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tal Peter Morse was holding a baseball bat in his right hand, so I had confirmation of that.”
“My dear brother. He was never good for much.”
“Well, he was an integral part of your plan,” King said in a prompting manner.
Morse smiled. “I see you haven’t the brains to really figure all this out, that you just want me to lay it out for you. All right, I really don’t see you testifying about it later. I got the sanitized guns Arnold and I had at the Fairmount from my criminally inclined brother.”
“And you hid your gun in the supply closet after Ritter was killed.”
“And that maid person saw me and spent the next seven years blackmailing me, only stopping when she believed I’d been committed. Your friend Maxwell unwittingly revealed the blackmailer’s identity to me. And I paid her back. With interest.”
“Just like you did Mildred Martin.”
“She couldn’t follow directions. I don’t tolerate stupid people.”
“I guess that included your brother.”
“It was probably a mistake to involve him, but he was family, after all, and quite willing to help. However, as time went by and my poor brother continued to abuse drugs, I was afraid he’d talk. I also had all the family money, and there was always the possibility of blackmail. The best place to keep one’s ‘problems’ is in plain sight, so I kept him around, supported him. When the time came, I switched identities with him and had him committed.”
“But why switch identities at all?”
“It ensured that the world thought I was somewhere else while I put this little plan together. Otherwise, people might start nosing around.” Morse stretched his arms out. “Think about it. Several of the players in the Ritter imbroglio brought together on an elaborate set like this? People inevitably would start thinking about me. Being institutionalized was better than even being dead. People can fake their deaths. I was confident no one would be able to find out I had committed Peter rather than the other way around.” Morse smiled. “And why do it if you’re not going to do it with panache?”
King shook his head. He figured he’d buy as much time as possible by keeping Morse talking. The man obviously wanted to brag about his grand plan, and King could use the extra time to work out a strategy. “I would have done it differently. Commit him, then kill him. That way, you’re assured people think you’re dead.”
“But killing him could lead to an autopsy, and that might show he wasn’t me if they got old medical and dental records to compare against. If he dies naturally, all is fine. Besides, we looked enough alike, and the other little touches I devised were enough to fool anyone. My genius is in the details. For example, this room is soundproofed. Why bother in a deserted hotel? Because you just never know about sound: it carries in strange, unpredictable ways, and I really can’t have any interruptions. It would ruin the whole performance, and I’ve never disappointed an audience yet. I also like to bring things off with a certain flair. Like the note you mentioned. I could have just slipped it in your mailbox. But a body hanging on the door, it’s classic. And blowing up your house. It’s just the way I do things.”
“But why involve Bob Scott? Like you said, no one would suspect you.”
“Think, Agent King, think. Every drama needs a villain. Besides, Agent Scott never accorded me the respect I deserved when I was with Ritter. He lived to regret that.”
“Okay, so you fried your brother’s brain, mutilated his face to further disguise his identity, fattened him up while you slimmed down, moved to Ohio, where no one would know either of you, and established the identity switch. That’s quite a production. Just like the Ritter campaign.”
“Clyde Ritter was simply a means to an end.”
“Right. This had nothing to do with Clyde Ritter and everything to do with Arnold Ramsey. He had something you wanted. You wanted it so badly you led him to his death so you could take it.”
“I did him a favor. I knew Arnold hated Ritter. His academic career had peaked long ago. He was at rock bottom and ripe for the offer I made him. I let him relive his past glory as a radical protester. I let him go down in history as the assassin of an immoral, disgusting man, a martyr for the ages. What could be better?”
“You walking off with the real prize. The prize you tried to get thirty years ago when you set up Ramsey for killing a national guardsman. But that attempt failed and so did the Ritter plan. Even though Arnold was gone, you still weren’t going to win.”
Morse looked amused. “Go on, you’re doing very well. What didn’t I win?”
“The woman you loved, Regina Ramsey, the actress with a huge future. I’m betting she starred in some of your productions way back when. And it wasn’t just business. You loved her. Only she loved Arnold Ramsey.”
“Ironically I introduced them to each other. I’d met Arnold when I was doing a play having to do with the civil rights protests and needed some research. I never imagined two people so totally opposite… Well, he didn’t deserve her, of course. Regina and I were a team, a truly great one with the whole world waiting. We were poised to hit the big time. The dominating presence she had onstage, she would have been a Broadway star, one of the greatest.”
“And made you a star too.”
“Every great impresario needs a muse. And don’t be fooled, I brought out the best in her. We would have been unstoppable. Instead, my artistic power disappeared when she married him. So my career was destroyed even as Arnold wasted her life in his pathetic little academic world at a third-rate college.”
“Well, that was your doing. You ruined his career.”
“You’ve asked a lot of questions, let me ask one. What really turned your attention to me?”
“Something I heard pointed me in your direction. So I started digging into your family. I found out your father was the attorney who got Ramsey off the murder charge in D.C. I guess your plan was to make Ramsey appear guilty so Regina would stop loving him, then you’d swoop in as the white knight, save Arnold and take Regina as your prize. That’s right out of a movie script.”
Morse pursed his lips. “Only the script didn’t work.”
