Murder List

Chapter Forty-one

At was almost too easy. While Peter Morris was shouting threats over the phone and sloshing his drink down his shirt, two policemen walked up behind him and grabbed him.

Morris wasn’t too drunk to lawyer up. As soon as he was handcuffed and read his rights, he started screaming for an attorney.

He did a lot of talking about not talking to anyone about anything. A confession would have been nice, but they really didn’t need it. The evidence nailed him. Morris, as it turned out, was a collector. Hidden behind a block of insulation in the attic of the run-down house he rented was a mildewed shoe box tied with a bright pink ribbon, and inside that box were his trophies, a bloody hammer with a workman’s initials burned into the handle, Haley Cross’s driver’s license, and Detective Benjamin Sweeney’s wallet.

Lieutenant Lewis was ecstatic. As far as he was concerned, it was an open-and-shut case. After hearing about the evidence, he insisted that he be the one to call Aiden and give him the good news.

Wincott drove back to the hotel to tell Regan what they’d found in Morris’s house. He called Alec and asked him to meet him in the lobby.

Alec was in a mood. He had wanted to sit in on the interrogation with Morris and his attorney, but Lewis wouldn’t let him get near him. Wincott didn’t think it was such a good idea either, considering Alec’s frame of mind.

Wincott was waiting for Alec in front of the elevators. “Are you finished packing, or have you even started yet?” he asked when he spotted Alec striding toward him.

“He didn’t confess, did he?”

“So I guess that’s a no on the packing?”

“Answer me, John,” he snapped.

“No, he didn’t confess. Swears he’s innocent. It was shocking. I’ve never heard any suspect say that.”

Alec ignored the smart-ass remark. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped back to let Wincott go in first.

“Where are all the security guards? I haven’t seen a single one since I walked into this building.”

“The extra men who were sent over from the security company are probably on other jobs now, and the regulars are just being more discreet. You know, blending in. Now that we’ve got our man-and we do have the right man-the hotel’s security staff doesn’t need to have such a loud presence.”

The doors opened on Regan’s floor. “I don’t like this,” Alec muttered.

“I know. You wanted a confession, didn’t you? But you know what? If he had confessed, you still wouldn’t believe he was the right man for this.”

Alec shrugged. “You could have gotten me in there. All I wanted was to ask a couple of questions.”

Wincott shook his head. “We’re doing everything by the book, and that means no one is going to touch him.”

“And you think I would?”

Wincott smiled. “Of course you would. You’d have his face smashed into a wall the second he said her name. Face it, Alec. You’re too involved in this… personally involved.”

Alec didn’t like hearing that. “If I’m so damned personally involved, why did you ask me to meet you here?”

“Because I figured what you need is closure.”

Alec looked incredulous. “Closure? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I thought to myself that maybe, if you heard me telling Regan about all the evidence we had and the motive and opportunity, well then, you’d be able to close the door on this investigation and move on.”

“It was too easy.”

“Sometimes that’s just how it ends up. Easy.”

“The evidence…”

“I know. Someone else could have planted the evidence in Morris’s attic. That’s what you were going to say, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Morris is good for this. Physically he’s big enough and strong enough to lift Sweeney and hang him the way he did, and he fits the description Regan gave us.”

Alec knocked on her door. “Hundreds of men fit that description.”

She opened the door, and in a flash, Alec took it all in. She was barefoot and wearing running shorts and a top that didn’t quite cover her navel. She looked really good.

Wincott nodded to her and walked past.

“I just heard the news,” she said.

“Who told you?” Alec asked. For the first time in the last three weeks, he didn’t head for the comfortable sofa.

She closed the door. “Lieutenant Lewis called and told me, and then Aiden called. Why aren’t you smiling, Alec? Aren’t you happy about this?”

“He thinks it’s too easy,” Wincott said. He sat down in the easy chair and leaned forward.

Alec stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets and frowned at him. “Listen, the results of the DNA aren’t in, I say we keep up the protection.”

“You aren’t convinced that Peter Morris is the man who killed…?”

She stopped when he shook his head. “No, I’m not convinced.”

“He doesn’t want to be convinced.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alec asked.

“It means it’s crunch time.” He gave a barely perceptible nod toward Regan.

Alec’s jaw was clenched tight as he glared at Wincott.

Regan wasn’t certain what was going on. “John, do you think we have the right man?”

“Yes, I do. Evidence doesn’t lie.”

“Unless it’s planted.”

“A strand of Morris’s hair was found embedded in the hammer.”

“Do you know how easy it would have been to plant that evidence? All someone had to do was take a hair from his brush,” he said as he slowly paced.

“He had a motive,” Wincott told Regan. “He owed the wrong people a lot of money, and he was counting on the grant to bail him out. When you turned him down, he went after you. He admitted he went to Liam House and waited for you. The evidence is going to bury him. Morris was desperate… and losing it. He picked up Regan’s cell phone and that folder with her murder list and thought that maybe if he did something nice for her…”

“I’d give him the money? My God…”

Wincott nodded. “I had a nice long talk with Emily Milan. She admitted she told Morris where you were.”

“Did she know she was talking to Peter Morris?” Regan asked.

“Yes, but she claims she had no idea what he wanted,” Wincott answered. “She also admitted she’d gotten into your computer so she could read all your e-mails. She said she only did it so she could keep current.”

“I’m amazed she’d own up to that. She’s the one who printed the picture of Sweeney and put it on Aiden’s desk. She also forwarded it to your other brothers.”

Wincott smiled. “The pair of handcuffs I pulled out made her real chatty. She suddenly wanted to cooperate.”

“Where is she now?” Alec asked.

“She was fired, of course,” Wincott said. “And security escorted her out of the hotel. I doubt she’ll be asking for a recommendation.”

“Are you still convinced he killed Haley Cross because he thought it was me?”

“Yes,” Wincott said. “Like I said before, it was rainy and dark, and Cross was about your height, maybe a little taller, and had dark hair like yours. If he came up behind her, it would be an easy mistake to think she was you. And you let Morris know where you would be,” he said. “You know, that article and photo from the paper Henry cut out and framed?”

She nodded. She knew where John was headed.

“At the dedication, you said that you ran the jogging path every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We believe Morris read the article and went to Conrad Park to wait for you. I don’t think he went there to kill you. I think it just got out of hand. He probably wanted to convince you to give him the grant. He must have been shocked when he realized he’d grabbed the wrong woman. Maybe that’s what triggered his rage.”

“You told me she fought him.”

“Yes,” Wincott said. “One of the workmen left his hammer. Morris saw it, picked it up, and killed her.” He looked at Alec when he added, “But it’s finished now. When the DNA results come back, we’ll have enough to put Morris away for three lifetimes.”

He stood and offered Regan his hand.

“John, I can’t thank you enough,” she said.

“Things should wrap up fairly quickly. The prosecutor’s office will be in touch with you and let you know where things will go from here.” He glanced at Alec. “I should be going.”

Alec didn’t follow him. He pushed the door shut so he could have a moment of privacy with her. He needed to say good-bye.

“Listen, Regan…” he began, and then stopped. He was suddenly tongue-tied.

“Yes?” She looked into his eyes and waited.

“You knew I was going to leave.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Okay then. I’m going home to pack up, and then I’m driving to Boston.”

“To see your family?”

He nodded. He sounded resolute when he muttered, “That’s right.”

“And then the FBI.”

“Right again. I’m moving forward.”

Did he know he was breaking her heart? “I understand.”

“Look… I shouldn’t have…”

She wouldn’t let him finish. If he told her that he shouldn’t have made love to her, she didn’t know what she would do. “I don’t have any regrets. You should go home now and pack.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, I should.”

She opened the door. “Remember, Alec, you’re moving forward.”

“That’s right. I am.”

“Then go.”

“If you’re ever in Boston…”