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Zane slipped the tape into the radio/cassette player on Kaylie’s credenza.
“Zane, I don’t think…” Kaylie began, but the tape started to play and the conversation between Zane and Ted filled the room.
Alan stared at the tape player as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Zane swung one leg over the corner of Kaylie’s desk and leaned closer to the other man. “The voice on this tape is that of a woman—I don’t know her real name—but I think you do.”
“A woman? But—”
“It’s disguised of course, but it’s probably someone you know—maybe someone you date. And no, I’m not talking about Kaylie, because you’ve never dated her, but have led all the tabloids to believe it.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I don’t think so.” Zane let the words sink in, then once he was certain he had Alan’s undivided attention, continued. “I talked to the phone company, and it seems there are several long-distance phone calls on your bill. Calls to the Carmel Police Department on the night that Kaylie was attacked by Johnston and calls to reporters for The Insider and a couple of other tabloids. Unfortunately there aren’t any calls from your phone to my agency when ‘Ted’ rang me up. But we have the general vicinity in which the calls were made. My guess is that one of your girlfriends made the call. My men are checking into that right now.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Alan said, but the lines around the corners of his mouth were tightening, and the glare he sent Zane was pure hatred.
Kaylie couldn’t believe her ears. Not Alan. He couldn’t, wouldn’t put her life in danger!
“It only makes sense, Bently,” Zane continued, rewinding the tape and playing it again, letting Ted’s warning bounce off the corners of the room. Sweat dotted Alan’s upper lip.
Zane motioned toward the recorder. “You’ve been pushing for more publicity for the past year and a half. You’ve moved behind the scenes to make people aware of you—and my wife.”
“You’re wrong, Flannery.”
“Am I?” Zane clucked his tongue, and his foot swung slowly as he turned to Kaylie. “You know why Henshaw agreed to come onto this program, don’t you?”
“Because of his book,” Kaylie said.
Zane nodded. “And the movie rights tied into that book—rights dealing with Lee Johnston, rights to your story, our story and Alan’s story.”
Alan’s face drained of color. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Am I?” Zane demanded, his eyes narrowing on the shorter man. “I don’t think so. In fact, I’ve already had a conversation with the good doctor. He seems to remember placing a call on the night of Johnston’s escape attempt, and not just a call to the police. He called you, Alan. So that you could milk this for all it was worth.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“At first I thought Henshaw might have been in on Johnston’s escape—helped him along a little. But he convinced me and—” he stared pointedly at his watch “—right now he’s convincing the police that you and he only took advantage of a situation that had already occurred. So, when Johnston escaped, he called you and you eventually called the Carmel police. Why?”
“I didn’t—”
“There are telephone records, Bently.”
Kaylie’s stomach lurched. Surely Alan wouldn’t have done anything to hurt her—to put her life in danger.
Alan turned to Kaylie, and all of his bravado escaped in a defeated rush. He fell into a chair and buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” he whispered, his voice muffled.
“Oh, Alan, no!” Kaylie cried, tears of anger building behind her eyes. “You couldn’t have!”
“You got it backward,” Alan admitted, his voice barely a whisper as he looked up, his eyes filled with regret. “That night—the night he escaped. Johnston called here, asking for Kaylie. I didn’t know who he was…but by the tone of his voice I guessed. And later, Henshaw called with the news.”
“Oh, God,” Kaylie whispered.
“So you gave him her address in Carmel,” Zane said, not letting up for a second.
“But I called the police—almost immediately! I—I…” The look he sent Kaylie was pathetic. “I just didn’t know that he was already over halfway there, that he’d been hitchhiking and so…I called Henshaw back and told him I’d already taken care of everything and that Kaylie was all right and that I thought he and I should do some business together. I’d talked to him before—about a movie on Johnston’s life and now, together, I thought we could put something together. Viewer interest would already be high,” he said, as if the American public’s wishes erased all of his mistakes.
“And that’s why he agreed to appear on your show?” Zane persisted.
“Yes—to promote his book and to get people interested in Lee Johnston’s story.”
