Tail Spin

the murderer had already gotten the BMW, probably forced your father into the car outside the restaurant. It was well planned.”
    Nichols asked, “What about Senator Abbott’s driver?”
    “Rafferty’s in the clear,” Jack said. “He said when he dropped Senator Abbott off outside the restaurant, the senator told him to take the night off, and so he did. He’s very nicely alibied.” Jack paused, studied the man’s face.
    Rachael fiddled with her braid. Jack said nothing, waited, his eyes still on Nichols’s face.
    Nichols said finally, not meeting her eyes, “As I already said, I think it’s very possible your father killed himself. No, no, listen. I think he committed suicide because he couldn’t live with the secret, but he didn’t want to ruin your life, Rachael, or that of his family, and so he killed himself. This is what I believe. I think it was his gift to you. I’ll tell you, I was relieved when his death was ruled an accident. I didn’t want it ever said that Senator Abbott killed himself. Ever.”
    “Suicide?” Rachael repeated slowly. “You honestly believe Jimmy killed himself?”
    Jack said, “You’re saying he drank to bring himself to the sticking point, got in his Beemer, and drove over the cliff?”
    “If he was ending his life, it seems to me it would make sense to ease things a bit.”
    “Jimmy did not kill himself,” Rachael said. “He did not. He wouldn’t, he simply wouldn’t.”
    “You prefer to think that someone wantonly took his life because of what he was going to confess?”
    Rachael sat forward, her voice becoming quite hard. “Jimmy was not that kind of man. Greg, you know Laurel, her slimy husband, and Quincy. Don’t tell me they would hesitate to kill someone they believed would dirty their lovely worlds. Jimmy was planning to explode their world.”
    “Plan to murder their own brother? To actually follow through with it? No, that’s pushing it too far, at least for me.”
    Jack said, “Shall I tell you the cases I’ve worked where family members have enthusiastically butchered each other?”
    Nichols said, “I can accept that, Agent Crowne, if you’re talking about psychopaths, about people with limited mental ability, the sort ofpeople who have only their fists and the will to use them. That’s not the Abbotts.” He raised his hands, no longer clenched. “I know, you have the horror stories, Agent Crowne, but the Abbotts, no matter their behavior, their faults, their seeming lack of, well, humanity. I’ve known them a very long time. They don’t abuse or murder their own blood.”
    Nichols sat forward, all his focus on Rachael. “You’re still not planning to tell the world what your father did, are you, Rachael?”
    “Yes, I think I am. I know you believe it might destroy your career, Greg, but you brought that on yourself.”
    He stared at her. “What do you mean by that?”
    “I’m talking about your own involvement in the cover-up. Come now, Greg, Jimmy told me how you talked him out of calling the police after he struck the little girl. When he spoke publicly, of course he wouldn’t point to your role in the cover-up, but you knew it would come out. The speculation alone about your connection would end your career and you knew it.”
    Nichols said, “Whatever passed between me and Senator Abbott is confidential, but I will say this. Even though I did know about the accident, I did not know the details, the particulars, until Senator Abbott told me days before his death. That is the truth.” He shrugged and looked gravely disappointed.
    Jack nodded, his voice approving. “I suppose denial of particulars is best. After all, Greg, no one would expect you to admit to being an accessory after the fact to a vehicular homicide. No one would expect you to send yourself to jail.”
    Nichols clasped his hands together, and his voice lowered, harder now. “I have told you the truth. I will not speak of it again.” He turned to Rachael, raised his voice. “Who are you to destroy a man’s name, to have the world judge him on a fraction of his life when he spent years—years—doing such fine work? That is one decision you cannot make for anyone. Especially not for him. You had only six weeks with him, Rachael, not enough time to know what he even liked to eat for breakfast. You did not know his mind, or his heart. You must accept that.”
    Jack saw Rachael’s face was stark and pale, and said easily, “Where were you that