Secret Prey

TWO

LOOKING AS THOUGH HED BEEN DRAGGED through hell by the ankles, a disheveled Del Capslock stumbled out of the mens room in the basement of City Hall, fumbling with the buttons on the fly of his jeans. Footsteps echoed in the dark hallway behind him, and he turned his head to see Sloan coming through the gloom, a thin smile on his narrow face.

Playing with yourself, Sloan said, his voice echoing in the weekend emptiness. Sloan was neatly but colorlessly dressed in khaki slacks and a tan mountain parka with a zip-in fleece liner. I should have expected it; I knew you were a pervert. I just didnt know you had enough to play with.

The old lady bought me these Calvin Kleins, Dell said, hitching up the jeans. They got buttons instead of zippers.

The theory of buttons is very simple, Sloan began. You take the round, flat thing…

Yeah, fuck you, Del said. The thing is, Calvin makes pants for fat guys. These supposedly got a thirtyfour waist. Theyre really about thirty-eight. I cant get them buttoned, and when I do, I cant keep the fuckin things up.

Yeah? Sloan wasnt interested. His eyes drifted down the hall as Del continued to struggle with the buttons. Seen Lucas?

No. Del got one of the buttons. See, the advantage of buttons is, you dont get your dick caught in a zipper.

Okay, if you dont get it caught in a buttonhole. Del started to laugh, which made it harder to button the pants, and he said, Shut up. I only got one more… maybe you could give me a hand here.

I dont think so; its too nice a day to get busted for aggravated faggotry.

You can always tell who your friends are, Del grumbled. Whats going on with Lucas? He got the fly buttoned finally and they started up the stairs toward Lucass new first-floor office.

Fat cat got killed, Sloan said. Dan Kresge, from over at Polaris Bank.

Never heard of him.

You heard of Polaris Bank?

Yeah. Thats the big black-glass one.

He runs it. Or did, until somebody shot his ass up in Garfield County. The sheriff called Rose Marie, who called Lucas, and Lucas called me to ride along.

Just friends, or overtime?

Im putting in for it, Sloan said comfortably. He had a daughter in college; nothing was ever said, but Davenport had been arranging easy overtime for him. Great day for itthough the colors are mostly gone. From the trees, I mean.

Fuck trees. Kresge… its a murder?

Dont know yet, Sloan said. This is opening day of deer season. He was shot out of a tree stand.

If I was gonna kill somebody, I might do it that way, Del said.

Yeah. Everybody says that. Davenports office was empty, but unlocked. Rose Maries in, Sloan said as they went inside. Lucas said if he wasnt here, just wait.

AS LUCAS STOOD UP TO LEAVE, HE ASKED ROSE MARIE Roux, the chief of police, why she didnt do something simple, like use the Patch.

Cause Id have to put patches all over my body to get enough nicotine. Id have to put them on the bottom of my feet.

She was on day three, and was chewing her way through a pack of nicotine gum. Lucas picked up his jacket, grinned faintly, and said, A little speed might help. You get the buzz, but not the nicotine.

Great idea, get me hooked on speed, Roux said. Course, Id probably lose weight. Im gonna gain nine hundred pounds if I dont do something. She leaned across her desk, a woman already too heavy, getting her taste buds back from Marlboro Country. Listen, call me back and tell me as soon as you get there. And I want you to tell me its an accident. I dont want to hear any murder bullshit.

Ill do what I can, Lucas said. He stepped toward the door.

Are you all right? Roux asked.

No. He stopped and half turned.

Im worried about you. You sit around with a cloud over your head.

Im getting stuff done…

Im not worried about thatIm worried aboutyou, she said. Ive had the problemyou know that. Ive been through it three times, now, and doctors help. A lot.

Im not sure its coming back, Lucas said. I havent tipped over the edge yet. I can still… stop things.

All right, Roux said, nodding skeptically. But if you need the name of a doc, mines a good guy.

Thanks. Lucas closed her office door as he left and turned down the hall, by himself, suddenly gone morose. He didnt like to think about the depression that hovered at the edge of his consciousness. The thing was like some kind of rodent, like a rat, nibbling on his brain.

He wouldnt go through it again. A doctor, maybe; and maybe not. But he wouldnt go through it again.

DEL SAT IN ONE OF LUCASS VISITORS CHAIRS, ONE foot on Lucass desk, blew smoke at the ceiling and said, So whatre you suggesting? We send him a fruitcake?

Lucass office smelled of new carpet and paint, and looked out on Fourth Street; a great fall day, crisp, blue skies, young blond women with rosy cheeks and long fuzzy coats heading down the street with their boyfriends, toward the Metrodome and a University of Minnesota football game.

Sloan, who was sitting in Davenports swivel chair, said, The guys hurting. We could… I dont know. Go out with him. Keep him busy at night.

Del groaned. Right. We get our wives, we go out to eat. We talk the same bullshit we talk at the office all day, because we cant talk about Weather. Then we finish eating and go home with our old ladies. He goes home and sits in the dark with his dick in his hand.

So whatre you saying? Sloan demanded.

What Im saying is that hes all alone, and thats the fuckin problem

… Then Del lifted a finger to his lips and dropped his voice. Hes coming.

LUCAS STEPPED INTO THE OFFICE A MOMENT LATER, with the feeling hed entered a sudden silence. Hed felt that a lot, lately.

Lucas was a tall man, hard-faced, broad-shouldered, showing the remnants of a summer tan. A thin line of a scar dropped through one eyebrow onto a cheek, like a piece of fishing line. Another scar slashed across his throat, where a friend had done a tracheotomy with a jackknife.

His hair was dark, touched by the first few flecks of gray, and his eyes were an unexpectedly intense blue. He was wearing a black silk sweatshirt showing the collar of a French-blue shirt beneath it, jeans, and a. 45 in an insidethepants rig. He carried a leather jacket.

He nodded at Del, and to Sloan said, Get out of my chair or Ill kill you.

Sloan yawned, then eased out of the chair. You get your jeans dry-cleaned? he asked.

What? Lucas looked down at his jeans.

They look so crisp, Sloan said. They almost got a crease. When I wear jeans, I look like Im gonna paint something.

When you wear a tuxedo, you look like youre gonna paint something, Del said.

Mr. Fashion Plate speaking, Sloan said.

Del was already wearing his winter parka, olive drab with an East German army patch on one shoulder, an Eat More Muffin sweatshirt, fire-engine-red sneaks with holes over the joints of his big toes, through which were visible thin black dress socksDel had bunion problemsand the oversized Calvin Kleins. Fuck you, he said.

So whats happening? Lucas asked, looking at Del. He circled behind the desk and dropped into the chair vacated by Sloan. He turned a yellow legal pad around, glanced at it, ripped off the top sheet and wadded the paper in his fist.

Were trying to figure how to snap you out of it, Del said bluntly.

Lucas looked up, then shrugged. Nothing to do.

Weathers coming back, Sloan said. Shes got too much sense to stay away.

Lucas shook his head. Shes not coming back, and it doesnt have anything to do with good sense.

You guys are so fucked, Del said.

You say fuck way too much, Sloan said.

Hey, fuck you, pal, Del said, joking, but with an edge in his voice.

Lucas cut it off: Ready to go, Sloan?

Sloan nodded. Yeah.

Lucas looked at Del: Whatre you doing here?

Seeking guidance from my superiors, Del said. Ive got an opium ring with fifty-seven members spread all overMinneapolis and the western suburbs, especially the rich ones like Edina and Wayzata. One or two in St. Paul. Grow the stuff right here. Process it. Use it themselvesmaybe sell a little.

Lucas frowned. How solid?

Absolutely solid.

So tell me. Lucas poked a finger at Del. Wait a minute… youre not telling me that fuckin Genesse is back? I thought he was gone for fifteen.

Del was shaking his head: Nah.

So…

Its fifty-seven old ladies in the Mountbatten Garden Club, Del said. I got the club list.

Sloan and Lucas looked at each other; then Sloan said, What?

And Lucas asked, Whered you get the list?

From an old lady, Del said. There being nothing but old ladies in the club.

What the hell are you talking about? Lucas asked.

When I went over to Hennepin to get my finger sewed up after the pinking shears thing, this doc told me hed treated this old-lady junkie. She was coming down from the opium, but she thought she had the flu or something. It turns out theyve been growing poppies for years. The whole club. They collect the heads at the end of the summer and make tea. Opium tea. A bunch of them are fairly well hooked, brewing up three or four times a day.

Lucas rubbed his forehead. Del…

What? Del looked at Sloan, defensively. What? Should I ignore it?

I dont know, Lucas said. Wherere they getting the seeds?

Seed stores, Del said.

Bullshit, Lucas said. You cant buy opium seeds from seed stores.

I did, Del said. He dug in his parka pocket, pulled out a half-dozen seed packets. Lucas, no gardener, recognized the brand names and the envelopes.

Thats not

Yes, it is. They got fancy names, but I talked to a guy at the university, and brother… He tossed them on Lucass desk… thems opium poppies.

Aw, man. Now Lucas was rubbing his face. Tired. Always tired now.

The hell with the old ladies, Sloan said. Lets get out of here.

Ill talk to you later, Lucas said to Del. In the meantime, find something dangerous to do, for Christs sake.

LUCAS AND SLOAN TOOK LUCASS NEW CHEVY TAHOE: Kresges body, theyd been told, was off-road.

Im not gonna push you about being fucked up, Sloan said. Just let me know if theres anything I can do.

Yeah, I will, Lucas said.

And you oughta think about medication…

Yeah, yeah, yeah…

Is… Hows Weather?

Still in therapy. Shes better without me, and gets worse when Im around. And shes making more friends that Im cut off from. Shes putting together a new life and Im out of it, Lucas said.

Christ.

When she moved out, Lucas said, she left her dress in the closet. The green one, three thousand bucks. The wedding dress.

Maybe it means shes coming back.

I dont think so. I think she abandoned it. Much of the trip north was made in gloomy silence, through the remnants of the autumns glorious color change; but the end was coming, the dead season.

JACOB KRAUSE, THE GARFIELD COUNTY SHERIFF, WAS squatting next to the body, talking to an assistant medical examiner, when he saw Lucas and Sloan walking down the ridge toward them. They were accompanied by a fat man in a blaze-orange hunting coat and a uniformed deputyleading a German shepherd. The deputy pointed at Krause, and turned and went back toward the house.

Is this him? Krause asked.

The AME turned his head and said, Yeah. Davenports the big guy. The guy in the tan coat is Sloan, hes one of the heavyweights in Homicide. I dont know the fat guy.

Hes one of ours, the sheriff said. He had the mournful face of a blue-eyed bloodhound, and had a small brown mole, a beauty mark, on the right end of his upper lip. He sighed and added, Unfortunately.

A few feet away, two crime scene guys were packing up a case of lab samples; up the hill, two funeral home assistants waited with a gurney. The body would be taken to Hennepin County for autopsy. Krause looked a last time at Kresges paper-white face, then stood up and headed back up the path. He took it slowly, watching as Davenport and Sloan and the fat man dropped down the trail like Holmes and Watson on a Sunday stroll with Oliver Hardy. When they got closer, Krause noticed that Davenport was wearing loafers with tassels, that his socks were a black and white diamond pattern, and that the loafers matched his leather jacket. He sighed again, the quick judgment adding to his general irritation.

HELLO. IM LUCAS DAVENPORT… LUCAS STUCK OUT his hand and the sheriff took it, a little surprised at the heft and hardness of it; and the sadness in Davenports eyes. And Detective Sloan, the sheriff finished, shaking hands with Sloan. Im Jake Krause, the sheriff. He looked past them at the fat man. I see youve met Arne.

Back by the cars, the fat man said. What do we got, Jake?

Crime scene, Arne. Id just as soon you dont come up too close. Were trying to minimize the damage to the immediate area.

Okay, the fat man said. He craned his neck a little, down toward the orange-clad body, the AME hovering over it, the crime scene boys with their case.

Accident? Lucas asked.

Krause shrugged. Cmon and take a look, give me an opinion. Arne, you better wait.

Sure thing…

ON THE WAY DOWN TO THE BODY, LUCAS ASKED, Arnes a problem?

Hes the county commission chairman. He got the job because nobody trusted him to actually supervise a department or the budget, Krause said. Hes also a reserve deputy. Hes not a bad guy, just a pain in the ass. And he likes hanging around dead people.

I know guys like that, Lucas said. He looked up at the tree stand as they approached the body and asked, Kresge was shot out of the stand?

Yup. The bullet took him square in the heart, Krause said. I doubt he lived for ten seconds.

Any chance of finding the slug? Sloan asked.

Nah. Its out in the swamp somewhere. Its gone.

But you think he was shot out of the tree stand, Sloan said.

For sure, Krause said. Theres some blood splatter on the guardrail and threads from his coveralls are hanging from the edge of the floorboards up thereno way they should be there unless they snagged when he fell over the edge.

Lucas stepped over next to the body, which lay faceup a foot and a half from a pad of blood-soaked oak leaves. Kresge didnt look surprised or sad or any of the other things he might have looked. He looked dead, like a wadded-up piece of wastepaper. Who moved him?

The first time, other members of the hunting party. They opened up his coat to listen to his heart, wanted to make sure he wasnt still alive. He wasnt. Then me and the doc hereKrause nodded at the AMErolled him up to look at the exit wound.

Lucas nodded to the assistant medical examiner, said, Hey, Dick, I heard you guys were coming up, and theAME said, Yup, and Lucas said, Roll him up on his side, will you?

Sure.

The AME grabbed Kresges coat and rolled him up. Lucas and Sloan looked at the back, where a narrow holea moth might have made itwas surrounded by a hand-sized bloodstain just above the shoulder blade. Lucas said, Huh, and he and Sloan moved left to look at the entry, then back at the exit. They both turned at the same time to look at the slope, then at each other, and Lucas said, Okay, and the AME let the body drop back into place.

Lucas stood and brushed his hands together and grinned at the sheriff. The grin was so cold that the sheriff revised his earlier, quick, judgment. Good one, Lucas said.

What do you think? Krause asked.

The shooter got close, Lucas said.

You wouldnt get that angle through the body, upward like that, unless the shooter was below him, Sloan explained. And if the shooters below himthey all looked back up the slopehe couldnt have been more than thirty or forty yards away. Of course, we dont know how Kresge was sitting. He could have been looking out sideways. Or he could have been leaning back when the slug hit.

Krause said, I dont think so.

I dont either, Lucas said.

So its a murder, Krause said. He shook his head and looked from the body to Lucas. I wish youd keep this shit down in the Cities.

MIND IF I CHECK THE TREE? LUCAS ASKED THE CRIME scene cops.

One of them said, Were done, if its okay with the sheriff.

Go ahead, Krause said.

Lucas began climbing the spikes, looked down just as he reached the platform, and asked, What about motive?

Krause nodded. I asked those people down at the cabinabout that. Instead of a name, I got an estimate. Fifteen hundred, maybe two thousand people.

Sloan said, Yeah?

Theres this merger going on…

Lucas listened to Krauses explanation of the merger as he carefully probed the backpack hung on the tree. He remembered seeing bank-merger stories in theStar-Tribune. He hadnt paid much attentionmore corporate jive, as far as he could tell.

Anyway, he was up here hunting with a bunch of big shots from the bank, Krause said, unwinding his story. Some of them, maybe all of them, are set to lose their big shot jobs.

Those are the people we saw down at the cabin? Lucas asked. Hed finished with the backpack, left it hanging where he found it, and dropped back down the tree.

Yeah, Krause said sourly. They filled me in on the merger business.

Shooting him seems a little extreme, Sloan said.

Why? Krause asked. The question was genuine, and Sloan glanced at Lucas and then looked back at the sheriff, who said, Close as I can tell, he was about to mess up the lives of hundreds of people. Some of themhell, maybe most of themwill never get as good a job again, ever in their lives. And he was doing it just so he could make more money than he already had, and he had a pile of it. Shooting him seems pretty rational to me. Long as you didnt get caught.

I wouldnt express that opinion to the press, Lucas said mildly. He went back to the body, knelt on one knee, and began going through Kresges pockets.

I never say anything to the press that I havent run past my old lady, Krause grunted, as he watched. She hasnt turned me wrong yet. A second later, he added, There is one other possibility. For the shooting. His wife. Hes right in the middle of a divorce.

That could be something, Lucas agreed. He squeezedboth of Kresges hands through their gloves, then stood up and rubbed his hands together.

These folks at the cabin said the divorce is signed, sealed, and delivered, that the wife really took a chunk out of his ass.

Makes it sound less likely, Sloan said.

Yeah, unless she hates him, Lucas said. Which she might.

Sloan opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, thinking suddenly of Weather. Krause asked, Find anything new in the backpack?

Couple of Snickers, couple packs of peanut M and Ms, half-dozen hand-heater packs.

Same thing I found, Krause said.

Do you deer hunt, Sheriff? Lucas asked.

Nope. Im a fisherman. I was gonna close out the muskie season this afternoon, beat the ice-up. I was loading my truck when they called me. Why?

It gets as cold on a tree stand as it does on a November day out muskie fishing, Lucas said.

Coldern hell, Krause said.

Thats right. But he hadnt eaten anything and hadnt used any heat packs, even though he brought them along and mustve intended to use them, Lucas said. So he was probably shot pretty soon after he got to the stand.

Did anyone hear any early shots? Sloan asked.

I asked the other people about unusual shots, but nobody said anything was out of order. Bone said he thought either Kresge or one of the other guys, a guy named Robles, had fired a shot just after the opening. But Robles said he didnt, and his rifle is clean, and sos Kresges.

How long had they been sitting?

About forty-five minutes.

Lucas nodded: Then that was probably the killing shot. Hed still have been pretty warm up to that point.

They talked for a few more minutes, then left the AME with the body and headed back through the woods toward the cabin. As they passed the mortuary attendants, now sittingon the gurney, Krause said, Hes all yours, boys.

Been a nice month, up to now, the sheriff said, rambling a bit. No killings, no rapes, no robberies, only a half-dozen domestics, a few drunk-driving accidents, and a couple of small-time burglaries. This sort of blots the record.

Lucas said, The killer had to find the place in the darkso he had to know where it was, exactly.

Unless he came after daylight, Krause said. Thats possible.

Yeah, but when we were coming in, your deputythe one with the dog? pointed out where this Robles guy was sitting, and generally where the other people were. So the killer would have to take a chance on being seen, unless he really knew the layout.

And if he knew all that, hed probably be recognized by the others, Sloan said. Which means he probably came in when it was dark.

Unless hes one of these guys, Krause said. These guys would have all the information, plus an excuse for walking around with guns… and theyd know that nobody would come looking at the sound of a shot.

It could be one of these guys, Lucas said. But itd take guts.

Or a crazy man, Sloan said.

AT THE END OF THE TRACK THEY COULD SEE A HALFDOZEN people sitting and standing on the cabin porch, a man in a red plaid shirt talking animatedly to the others. A short man in a blue suit sat apart from them.

Whats the situation with these people? Lucas asked as they started down the slope toward the cabin. Who questioned them?

I did, and one of our investigators, Ralphthats Ralph in the blue suit.

Is he good? Lucas asked.

The sheriff thought for a minute and then said, Ralphcouldnt pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel.

Sloan asked, So how come…?

I try to keep him out of the way, but he was at the office and answered the phone this morning.

Did he collect all the guns? Lucas asked.

No, but I did, Krause said. Two of them had been firedboth people had deer to show for it. The others look clean.

I saw the deer hanging down by the cabin… Lucas said. Then: Get your crime scene guys to check their hands and faces for powder traces. And count shellsfind out what they claim to have fired, and do a count.

Im doing all that, except for the shells, Krause said. He looked up at Lucas. Im going by the book. The whole book. My problem is more along the lines of interrogation and so on. Expertise.

Lucas tipped his head at Sloan: Sloan is the best interrogator in the state.

Sloan grinned at the sheriff and said, Thats true.

Then wed like to borrow you for a while, Krause said. If you got the time.

Fine with me, Sloan said. Overtime is overtime.

Is there any possibility that you could do some running around Minneapolis for me? Krause asked.

Sloan looked at Lucas. Ive got a couple of things going

… Sherrill is doing research on that Shack thing, but shes not getting much. Maybe she could do some running around.

Lucas nodded. Ill call her this afternoon, on my way back. Anything you break out of these guys, call it down to her. Ill have her talk to Kresges wife, check for girlfriends…

Or boyfriends, Sloan said.

Or boyfriends. And Ill have her start talking to people in his officesecretaries and so on. Lucas looked at Krause. I dont want to take over your investigation…

No-no-no, dont worry about that, Krause said hastily.

The more you can do, the better. My best guys are busiern two-dick dogs in a breeding kennel… And my other guys would have a hard time finding Minneapolis, much less anybody in it.

Sounds like you have some problems, Sloan said. First Arne, then Ralph…

Were going through a transitional period, Krause said grimly. Then: Look, Im the new guy up here. I was with the highway patrol for twenty-five years, and then last fall I got myself elected sheriff. The office is about fifty years out of date, full of deadwood, and all the deadwood is related to somebody. Im cutting it down, but it takes time. Ill take any help I can get.

Whatever we can do, Lucas said.

Krause nodded. Thanks. Hed been prepared to dislike the Minneapolis guys, but it hadnt turned out that way. Actually, he sort of liked them, for city people. Sloan especially, but even Davenport, with his shoe tassels and expensive clothes. He glanced at Davenport again, quickly. From a little bit of a distance you might thinkpussy. You didnt think that when you got closer to him. Not after youd seen his smile.

He added, I dont think Im gonna get too far up here. Matter of fact, I dont think Im going to get anywhere everything about this shooting was set up in the Cities.

They were coming up to the porch, and Sloan said, quietly, So lets go jack up these city folks. See if anybody gets nervous.