Pulse

82

Quinn’s phone conversation with Schueller had convinced Quinn that the chancellor must be the killer. Pieces had to be found and fitted to the picture before the entire image became clear, but Schueller knew too much-and not enough.

Sal and Harold drove to Waycliffe College in the NYPD unmarked, while Quinn, Pearl, Fedderman, and Jody went in Quinn’s Lincoln. Jody had strict orders to observe only.

Sal and Harold were assigned to watch Schueller’s office, and to contact Quinn if Schueller or anyone else involved in the investigation might come or go.

It would be best if they could nail the suspects at the same time in the same place, preferably the same room, to tie them together in the collective mind of a future jury. Co-conspirators. Accessories after the fact. The entire nest of snakes.

Quinn, thinking like a cop.

They parked the Lincoln well off campus property and told Jody to stay locked in it, then entered the woods. Quinn knew they’d soon be clear of the trees. There would be a wide stretch of ground, then more woods, then Schueller’s house, facing away from the main campus. It was on the edge of campus property, but still secluded and a long way from the road where the Lincoln was parked.

Darkness was closing in fast, and cicadas were screaming their grating, shrill mating call. Quinn was glad for the continuous racket; it would help to cover any noise he and the others might make.

As they broke from the first stretch of woods into the wide clearing, Fedderman squeezed Quinn’s shoulder and pointed.

There near the trees was Schueller’s small twin-engine plane, staked down with cable, and with a blue tarpaulin lashed over the glass of its cockpit.

“Makes you think the feds should be in on this,” Pearl said.

“ They’d think so, anyway,” Quinn said. “But it’s not so unusual for a college to own an airplane.” He had no idea whether that was true, but it sounded logical.

“I see those Harvard jetliners at LaGuardia all the time,” Fedderman said.

They were into the woods again, but not for long. Ahead of them in the moonlight was Schueller’s home, a decorator’s brick and ivy dream. Beyond the low stone wall around the veranda were padded lounge chairs and a round table with an umbrella. Though it was almost completely dark, the house showed no lights.

Fedderman worked his way around front and returned five minutes later.

“Lights on in two of the windows in front,” he said. “But there’s no sign of anyone moving around in there.”

Someone was moving through the brush.

Before anyone had a chance to react, Jody approached.

“It was damned creepy alone in that car,” she said. She looked at Quinn. “You pissed off because I’m here?”

“What I am is damned-”

Quinn’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Sal Vitali’s number.

As soon as Quinn pressed TALK, he heard Vitali’s raspy whisper. “Schueller left his office. He’s coming in your direction, driving some kind of customized golf cart. He’s alone.”

Jody couldn’t possibly hear Sal’s voice or follow the conversation, but she had her head cocked to the side as if listening. A mosquito droned close to Quinn’s ear. He slapped at it and missed.

“You and Harold stay put for a while,” he said to Vitali. “See if anyone turns up at his office.”

Quinn stuffed his phone back in his pocket. “Schueller’s on his way, alone and driving a converted golf cart.”

“He drives that thing around all the time,” Jody said. “It’s got a special parking space near the administration building.”

They didn’t hear Schueller arrive, but saw light play over the trees up front. Within a few minutes more lights came on inside the house. The den or library on the other side of the French doors was illuminated, making it all the more difficult for anyone inside to see out.

Quinn signaled everyone to move closer.

Suddenly Jody whispered, “ There’s Sarah! ”

Everyone stood still and watched a woman walk across the veranda to one of the French doors. She rapped once lightly on the glass, pushed the door open, and entered.

“I thought she might be dead,” Jody said in a relieved voice, still somewhat under the woman’s spell.

Quinn had other ideas about Sarah Benham.

He saw that the French doors farther down the veranda were dark. He suspected they’d be unlocked, like the doors Sarah Benham had used to gain entrance to the house.

He handed Pearl something in the darkness. It was a small plastic box with a coiled wire and what felt like an ear plug.

“What the hell is this?” she asked.

“It’s a receiver. I was going to plant bugs in the house so we could listen in after Schueller made bail. But things are moving too fast so there’s been a change of plans. I’m going in with the microphone end of that thing and see if I can get something useful on tape. So we’ll not only have arrest warrants, we’ll be able to make them stick.”

“With tapes obtained after an illegal entry?” Jody the attorney asked in a dubious tone. She decided not to point out to Quinn that the recordings would be digital, not on tape. Let the technosaur have his old-fashioned terminology.

“The judge who granted the arrest warrants also gave permission to bug the premises,” Quinn said. He was pretty sure the permission didn’t say exactly when.

“But-” Jody began.

Pearl gave Jody a hard look and made a twisting motion with her hand as if rotating a key between her locked lips. Jody pursed her lips in unconscious imitation of her mother.

Pearl turned her attention to Quinn.

“The three of us are going in,” she said, with a glance at Fedderman.

He nodded.

Pearl handed the receiver to Jody. “Jody stays here and listens through the earbud, calls the state cops if the situation goes all to hell.”

Jody opened her mouth to protest.

“It’s recording when the green light is on,” Quinn said, giving her a look that caused her to bite off her words. “Shield the light with your hand so it can’t be seen.”

“I don’t want-”

“Be a grown-up!” Pearl snapped. “This is no time for a smart-mouthed kid to pitch a hissy fit!”

“So when’s a good time?”

“When nobody has a gun.”

Watching her mother check a nine-millimeter Glock and hold it pressed against her thigh, Jody reluctantly settled back in the bushes and set about learning how to work the recorder.

“An idiot could do this,” she said, fitting the plug in her ear. “It’s wireless and automatic, so why don’t we just leave it hidden here and I’ll go with you?”

But the others were gone.