Free The Searcher by Christopher Morgan Jones Page B

easily, and it would be like the bastard to get himself killed this week.
    â€œYou want me to come over?”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œSure. You know where he was staying?”
    The man’s capacity for chaos was phenomenal. First he destroys my company and now he’s doing his best to finish his family.
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    E lsa hadn’t been harassed earlier, he realized, so much as anxious. When she opened the door to him now she was smiling, but the shine had gone from her eyes, and the familiar sense of cool command was missing. He kissed her on the cheek and held her arms.
    â€œYou OK?”
    â€œIke. Thank you.”
    â€œHey. I haven’t done anything yet.”
    He followed her through to the kitchen at the back of the house. Everything was as neat as it always was.
    â€œI’m drinking whiskey.”
    â€œThen so am I.”
    Elsa brought her glass from the table, took another down from the shelf, uncorked a bottle standing on the side, and poured a generous slug into each. It was a supermarket brand, not their usual. He nodded yes to water and when she was done she handed one to him and by way of a toast raised hers an inch.
    â€œNancy was sorry you didn’t come up.”
    â€œI couldn’t, really.”
    â€œJust because you and Ben aren’t speaking doesn’t mean we can’t see you.”
    It wasn’t that, exactly, Hammer wanted to say, but instead he only smiled.
    He had never seen Elsa like this—her gray eyes were tired and she was wearing makeup to mask the bags underneath. She never wore makeup. It occurred to him that she hadn’t slept.
    â€œSo I called the hotel,” he said. “He checked out yesterday. Booked it last week, arrived Saturday, left yesterday as planned. Used his Visa card, three nights. No calls on the hotel’s phones. The person I spoke to didn’t know exactly when he went.”
    â€œWhat does that tell us?”
    â€œNot much. How does he manage his money?”
    Elsa frowned.
    â€œJoint account, or does he have his own?”
    â€œHe has his own.”
    â€œManages it online?”
    â€œNo. He doesn’t trust the security.”
    â€œHe calls them?” She nodded. “You know his code? His password?”
    â€œNo. Should I?”
    â€œIt would help, but no. What did he say when he called?”
    â€œHe said he had something to check out, and probably it would just be one more day, no more than two.”
    â€œCheck what out?”
    â€œChrist, Ike, I don’t know. Whatever you people check out.”
    Elsa took a good swallow of whiskey, and her near-black hair fell over one eye as she drank. There was a settled, quiet fear on her face and something else that Hammer couldn’t interpret.
    â€œFuck was he doing, going to the other side of the world for a funeral?”
    Elsa shook her head. “Don’t. We had that discussion.”
    â€œLong way to go.”
    â€œLong way to go. He could have sent a wreath like a normal person. Do you know anyone there?”
    Hammer blew out a sigh. “It’s not my part of the world. Just Karlo.”
    â€œDid you ever meet him?”
    â€œA couple of times. When he was seeing Ben. One night we had dinner.”
    â€œWere there toasts?”
    â€œEndless. I couldn’t keep up.”
    Elsa smiled. “It’s sad.”
    â€œIt sure is. How did he go?”
    â€œHe killed himself. Apparently.”
    â€œYou’re kidding me. Karlo?”
    â€œThat’s what Ben said.”
    â€œMy God. I can’t imagine Karlo keeping quiet long enough to kill himself.”
    Hammer sat back and folded his arms. Now it was beginning to make sense.
    â€œSo he went to investigate.”
    â€œNo. Ben? He went for the museums. The history.”
    She set her glass down on the table, her eyes red with anger, Hammer realized, as much as worry.
    â€œIt hasn’t been easy, Ike. Since he