The Letter Of The Law

CHAPTER 28

After his bout with the hooker and the ensuing commotion, Unger was sober enough to haul Johnson into the car and bully him into helping find the way to the address in Selton. Although Johnson slept on the long, wet drive up the interstate, Unger was able to waken him with a jab in the ribs as he rolled off the exit. With the help of a map, Johnson grumpily assisted in finding their way through the maze of rural roads. After several wrong turns, they found a muddy lane that led them to a long gravel path whose mailbox bore the faded name Lipton. Unger flipped off his headlights and slowly swung the car into the drive. Their way dipped down through the woods and then back up before ending at a tall gray Victorian lake house that rose dripping out of the rainy gloom. Never in his life had Unger felt more alive.

There was a white van parked on the side of the house, and several lights were on. Well short of the house, Unger pulled the car off the drive and killed the engine. He opened his door a crack, illuminating the gloom of the wet woods with the weak light from above the car's rearview mirror.

"What are you doing?" Johnson hissed at the sight of his friend checking the load in his Glock.

Unger gave him a deadpan look and, as if he did it every day, said, "Loading up."

"But what are you going to do?" Johnson asked, his voice slightly strained with panic.

"I'm going to check it out," Unger said coolly, "make sure it's my guy before I call in CNN."

"CNN?"

"Them and whoever," Unger said casually, shutting the door and returning the two of them to nearly pitch darkness while he explained the situation to his friend. "I'm not going to pull off a big arrest like this without some advance publicity. That's how careers are made in law enforcement, my friend. I've seen it happen. It's all about publicity. If this guy is the nut the local police are saying he is, I'll be the one to bring him in. But there's no sense hauling him in unless the media is aware of at least a few of the choicest gory details of the case.

"I've seen it done a hundred times," bragged the emboldened agent. "First, you let the media know that there's this psycho professor out there cutting the guts out of his students all across the land. Then, you have a big outcry to find the guy, and presto! It's James Unger to the rescue. Through my brilliant investigative powers, I apprehend the most diabolical criminal mind since Charles Manson. They'll make a movie out of it.

"But first," Unger said, opening the door again, "I've got to make sure that this is where the guy is hiding out, and not just the home of this Sarah, who for whatever reason is paying this guy's sex bills."

Johnson snickered and asked, "How are you going to explain your little trip with me to the club?"

Unger glared and, pointing a finger at his friend, said, "For the record, the only reason I went in that place was because I deduced that a pervert like Lipton might be getting off on his fantasies with a prostitute. He's got money, so I used my connection with you to find the highest-class place in town and went to investigate. That's how I explain it, and that's how you explain it if anyone asks. This is my chance, Dean…"

As he quietly slid out of the car into the downpour, he added, "It was brilliant detective work. That's how you sell it."

"Should I come with you?" Johnson asked eagerly.

"No, you sit tight," Unger told him, and he softly shut the door.

With the light shining brightly from the house and the cloud cover over the moon, Unger didn't bother skulking around in the bushes. He simply walked up the drive and peered in through the lofty kitchen windows. Dressed in a satin smoking jacket and slippers, Lipton was making himself a cup of tea. Unger watched as the tall, elegant professor poured his tea and sat down at the kitchen table with a bag of shortbread cookies.

Unger smiled to himself and returned to the car amid the steady fall of rain. His shirt was soaked and sticking to his skin.

"Is it him?" Johnson asked excitedly.

"It is," Unger said, firing up the car and turning around. "And he's not going anywhere. This place is home sweet home."

"What now?"

"Now," Unger said, casting a sideways look at his friend, "we go get a couple hours of some well-earned sleep. Come morning, I go to work for real."