Victims Read Online Free Page A

almost two years old. Then they came to San Francisco. Kramer—I never think of him as Gordon—was in venture capital. He had his own business in New York, or so he said. I was able to help him get established here, and within two years after his arrival in San Francisco he’d made many advantageous connections, thanks to my efforts.
    “But then, unhappily, the marriage started to come apart. And, to be fair, I can’t claim it was entirely Kramer’s fault. Because, in fact—” He broke stride, stood motionless for a moment. I saw his shoulders sag and his head lower, as if his sharp, restless vitality had suddenly deserted him. “In fact, even during her first marriage, Marie began to drink.” Plainly weary now, he resumed his seat. “I thought having a baby might help, but it didn’t. Just the opposite proved to be the case. Postpartum depression aggravated the problem. And then there was Kramer—” His eyes hardened, his voice sharpened vindictively. I was aware of a pattern developing. Talking about his daughter or his grandson, Guest’s manner softened. But when he talked about Gordon Kramer, anger took over.
    “During the whole of his marriage, Kramer was seeing other women. Lots of other women. And when he and Marie moved here, his philandering continued, got worse, in fact. Until, finally, he became so blatant about it that we had no choice but to take action.” He began reflectively twirling an antique silver letter opener with his long, expressive fingers as he looked me squarely in the eye. Obviously, he was evaluating me, deciding how much he should tell me. Finally he said, “To be perfectly candid, Lieutenant, we made a deal, Kramer and I. If he would agree to a divorce, agree to go back to New York, or wherever, and if he would agree not to bother either Marie or John, I’d agree to a nominal settlement—even though, God knows, the court would never have given him anything. The point being, I wanted him out of our lives. For good.”
    “Did he have visitation rights, after the divorce?”
    He nodded. “Yes. It was just too much trouble to eliminate visitation. The courts, you know, will almost always grant visitation, and Kramer’s lawyer wasn’t about to yield the point, doubtless because he could see some profit to his career, successfully opposing me in divorce proceedings. It’s like gun fighting in the old west, making a reputation by going against someone important. So, as I said, Kramer and I made a separate deal, privately. He agreed to stay away from both Marie and John. And I agreed to—certain other things.”
    “Then he broke his word. Is that it?”
    He waved aside the question with a sharp, impatient chop of his hand. Talking about Kramer, Guest’s angry vitality had returned. “Yes, he broke his word. But that’s another story. It’s a long story, and it’s irrelevant, at least for the moment. After all, it’s three o’clock in the morning. And we’re still doing background.” He eyed me coldly, as if to imply that he shouldn’t have to tell me how to conduct my own interrogation. “Suffice it to say I had a lot of incriminating information on Gordon Kramer—information that had nothing whatever to do with his goddam philandering.” He broke off, frowning down at the silver letter opener, his expression implacable, inscrutable. Then: “For a while the deal held. But, two years ago, Kramer got remarried. And for whatever reason, he apparently decided that he wanted John. So a year ago, he began taking measures.”
    “He wanted the boy permanently, you mean? Or did he want to visit him?”
    “It began with visitations. Of course, I objected. He was breaking our private agreement. In response, he initiated custody proceedings, naming Marie an unfit parent. I threatened retaliation, of course. I’ve already told you I had information that would incriminate him. I threatened to use it.”
    “What was the nature of that information?”
    “I don’t want to go