

“And now you,” snarled Leopold.