“Yes sir,” Matheson replied, continuing to look away.
Mike turned to face Phillip. “Do you have anything to say?”
“Nope.”
Rage and disappointment invaded Mike’s mind. The fact the Phillip would steal disappointed him. The fact that he would lie about it and allow Matheson to take the heat enraged him. “Phillip, why do you think we brought you in here?”
“I don’t know. Why did you?”
“Because we think you do have something to say… Now I’m going to give you one more chance to answer. Do you know anything about this?”
“Nope,” Phillip replied without hesitation, continuing his remorseless stare.
Mike turned to face Matheson. “Gary, since you’ve admitted your involvement, and it’s a first offense for you, I’m going to let you keep your job. I’m also prepared to let this remain a secret between us, so long as there’s no repetition of this or any other theft. Of course, all of the stolen money will be deducted from your pay.”
Relieved, Matheson exhaled. “Thank you Mister King. I’m very sorry.”
Again Mike turned to Phillip. “Still nothing to say?”
“Nope.”
Mike pounded the desk with his fist, then sprang to his feet, pushing his chair backward with his legs. “Three times you’ve denied your participation in this scam! Furthermore, you’ve allowed your co-conspirator to take full responsibility for the repayment of the money you helped him steal! In my opinion, what you’ve just done is far worse than stealing the money!”
“There’s no way you can prove I was involved,” Phillip retorted, stone faced.
“That’s probably true, but you and I will always know you were,” Mike retorted, fighting the urge to hit his step-son. “Get out!” he shouted. “Get the hell out of here before I do something I’ll regret!”
Again Phillip smirked, oozing contempt. “You haven’t got the balls.” He turned and left the office, slamming the door with force.
CHAPTER 55
Long Island. Friday, April 6, 1990.
“Not again!” Tina groaned when she entered her living room.
Brian was unconscious and spread-eagled on her green leather couch, his mouth opened wide, drool hardened on his right cheek. His loud snoring meshed with the sound of Dan Rather, delivering the CBS Nightly News on the television set in front of him. Newspapers, magazines and numerous empty beer cans littered the coffee table surface and the floor below the couch.
She moved to the kitchen and winced at the sight of the sink, stacked beyond the brim with unclean dishes. The smell of decaying food boosted her Latin temper to critical mass. “What a pig!” she hissed. She reached into the sink and lifted as many dirty dishes as her arms could carry, then marched back to the living room. She stopped in front of Brian and dropped the dishes on the coffee table. Most of the dishes shattered with a loud crash.
“What the hell!” Brian shouted, jerking himself to an upright position, rubbing his eyes and struggling to focus on Tina.
“How can you live this way?” she screamed, lifting her arms above her head in protest. “Don’t you ever clean anything?” she shouted, kicking beer cans and broken dishes in all directions. “I go out and work my ass off all day and night, and all you ever do is lie around here and live like a pig!”
Brian reached for the large pitcher of water he had left on the floor beside him. He lifted it, took a long drink, then placed it on the table. He glared at Tina with extreme contempt in his bloodshot eyes. “You broads are all the same,” he said hoarsely.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re control freaks, telling me how to live my life. It means you’re no different than my wife.”
Further enraged by the criticism, Tina lifted Brian’s pitcher and threw the remaining water in his face. “I’m not telling you how to live your life! I’m telling you how to live in this apartment! It’s my place and I like to keep it clean! If you can’t live that way, then get the hell out!” she yelled, continuing to kick beer cans and broken dishes in Brian’s direction.
“What a bitch,” he moaned, still intoxicated by the large quantity of beer he had consumed that afternoon. He hoisted himself from the couch and stepped toward Tina, crunching a beer can under his foot. “I must have been out of my mind to think you were different. What the hell is it about broads that makes them think they can control a man’s life? The way I live mine is my business, not yours.”
Tina bared her teeth, then slapped Brian’s face as hard as she could. “Don’t you dare call me a bitch! If this is the way you want to live your life, then do it somewhere else!”
“You may be a bitch, but you’re still the best lay I ever had,” Brian said with a malicious sneer. “How about one more time before I get out of your life? Would a blow job be out of the question?”
“Not with a pig like you,” Tina snorted.
Brian’s lips tightened and his eyes closed to a squint. “Thanks for the memories, bitch!” he said, then cocked his right arm and slapped Tina’s face as hard as he could, the force of the blow knocking her backward but not off her feet.
With anger suppressing pain, Tina stepped forward and tried to hit Brian with her right fist, but Brian’s hand caught her wrist before she could make contact. He squeezed hard. “Go take off your clothes for some other sucker,” he hissed, then hurled her to the couch. He raised the middle finger of his right hand, then turned and hurried from the apartment.
CHAPTER 56
Beer was Brian’s first priority when he entered his apartment thirty minutes later, hoping to find at least one in the refrigerator. “Disaster!” he groaned, finding nothing but a half-emptied bottle of white wine. He extracted it, pulled the cork and took a long pull. His thirst temporarily satisfied, he wiped his lips and placed the bottle on the counter below the telephone. “Reconciliation time, Brian baby,” he declared, then removed Kerri’s note from his wallet and dialed the telephone number.
“May I speak to Kerri, please?”
“Who’s calling?” Andrea asked, her eyes focused on Kerri, no more than five feet away.
“Brian.”
“Please hold for a minute,” Andrea said, then cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s your husband,” she whispered, frowning and shaking her head, attempting to discourage Kerri from accepting the call.
“I’ll take it,” Kerri said, reaching for the receiver.
“You want me to leave?” Andrea asked.
Kerri shook her head, then pushed the hair away from her right ear to make room for the receiver. “Hi,” she said, already experiencing the shame of being unable to suppress her curiosity.
“Kerri, I need to see you tonight? It’s really important.”
“Why?”
“There’s so much I want to say to you… I want to do it in person.”
“Just do it on the telephone.”
“I can’t. I really want to see you… I miss you.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Not a drop,” Brian lied, rolling his eyes. “Please let me see you. I promise I’ll behave myself.”
“Brian, seeing me won’t change a thing. I can’t just sweep the past under the…”
“I’m desperate,” Brian interrupted. “I’m right on the edge. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t see you.”
The tone of Brian’s voice reminded Kerri of the most romantic time she had ever experienced with him, the night they sat in his car on Mount Seymour, near Vancouver, the loving and incredibly persuasive way he asked her to go to New York with him. The memory softened her resolve. “What do you want to talk about? I can’t imagine…”
“Please let me see you, Kerri. I’ll tell you when I get there.”
Kerri remained silent.
“Please,” Brian pleaded. “I can’t begin to tell you how important it is to me.”
“You can’t stay long. I have work to do.”
“I’ll be ther
e in less than thirty minutes.”
“Just ring the doorbell. I’ll come out,” Kerri said, then hung up and stared forlornly at the telephone.
“I don’t believe it,” Andrea said, continuing her frown. “You’re addicted to pain.”
“I won’t let him come in,” Kerri promised, too embarrassed to make eye contact with Andrea. “We’ll talk on the verandah.”
“You know that’s not what I meant. What I can’t understand is why you agreed to see him. I would have told him to screw himself.”
Kerri turned to face Andrea. “Would you understand if I told you I feel sorry for him?”
“How could you possibly feel sorry for a bastard like him? What does he have to do to make you realize he’s a loser?”
“Maybe I’m a slow learner, or maybe there’s a part of me that just can’t let go.”
CHAPTER 57
Kerri opened the door almost an hour later. Conflicting emotions tormented her as she stared at the man she once loved with an intensity she could never forget.
“May I come in?” Brian asked with an awkward smile.
“Let’s talk outside,” Kerri replied. She stepped onto the verandah, a large wooden structure, painted gray and tastefully decorated with white wooden furniture and numerous hanging plants and flowers. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked, glaring into Brian’s puffy and reddened eyes.
“Us,” Brian replied, then reached for Kerri’s hand.
Kerri withdrew her hand from his reach. “Let’s walk,” she said.
The two walked in silence along the sidewalk of the brightly lit and well treed avenue.
“How have you been?” Brian asked, attempting only to break the silence.
Kerri’s lips tightened. “I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to ask me that. I’m also sure you don’t really give a damn how I’ve been. What do you want, Brian?”
Tears appeared in Brian’s bloodshot eyes. “I want us to try again. I miss you and I can’t live without you any more.”
Kerri caught a whiff of wine mixed with toothpaste. “Are you still drinking?” she asked, offering Brian an opportunity to lie.
“I haven’t had a drink for days.”
“What happened between you and that stripper?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m not…”
“Brian, please don’t insult my intelligence. The whole world saw the picture of you with her in The Times.”
Brian looked away. “She’s just a friend. Nothing more.”
A deep and growing sense of revulsion enveloped Kerri as visions of the photographs in Visconti’s report flashed through her mind. “Did you ever make love to her?” she asked, allowing Brian another opportunity to lie.
“No. I told you we’re just friends.”
“Where have you been living?” Kerri asked, offering him one further chance to lie.
Brian’s eyes darted back and forth. “At Billy Maxwell’s, one of my teammates. He’s a defensive back. He has a house in Westhampton Beach.”
The third lie turned revulsion to anger. “We’re both wasting our time,” Kerri said, then turned and marched toward Dennis’s house.
“What did I say?” Brian asked, hurrying to keep up with her brisk pace.
“Nothing,” Kerri hissed, refusing to look at Brian and quickening her pace.
“Bull-shit!” Brian shouted. He raced to catch up, reached around Kerri with both arms and held her against his chest. “What the hell did I say to upset you?”
The vile smell of wine, toothpaste and stale beer sickened Kerri. She struggled to break free. “You’re a goddamned liar!” she screamed. “I can forgive you for your drinking, even for hitting me, but never for cheating and lying.”
“What!”
Kerri ducked under Brian’s grasp, then stood her ground and pointed an accusing finger at him. “There was a time when I worshipped you, Brian Pyper. You were everything to me. I would have given you anything. You abused that commitment, just as much as you abused your God-given talent.”
“You mean you imagine that’s what I did,” Brian retorted.
“How can you stand there and lie about it? That’s the worst transgression of all.”
“How can you stand there and accuse me of cheating and lying?”
“Your breath smells of booze, you’re living with Tina Desouza, and I know she’s more than a friend.”
“How can you be so sure? Did you have me followed?”
Visions of Brian and Tina in Visconti’s photo album swam in her head. She didn’t have him followed, Visconti did. “No, I did not have you followed.”
“Can’t we just forget the past? I love you, Kerri. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Maybe you can sweep the past under the rug, but I can’t.” Kerri turned and headed for Dennis’s house.
Brian made no further attempt to follow. “I’m never going to stop trying, Kerri,” he shouted. “Eventually you’re going to realize you belong to me.”
Andrea had watched from the bedroom window from the moment Kerri left the house with Brian. She raced to the front door. “What happened?” she asked as Kerri entered.
“He can’t accept that it’s over. He really scared me. I saw that same look in his eyes.”
“Where is he? Is he still out there?”
“He owns that black Jaguar out front.”
Andrea opened the curtains no more than an inch and peered through the window. “He’s getting into it now.”
“Would you please tell me when he’s gone?”
The telephone rang, causing Andrea to turn away from the window. “Would you get that, Kerri?” she requested. “I’ll keep watching.”
Kerri entered the den and lifted the receiver. “Hello,” she said, still breathing heavily.
“We belong together, Kerri,” Brian said in an ominous tone. “I’ll follow you forever if I have to.”
Kerri slammed the receiver down, then raced to the front door. “It was him,” she said, then stepped in front of Andrea and yanked the curtains aside. She saw Brian in the front seat of his car, still holding the receiver of his telephone.
“What did he say?”
Kerri closed the curtains and turned to face Andrea, her face almost devoid of color, tears filling her eyes. “He said he’s going to follow me forever. I’m really scared, Andrea. He lied about everything. He wouldn’t even admit he’s been sleeping with that stripper.”
“Did you tell him about Louis’s report?”
“No.”
“Had he been drinking?”
Kerri nodded.
“Maybe I should call the police.”
“No. Let’s wait and see what he does. Maybe he’ll just leave.”
Both looked through the curtains to see the car pull away from the curb, then disappear around the corner.
Andrea turned to face Kerri. “I’m going to tell Miles when he gets home. I’m sure he’s going to want you to get a lawyer. The sooner that man’s out of your life, the better.”
Kerri shook her head. “I can’t afford a lawyer.”
Andrea chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. Brian will pay the bill, one way or another.”
CHAPTER 58
Andrea kissed her husband’s cheek. “How was your day, darling?” she asked, helping to remove his rain soaked coat.
“What do you want, Andrea? You’re usually more subtle than this,” Miles said.
“I want you to talk to Kerri. She could be in trouble.”
Dennis placed his arm around Andrea’s shoulders and led her in the direction of the kitchen. “First I need a drink.”
Andrea was prepared. “In anticipation of that requirement, I have a jug of chilled martinis waiting for you.”
Dennis sat at the counter, took a sip of his first martini, then released a loud gasp. “I feel better already. Now, tell me about Kerri.
Andrea told her husband the story of Brian Pyper’s extraordinary visit with Kerri.
Dennis took another sip and shook his head. “She doesn’t deserve that. She’s too nice a girl… It’s really a shame. She was so much in love when I met her. I can’t believe that jerk screwed up so badly. Is she okay?”
“Who knows?”
“I’m worried about this weekend. We’ll be at the C.B.O.T. Convention, and she’ll be alone here until Sunday night.”
“Maybe I should stay here. Would you be upset?”
Dennis revealed a sly smirk. “Heartbroken. It’s the only time we ever get a chance to go away together. I’ll talk to her now.”
“You really care about her, don’t you?”
Dennis nodded. “I don’t want to see her future destroyed by that idiot she married. She’s brilliant, Andrea. I’ve never seen anyone grasp the fundamentals of the business as quickly as she did. She’s personable too. I think she’s more capable of handling clients that I am.” He finished his martini, headed downstairs and knocked on the door to Kerri’s apartment.
“It’s open,” Kerri shouted.
Dennis entered to see Kerri sitting on her bed, reading and dressed in faded blue jeans and an oversized gray sweater. Bare feet.
“Hi boss,” she said with a big smile, then placed her book beside her.
“Andrea told me what happened tonight. You okay?”
Kerri nodded, but her smile disappeared.
“Andrea and I are leaving town on Friday morning. We’re going to the Chicago Board of Trade Commodities Convention. We’ll be there until Sunday night… Now, under the circumstances, I hate like hell to leave you here alone. Brian could be a problem.”
“Don’t even think about it. I left no doubt in his mind. I told him the marriage was over, and I didn’t want anything more to do with him.”
“That’s great, but he still worries me. Andrea told me he’s decided not to give up, and if that’s the case, then you shouldn’t take it lightly. I’ve heard all kinds of horror stories about rejected lovers and husbands who let their obsessive possessive fantasies obscure reality.”
“Miles, he’s a drunk, a liar and a cheat, but I don’t think he’s crazy.”