Secret Prey

VCR.

Mayberry shoved the tape into the VCR and punched a few buttons, bringing the television up. I looked at the tape last night… man, its been a long time. I could hardly remember who was who. Anyway, Arris shows up at about 224 on the dial…

He was running through the tape; at the index number 210 he stopped the tape, then restarted it at real-time speed. They were both standing to look at the picture.

Okay, Mayberry said, tapping the screen. Here we have a parade of people going by… lots of women, going down to the meat rack. Half a dozen guys.

The tape was black-and-white, focused on a thin man with a mustache selling soda, cigarettes, bread, and gasoline over a small counter in a convenience store. In the background, through a window and past two pair of gas pumps, people occasionally walked by the store, most of them on the far side of the street.

Okay, Mayberry said. Here we come up to Arris… This woman goes by and there he is. He jabbed at the screen. Arris was wearing a light-colored shirt and what might have been tan slacks.

Pretty blurry, Lucas said, his eyes less than a yard from the screen. Cant see his face.

Not very well, Mayberry agreed. He stopped the tape, rewound it a few turns, and Arris rolled through the pictureagain, this time in slow motion. We got the ID by having a bunch of his friends look at it, and they picked him out by, you know, general appearance, the flappy way he walked. And the dress was right. You can see his sleeves were rolled up, and thats right.

Nobody looks like McDonald, Lucas said, watching the people parade past the store.

You sure hes your guy? Mayberry asked.

Hes the guy we got a hard tip on, Lucas said.

Most of these people were going down to the rack, Mayberry said. But Arris was just out for a walk, and he went on beyond it. So he was just about alone when he was shot, a block and a half further on. So if youre looking for the killer… hes quite a bit further down.

Jelly told me he didnt think it was random.

Hes usually right, Mayberry said.

If it wasnt random, the shooterd almost have to be following him, Lucas said. He couldnt expect just to walk down the street and run into Arris at a convenient place to shoot. Especially not if Arris would recognize him. Hed want to come up behind him.

Well, Arris walked every night. Nobody knows if he took the same route every night, but his neighbors say he usually started out the same way. You want to look at this again?

Nah, thats okay. What about the print on the shell?

We know McDonalds got a fingerprint file, weve got NCIC confirmation on thathe had a secret clearance with the National Guard, Mayberry said. Theyre supposed to be sending us something right away, but it wasnt here five minutes ago. I had Chad Ogram pull up the print file on the shell. You know Ogram?

Think I met him, Lucas said.

Mayberry had been rewinding the tape, now popped it out of the VCR and handed it to Lucas. This is for you. Lets go see Ogram.

Ogram worked in a bathroom-sized office stuffed with filing cabinets. At least one clock sat on each flat surfacein the office, and a half-dozen more hung on the walls. Ogram, a thin man with vanishing hair, bent over his green metal desk, his bald spot as pink as a newborns gums.

Chad, said Mayberry, and Ogram sat up with a start. You know Lucas.

Yeah, hey, Ogram said vaguely, glancing at Lucas and then bending over his desk again. I got the fax.

What do you think? Mayberry asked.

Well, heck, Ogram said. You know theres not enough for a match.

Yeah, Lucas said, I was just wondering…

But McDonalds right thumb matches what weve got, Ogram said. We got a piece of a whorl and hes got a whorl that looks just like our piece.

Mayberry and Lucas looked at each other. Are you sure? Lucas asked.

Pretty sure: I have to rescale the fax to get an overlay, but yeah: it looks just like it.

What are the chances its someone else? Lucas asked.

Ogram scratched his bald spot with his right middle finger. I dont know. Ten to one against. Hundred to one. Not enough for court, but if you come to me and say weve got a partial and a suspect, and we get this much… Id say we got him.

Jesus, Lucas said to Mayberry. This cant be true.

Why not? Mayberry asked.

Its too easy, Lucas said. Its never this easy. And to Ogram: I kind of need to pin down the odds.

I know a guy at the FBI who could give you an idea. He fools around with that sort of math thing. Statistics and odds and chances.

Call him, Lucas said. And call me in Minneapolis when you find out. Wilson motherfuckin McDonald.

Lucas headed for the elevators with Mayberry two steps behind. Lucas pushed the call button, turned and jabbed a finger at Mayberry: Hey: Youve got a slug, right?

Piece of one, anyway.

And the ME took a piece of one out of ODellthebanker woman who got shot. Lets get them together and do an analysis and see if they match.

Okayyou guys want to do it?

Sure. Send it over.

Itll be twenty minutes behind you, Mayberry said. Hot dog, I love this. This case has been open forever.

LUCAS CALLED SLOAN FROM HIS CAR, SAID, WE GOT Abreak in the Kresge case: get Sherrill and Del if theyre around, and meet me at my office in twenty minutes.

Who done it?

Our pal, Wilson McDonald.

Youre shittin me.

I shit you not, Lucas said. The problem is gonna be proving it.

He punched Sloan off, found his notebook, looked up the number for Bones office, and punched it in as he accelerated out onto I-94. Bones assistant took the call: Chief Davenport: Everybodys up in the boardroom right now. I think they may be picking a new CEO. So unless its a major emergency…

Is Wilson McDonald in there?

Yes, of course. Hes one of the candidates.

Thanks. Ill call back. Shed told him what he wanted to know: that McDonald was there, at the bank.