The Last Option
Chapter Forty-Six: Confronting the Suspects

The next day, West and Scanlon went to talk to Louis Randall at Southern Hilltop Gold, intending to ask him if he was involved in placing the reward on the Hicks killer. Then they would also do it with Bernard Sullivan and, if in any case, they didn't replace evidence of the participation of both, with Rebecca Hicks, but they suspected she would already be out of the country as usual.

Louis received them in the office of the company president, not very happy with their visit, because when Duncan told him that he had to disappear because the police were looking for him, he assumed, and rightly so, that it was those two in front of him who were responsible for it.

"How can I help you, detectives?" he asked them, reclining in his chair, with an air of indifference. "Do you have any lead on the man who murdered my cousin yet?"

"We are coming to you because we want to ask you a question, Mr. Randall," West said, narrowing his eyes as he did when he was questioning a suspect. "A very concrete one." "Ask then, captain."

"There is a rumor running in the streets that someone offered a reward for the murderer of your cousin; a handsome bounty that has somehow thrown the criminal world into an uproar, leaving two men murdered to begin with. My specific question is: did you offer that bounty?"

Louis stared at them for a moment before replying. The news hit him like a bucket of cold water but he didn't show it to those policemen.

"No, it wasn't me," he finally said after a few seconds. "If that rumor is true, then someone is taking the search for this killer more seriously, since you haven't come up with anything yet. How long has it been? Seven, eight months? How many clues do you have? If you're asking me that question, it's because you're still in a dead-end maze. Or am I wrong?"

For the first time in his career, West felt his pride so wounded that he was left, also for the first time, without any sarcastic words to respond to the affront of that petulant billionaire. Scanlon predicted a loud tantrum from his boss, but strangely enough, he didn't.

"We already know who your cousin's murderer is, Mr. Randall," Scanlon intervened, giving West time to recover from the kick they had received, "it's only a matter of time before we catch him. But now this bounty event is happening, which has somehow slowed us down in the work of capturing it, and in the attempt it's starting to leave us more dead than we would like."

"Do you know who the murderer is?" Louis asked, no longer showing any signs of being affected by the conversation.

"Yes, Mr. Randall," Scanlon continued. "He's a dangerous professional assassin named Duncan Smith. We still don't know the reason why he murdered his accomplices and the Hicks; we'll have to ask him that when we catch him, now toward thinking it may not have been a kidnapping as such."

"If it wasn't a kidnapping, then what do you think it was?" Louis tried to conceal as much as possible his shock at learning that Duncan had already been identified as the one responsible for Nathan and Norma's deaths, but there was a certain tremor in his voice, almost imperceptible, but West caught immediately.

"Does the name sound familiar to you, Mr. Randall?" He asked, looking at him suspiciously.

"Not at all, Captain," he answered, regaining some composure, "it just seemed to me that it was a very common last name, and that there must be hundreds of it in New York. Perhaps here I come to have someone with that last name, sitting in that chair, but all businessmen and important entrepreneurs."

West nodded, not entirely convinced by Louis's words.

"But in any case, and returning to your question, I'm not offering any bounty for my cousin's murderer. It would be illogical to put one on someone you're about to catch, wouldn't it?"

"That's right, Mr. Randall," West rose from his chair, ready to leave, "it would be illogical, as well as a waste of money. Don't you think so?"

"Completely," Louis stated..

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Randall," Scanlon got up as well and walked with West to the door.

"Can I ask you a question, detectives?" Louis stopped them before they left the office.

"Of course," West replied. "Ask it."

"How much are they offering as a reward?"

The two cops looked at each other for two seconds, before West answered him.

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

West grabbed the doorknob and opened it; before they left, they heard Randall tell them, in a firm voice:

"I would have offered more."

Louis was very worried after West and Scanlon had left, thinking that Duncan had already been identified and he might be caught. He hoped he was well hidden, or else leaving the country, which would be difficult, he thought, due to the alert that must be on him in airports, bus and train terminals, and in the ports of the State. He would trust his ability to get himself out of this predicament, and that he wouldn't give him away if he was caught.

For his part, Duncan had spent the night in the last of his hideouts, a small house in suburban Brooklyn. It didn't have the surveillance resources that his previous hideout had; he considered it his last option in case the other one had been discovered, making the right decision to save in it everything necessary to change his appearance and leave the country as soon as possible. When he woke up, he took a shower, thinking it would be the last thing he would take there, and he got dressed. He opened one of the nightstand drawers and took out a knife, rolled the bed a little to the right and crouched down; between the divisions of the wooden floor he put the knife and lifted one of the boards, the floor creaked a little and he managed to unstick it, revealing a small compartment, from which he took out a small backpack. He put the board back on the floor, got up and stomped on it to match it to the others, then rolled the bed back and sat up. He opened the backpack and threw everything it contained on the bed: several small bags with what seemed to be hair, a wig, a case with contact lenses and another with dark glasses, scissors, two boxes of hair dye, a passport and three bundles of one hundred dollar bills. He took the passport and opened it, looking at the person he would become in an hour.

He thought about Fernandes and all the information it had cost him to get out of him; no one had ever endured so much or for so long. He really was a very tough person, he thought, but no matter how tough they are, they always give in, and they talk. He had an idea who might have offered the reward, and before leaving the country he would pay him a little visit.

He also thought about Louis and their relationship. As despot and arrogant as he was, he loved him and he felt partly sad that he would have to leave him, unless the two of them left together, which he considered unlikely to happen. In any case, he would try to talk to him one last time before leaving to try to convince him to seek a new life together; he would get him a new passport and if all went well, they would be very happy together.

Sadly, his twisted mind was slowly slipping away from reality.

Meanwhile, West and Scanlon were already outside Bernard's apartment. The latter rang the bell and they waited to be opened, which Thomas did after a few seconds.

"Is Mr. Sullivan in?" West asked, pushing Thomas aside and going inside without waiting for him to tell him to go. The old man was going to say something to him, but at that moment Bernard came up to them and made a sign asking him not to do it. He faced West with a frown.

"How can I help you now, Captain?"

West went to sit on the sofa in the living room, while Scanlon preferred to stand a little further back. Thomas closed the door and left them alone, going to little Nathan's room.

"I wanted to ask you a direct question, Mr. Sullivan. Wow, this sofa is really comfortable!" West exclaimed, smiling, caressing and detailing the piece of furniture. Bernard looked annoyed, while Scanlon watched, amused by his boss's performance.

"Just one direct question," West returned to him, stopping smiling, while Bernard waited standing in front of him. "And it's this: why are you posting a bounty on the Hicks killer?"

West's tactic of being direct and appearing convinced of what he was asking, to see if Bernard would fall into his trap and confess to him, didn't work, because he remained unmoved and without showing anything on his face that would give away.

"I don't know what you're talking about, captain. What bounty?"

West looked at his subordinate and smiled again.

"I love this guy!" he told Scanlon. "Others are like open books, but not him. He doesn't show anything! It's a real puzzle, really."

Bernard remained unperturbed and crossed his arms, causing West to get up from the couch and face him, looking into his eyes. Bernard held his gaze without even blinking.

"I'm going to tell you something, Mr. Sullivan, and I want you to listen to me very well: what you have done is beginning to create more problems for us; we don't want a war to break out in the streets between criminals, mobsters and all kinds of vermin just to collect a bounty on a person we have already identified, and who we are about to catch, so your effort to make others catch him will be in vain."

"I repeat, captain, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you know, and very well. Thank you for your time, Mr. Sullivan," West turned his back on him, walking to the door, and Scanlon followed him. West put a hand on the knob and, before turning it to open the door, turned to him. "By the way, it did you no good to hide the identity of the murderer from us. We already know who he is, and I'm weighing the idea of criminally charging you for concealment, obstruction and omission of information to the authorities." Saying that, he opened the door and they went out, leaving it open. In a few seconds, Bernard had to go to close it.