Robert B. Parker’s The Devil Wins

61

John Millner, his unkempt black hair hanging limp around his shoulders, was busy sharpening a mower blade when Jesse and Suit walked into the maintenance shed on the grounds of Sacred Heart. Millner barely acknowledged their presence, choosing instead to continue scraping a metal rasp along the edge of the blade clamped in the jaws of an old bench vise. Dressed in blue, oil-stained coveralls and scuffed black work boots, Millner wore a pair of protective goggles that, like all the equipment in the shed, had seen better days. The plastic of the goggles was scratched and pitted, the lenses grown foggy with age. A silver-colored space heater shaped like a radar dish sat on the concrete floor a few paces to Millner’s right, its caged element glowing a fierce orange-red. As fierce as it was, it did little to warm the drafty old building. The winds outside rattled the corrugated bay door.

Millner took off his right work glove and ran his index finger along the edge of the freshly sharpened blade. Satisfied, he twisted the vise handle, releasing the blade from the vise’s wood-covered jaws. He slipped his glove back on and took the blade fully into his hand. He turned to face Suit and Jesse, showing them his handiwork.

“Little snowy outside to be mowing lawns, isn’t it?” Suit asked.

Millner sneered at him. “Shows what you know. You do your prep and maintenance work for the spring now. You don’t wait till the grass is up to your balls to sharpen the blades.”

Suit wasn’t having it. “They teach you that in the joint between soap swapping with the boys in the shower?”

“Nah, I learned watching the movie about that tall retard, Sling Blade. Tall retard, kinda reminds me of some cops I know. No offense, Officer Simpson.” Millner smiled a crooked smile full of nasty teeth.

Jesse didn’t like it. He didn’t like the way Millner was acting. There was a little too much cockiness in him. Then again, he didn’t like Millner from the get-go. Still, he didn’t say a word.

“You boys find my van? That why you’re here? Did you deliver it to me?” Millner asked, placing the sharpened blade on the bench and removing the goggles. “That’s pretty good service. You boys have it washed and detailed for me?”

It took a lot to push Suit to lose his temper, but Millner had done a pretty good job of it.

“Listen to me, you piece of—”

“That’s right, John, we’re here to talk about your van,” Jesse said, cutting Suit off. “But we haven’t found it.”

“Then what, you here to give me a status report or something?”

Jesse nodded. “Or something.”

“You mind hurrying up, then? I’ve got another blade to get to and a ton of other work to do.”

“We don’t mind, do we, Suit?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “John, what took you so long to report your van as stolen?” Jesse asked.

“’Cause I didn’t know it was gone till I got back home last night.”

Suit said, “So you didn’t drive it to work?”

Millner shook his head. “Nah. The tranny’s been giving me a little trouble lately, so I got a lift in and a ride to the bar after work.”

Suit made a sad face. “That’s too bad, about your transmission, I mean. So who gave you the rides? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Sure, Officer Simpson, anything to help the cause of justice,” Millner said, putting the next mower blade into the bench vise. “I got a ride in from Sister Marie Frances and Father Bogan took me to the Scupper after work. He let me buy him a beer, as a matter of fact. I walked home from there. That’s when I called in that my van was stolen.”

“Did you leave the grounds during your shift?” Jesse asked.

Millner placed the goggles back on top of his head. “Yesterday? I don’t think so, Chief. Nah. I spent most of the day in the rectory, fixing a leak in the kitchen. You can go on over and see the patch on the wall yourself. I had to remove tiles to get at the pipe.” He plopped the goggles down on his nose, slipped on his gloves again, and started working on the second blade.

Between the glowing steel of the space heater and the grinding of the file against the blade, the air in the shed had taken on a distinctly metallic scent. Suit looked at Jesse for their next move.

“Okay, John,” Jesse said, “we’ll leave you to your work.”

Millner kept his focus on his sharpening. “That’s real good of you, Chief. You’ll find Sister Marie Frances in the main office. Father Bogan is in the gym at the boys’ high school. And do me a favor, huh? Let me know when you find my van. I sure do love that old truck.”

Jesse and Suit were both thankful for the cold, bracing air outside the shed. Suit reached into the cruiser and came out with two bottled waters. They both tried to rinse away that raw, metallic tang.

“You go talk to the nun,” Jesse said. “I’ll take the priest. Let’s meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

“You see all the chemicals and stuff in there. Like a department store of accelerants.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So what do you think, Jesse?”

“I think someone was trying really hard to establish an alibi for himself for yesterday.”

“Almost like he knew he would have to account for his whereabouts.”

“Yeah, Suit. Just like that. Makes you wonder about things.”

“What things?”

“Everything, Suit,” he said, walking toward the boys’ high school. “Everything.”