Fatal Harbor

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

A week and a presidential election later, I was standing outside the main entrance to the Grafton County House of Corrections, leaning on a metal cane, wearing donated clothing from the county. It was a cold, crisp day, and I was supposedly a free man. Buildings behind me were surrounded with coils and coils of concertina wire. A black Chevrolet Impala came up to the parking lot and stopped, and Detective Pete Renzi stepped out of the car and walked over to me.

When he stopped, he dug out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and lit one up, took a deep drag.

“So you’re smoking again.”

“Damn observant,” he said, taking another deep drag. “The past couple of weeks would drive anybody to smoke, thanks to you.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Not here to get your apology.”

I leaned some more on my cane, felt the sharp wind cut through me. I kept quiet. He dropped the cigarette, ground it out with the heel of his shoe.

“Don’t you feel bad, nearly getting two sheriff’s deputies killed?”

“They weren’t killed,” I said. “Banged up a bit, but they weren’t killed.”

“And you can’t say anything about the Suburban that drove you guys off the road, or the two gunmen?”

“I’ve made at least two statements to the county attorney and the state’s attorney general. Don’t feel like saying anything more about that. Go check the interview transcripts if you’re still curious.”

I had a strong feeling he didn’t like what I’d just said, but I didn’t care that much. I was feeling the cold and I just wanted to leave.

Renzi said, suddenly, “I’ve been with the state for quite a few years, and I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen anything like what happened. All the evidence associated with you and this case — your clothes, your shoes, even your damn socks — disappear from a locked facility at the state’s crime lab. Gone. Which meant a shitstorm came my way and swept up some poor crime techs, barely making enough salary to support a family.”

“Guess you know I had nothing to do with it, being the guest of the county and all that.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Lewis. For a while, I was sure your pal Felix Tinios had something to do with it, but he had the typical ironclad alibi for the night the theft occurred. The bastard even had the same kind of alibi the night the Osgood house burned down. And here you are, free to go. No evidence, no probable-cause hearing, no trial. Congratulations.”

“Somehow I’m not feeling the sincerity, Detective.”

He took out the pack of cigarettes, looked at it, and then put it back into his coat. “Seems like a long time ago, I warned you off the matter of Curt Chesak. It’s obvious you went ahead and did what you wanted to do. Are you still on the job?”

“I’ve got more important things going on at the moment,” I said, raising up my cane a few inches.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ So let me ask you this. There were three male bodies found in the house after it burned down. Safe to say Curt Chesak was one of them?”

“You being a detective and all, I thought you might already know that.”

“Hah,” Renzi said, his voice flat. “Problem is, no fingerprints. Any recovered DNA hasn’t been matched with anything in any DNA database we’ve been able to access. Plus there’s the matter of the heads.”

“Find them yet?”

“No,” he said. “And no heads means no skulls, no teeth, and no dental records. Unless something turns up shortly, this is going to be one honking big cold case. And I don’t like cold cases, especially when I’m looking at the guy responsible for putting this case in the freezer.”

I shifted my weight on my right leg, pleased that the pain was throbbing at an acceptable level. “Heard any news about Diane Woods?”

“Couple of days ago, heard nothing had changed. Still in a coma.”

“Thanks for the information,” I said. “Wasn’t able to make any calls while I was inside.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dead leaves skittered across the asphalt. Thought for a moment or three. “Tell you this, Detective. If I may, your job is about making sure justice prevails. Trust me when I say this: justice has prevailed.”

“Who made you judge and jury?”

“Me,” I said. “Saw that a real judge and jury wasn’t ever going to decide this, and I wasn’t going to allow that to stand. A decision that I will think about forever, and a decision that I’m glad I made. And if I may, trust me on this, it’s over, it’s done, and the matter is closed.”

“Only if I say so.”

I nodded. “Agreed. Only if you say so.”

We stood there in the cold wind on a fall day, and Renzi said: “Ah, Christ, enough of this. You know what? It kills me to say this, but I think you did a good job. I’ll always deny saying this, but yeah, I’m glad to see that justice prevailed for Diane Woods. It just pisses me off mightily that you did it, that I couldn’t, and that you’re going to get away with it.”

“Not without a few bumps in the road.”

“Yeah. What’s the deal with your leg?”

“Still attached to my hip, but it’s going to hurt for a long time to come.”

“And your house?”

“Last I saw, it was still burning. Not sure what’s going to be left when I get back to Tyler Beach.”

“Hell of a thing.”

“Yeah.”

Another few moments passed, and he said, “Well, I’m heading back to Concord, see if there’s anything new about the crime lab break-in. But I’m not holding my breath.”

“Seems like a wise choice.”

“Give you a ride?”

I spotted a vehicle coming up the paved access road. “No, I’m all set.”

“Good. Hope you have better days.”

“You too.”

As Detective Renzi drove off, a black stretch limousine pulled in, bearing Massachusetts license plates. It made a circuit of the parking lot, like it was trying to show the inmates inside what was waiting for them if they got out, kept their noses clean, and, most important of all, if they made the right friends.

The limousine pulled in front of me, the rear door opened up, and Felix Tinios came out, breath misting some in the cold air. He had on a charcoal gray cloth coat that went down to his knees, red turtleneck shirt, gray slacks, and black shoes. His face was tanned and his black hair was set and perfect, and he came up to me, slid an arm through mine.

“Come along, my friend,” he said. “It’s time for you to go home.”

“Not much of a home left.” I started walking, using the cane, leaning on Felix.

“True enough. Should have thought better before opening my mouth. Hey, I heard there was a fire up here, more than a week ago. Where you were found sitting outside on the front lawn. Hell of a coincidence, eh?”

We reached the open door of the car. “They started it,” I said.

“And you sure as hell finished it.”

“I sure as hell did.”

The interior of the limousine was warm and comfortable, with a very attractive young woman sitting on the other side. A built-in round table was between us and her, and there were plates and covered containers and little cans of Sterno flickering along. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties, with olive skin, dark brown eyes, and long black hair braided to one side. She had on a short black skirt, black stockings, high-heeled shoes, and a tight yellow ribbed blouse that was quite low-cut.

I settled in as well as I could, stretching out my bum leg. Felix sat next to me, closed the door, and motioned to the woman. “Lewis, I’d like to introduce you to Angela Rossini, an alleged second cousin of mine from the Old Country.”

I leaned over, extended my hand. She smiled wider, took my hand in hers, and said, “Buongiorno, Lewis.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I said.

She released my hand and spoke to Felix. “Mi dispiace, Felix, lui è bello ma ha davvero gli odori!”

“So, what did she just say?” I asked.

Felix patted my good leg. “She thinks you’re cute and that you could use a bath.”

“Tell her thanks for the first part, and apologies for the second. Sponge baths from male attendants tend to just hit the highlights.”

The limousine purred its way out of the jail’s parking lot, and in a few minutes we were covering the same ground I had passed more than a week ago.

I didn’t give it a second glance.

“And who’s driving? Angela’s brother?”

“No, a former associate… and let’s just leave it at that.”

“Fine.”

When we got onto the Interstate, Angela went to work, removing covers and preparing dishes. In a few minutes I had a white linen napkin on my lap, with a large square plate that had beef tenderloin, some sort of crispy potato side dish, and a salad. Glasses of Chianti were also poured, and I ate the best meal I had consumed in a long time as we moved south and then east.

When I was finished, I asked Felix, “So, who’s Angela? For real?”

“For real, she is a second cousin. According to her paperwork and birth certificate, at least.”

“What’s she doing here? Besides serving lunch.”

“She’s an astrophysicist from some college in Rome. Couldn’t find a job, like most of her generation. I got her over here a few days ago, thought she’d be a good companion for you on the ride back. Talk about stars, planets, galaxies. Help pass the time.”

“You know I don’t speak Italian.”

He wiped his lips and hands with his napkin. “Shit, Lewis, do you see ‘stupid’ tattooed on my forehead? She claimed she spoke English when she e-mailed me a few weeks back.”

“Along with a photo?” I asked innocently.

“Never mind that. So here she is… well, what you see is what you get. I told her I didn’t like being lied to like that, and she said if I had to, I should punish her.”

She started collecting our dishes, smiling all the time. I tried hard not to stare at her long legs and her smooth cleavage.

I failed.

“So, are you going to punish her, or what?”

Felix sighed. “I’m struggling with that. She is a second cousin, after all.”

“Maybe she lied about that too.”

He smiled. “Hell, didn’t think of that. Thanks, bud.”

After a few more pleasant smiles, I leaned back in the comfortable seat and asked, “Do you know anything about Diane Woods?”

“Not a thing. How about you?”

“A couple of weeks ago, talked to her partner Kara Miles. Nothing had really changed. Still in a coma. Since then, I didn’t have access to a phone.”

Felix dug into a side pocket, handed over his cell phone. “Go for it.”

I dialed and after four rings, it went straight to voicemail.

Did it two more times.

I handed the phone back. “I’ll try later.”

“Sure,” he said. “So, where do you want to go?”

“Exonia Hospital.”

“Okay.”

Felix helped Angela with some more of the dishes, the two of them speaking to each other in Italian, and once he said something that seemed to anger her, for her face turned red and her voice went up a notch or two. But I checked her eyes, which were saying something else entirely.

When Felix was through, I asked, “Aren’t you going to tell your associate?”

“Tell him what?”

“Tell him where I want to go.”

Felix laughed. “Didn’t have to. I told him from the start that’s where we’d end up.”

“Good call.”

He folded his arms. “Detective Renzi meet up with you?”

“Just before you showed up. I understand he spent some quality time with you as well. Thanks for backing me up.”

“The truth is always a good defense.”

“Who told you that?”

“Oh, I get around.”

With the wonderful meal, wine, and companions, accompanied by the gentle drone of the limousine, I put my head back and quickly fell asleep. Like every other time in the past several days, I saw the same thing before I drifted away: Curt Chesak in his bedroom, me shooting him three times. Meaning to shoot him dead. To kill him. To end his life.

The rational part of my mind had no problem with that. He had done me harm, had done Diane harm, and had killed a college student whose only sin had been working for his father.

That was the rational part.

But deep in my heart and in the marrow of my bones, no matter what I had said to Detective Renzi, there was doubt, there was anguish.

Ultimately, I had not killed Curt Chesak, but the intent was in my actions.

I slept on the drive south, but not particularly well.

When the limousine slowed down as it made an exit onto Route 101, about another half hour before we reached Exonia, I woke up and stretched. Angela handed me two warm and moist towels, which I used to wipe my hands and face. When I was done, she poured small cups of very strong coffee for Felix and myself.

As we sat there, Felix asked, “Did Attorney Drake meet your needs?”

“Met and then some.”

“He has a message for you. Hold on.”

Felix took out an envelope, which he passed over. It was cream-colored, made of heavy stock, and had HALE FOR PRESIDENT in the upper left-hand corner, accompanied by a familiar address. And speaking of familiarity, my name was handwritten with blue ink in the center.

Quite familiar.

Felix and Angela pretended not to look at me. I examined the envelope one more time, reached over, and toggled a switch that lowered the window. I tore the envelope in half, in quarters, and then slipped the scraps out the crack of the window, whereupon the passing windstream snatched them away.

I raised the window back up, and we were all quiet until we reached the Exonia Hospital.

I got out of the limousine and looked back in and asked, “You feel like coming in for a visit?”

Felix laughed. “I admire Detective Woods, I respect Detective Woods, but I don’t particularly have fond feelings for her. You go ahead. I’ll stay here with Angela. We’ll be here as long as it takes.”

“Thanks, and do me a favor. No limo rocking when I come back.”

He reached over, started closing the door. “With this suspension system, you won’t see a damn thing.”

I walked slowly into the main entrance of Exonia Hospital to the near elevator banks, and then I got off at a familiar floor where the ICU was located. I was pretty much ignored as I went past the nurses’ station, didn’t see Kara or a police officer keeping watch outside Diane’s room.

I walked faster.

The door was open.

I walked in.

The room was empty.

I stood there, not moving, my first thoughts being that perhaps she had been taken out for an X-ray or MRI or some other procedure, but no, the room was clean, there were no balloons, cards, or flowers on the window counter, and the bed was neat and well made.

A male nurse came by, and I said, “Excuse me, do you have a moment?”

“Sure,” he said, stopping. He held a clipboard in his hand and wore multi-colored scrubs and white shoes.

“Could… could you tell me where Detective Woods is? The woman who was here?”

“Oh,” he said. “She’s gone. I’m sorry. Didn’t you know?”