Secret Prey

SHERRILL WAS SKEPTICAL.

More than skeptical: she was absolutely nasty. We got diddly, Lucas. I dont care what the odds are, if it doesnt work in court, it doesnt work. And the goddamn killing is so old that theres no chance of making a case.

Helps to know who did it, Del said. Sherrill had come in wearing jeans, high-top Nikes, a suede jacket, and a slightly too tight fuzzy white sweater that showed her figure to exceptional advantage. Lucas, Sloan, and Del were resolutely meeting her eyes, though the pressure eventually got to Del and he slumped back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

Cmon, Del, look at the Cat case, Sherrill said. Everybody in the office knows George Cat killed his old lady. It doesnt do any good, because we cant prove it. Its gonna be even harder with McDonald, because McDonald has every lawyer in the world.

Still helps to know, Del muttered.

Because we think Wilsons done about four of them, Lucas said. If we can put together a pattern, argue it, and have semiconvincing evidence on one, a juryll pack him away.

So what do you want? Sloan asked.

I want to tear him apart. I want to look him over with a microscope. I want to get a search warrant and pull his house down.

Dont think weve got enough for a warrant, Del said.

So lets fuckin get it, Lucas said. Sloan, can you break away from the Ericson case for a couple of days?

For a while, he said.

Ask Frank. And if he says okay, look at ODell again. See if theres any way McDonald could have finessed it to get into the apartment. Del, you look at Arris again. See if theres anything else. Marcy, you take Ingall. Im going up north again, right away. I want to think about the Kresge thing again. See if I can figure out how he did it. Lets meet again tomorrow at nine oclock. And Ive got my car phone if you need me before then.

Why dont you get a real walk-around phone? Del asked. Everybody else has one.

Cause then people would call me up, Lucas said. And I couldnt say I mustve been out.

Sloan nodded and he and Del left. Sherrill lingered. Youre going up north?

Yeah. I want to talk to His phone rang and he grabbed it, lifting a finger to Sherrill so shed wait: Davenport.

Lucas this is Sergeant Ogram over in St. Paul. We talked

Yeah, yeah. Whatd you get?

I talked to my pal in the FBI and he called down to the fingerprint people and then he called me back: he says its maybe a hundred to one against having the wrong guy.

So we got him.

You got him. And listen, that slug fragments on the way over in a squad. Oughta be there about now.

Thanks. See ya.

Lucas hung up: We got him… Anyway, I want to go up north and talk to the caretaker and walk the place a little.

Okay. She turned to go, but she was going slowly.

You got a problem? Lucas asked.

She stopped again, looked at him and said, No, and turned back toward the door. Lucas thought, Uh-oh. Hed never in his life gone through a little sequence like that when the womandidnthave something to say, and one way or another, he almost always wound up getting his ass kicked.

Okay, if youre sure.

I may give you a call tonight, she said. She was nibbling the inside of her lip, as if distracted by something. I do have something I sort of want to talk about.

LUCAS CALLED KRAUSE AT THE GARFIELD COUNTY courthouse before he left and arranged to meet Kresges part-time caretaker at the cabin. The trip north was a good one: quick up the interstate, dry and fast on the back highways. The small towns were buckling down for winter: a man on a small green and yellow John Deere was mowing what must have been a glorious summer garden, now all brown stalks and dead leaves; a man in a camouflage jacket was shooting arrows across his backyard at two archery butts made of bundled wood shavings; an Arctic Cat dealership was running a special on snowmobile tune-ups and a closeout on Yamaha ATVs.

Krause was waiting at the cabin, stepped into the yard and frowned when he saw the Porsche slipping down thedriveway. Lucas punched it into an open space next to a Ford truck, climbed out. Below the cabin, the small lake showed a collar of ice, now out six feet from the shoreline.

Didnt recognize the vehicle, Krause said. Boy, thats something; dont see many of those around here.

Had it for years, Lucas said, looking back at the 911. Im thinking about trading it in for something a little larger.

Wouldnt imagine itd do you too much good out here in the winter.

Not too much, Lucas agreed. A weathered, whitehaired man in his late sixties or early seventies had come around a corner of the cabin, carrying a gas-powered brush cutter. He put it down by the cabin steps and Krause said, Marlon, this heres Chief Davenport from Minneapolis, and Chief, this is Marlon Wiener.

They shook hands, and Lucas said, I just sorta need to walk around the place and chat for a while…

Ill leave you to it, Krause said. I got some paperwork with me, Im gonna sit inside with Mrs. Wiener and drink some coffee. Holler if you need me.

LUCAS WANTED TO LOOK AT ALL THE TREE STAND LOCATIONS. The transcripts of Sloans interrogations had given the order in which the hunters had dispersed to the stands, but said nothing about the terrain itself.

We got a six-wheeler here, we could ride up, unless you rather walk, Wiener said.

Lets walk, Lucas said. They all walked the morning of the shoot, right?

Thats right, Wiener said.

So tell me about Kresge, Lucas said, as they started through the fallen leaves toward the track around the lake. Good guy, bad guy, what do you think?

Wouldnt have wanted to work for him on a daily basisyou know, right next to him, Wiener said. He was all right with me. Told me what he wanted done and sometimes Id suggest stuff, and he usually told me to do thattoo. My wifed keep the place clean, come down a couple of times a week to dust and vacuum and so on.

That seems like quite a lot of work, Lucas said.

Well, he liked to have cars in his driveway. He was always worried he was gonna be burglarized or something. Not saying that it couldnt happen. He told me once that instead of working all day on a job, hed be happier if Id break it up so Id be around here every day, one time or another.

Did he have parties, or lots of guests? People coming and going?

No, not a lot of thembut he did have one big party every summer for management people at the bank,

Wiener said. Theyd come up here and swim off the dock and drink and the kidsd fish for bluegills and everybodyd go down to the range and shoot for a while.

Hes got a gun range here?

Just a gully, shooting against the end of it. You know, twenty-five feet to a hundred yards.

Twenty-five feet? These are handguns?

Yeah, and. 22 rifles for the kids. You know, just fartin around.

Huh. Handguns. A handgun would be interesting, especially a big one, like a. 44 Mag or a. 45 Colt or a. 357 Maximum. McDonald could have carried it in concealed, come back, shot Kresge, thrown the gun away. Although the ME thought the killing shot had come from a rifle, a powerful handgun might be an alternative. The sheriff took an inventory of guns in the cabin. I didnt see any handguns on the list.

I dont know, they never asked me about it. They just cleaned out the gun cabinet, and that was it.

Was Kresge big on handguns?

Naw, not really. I mean, some. Most of the handguns were brought down by the guests. City people dont get to shoot that much, and they all seemed to like it, get a few beers in them. Mr. Kresge had a handgun, because I saw it: it was a Smith and Wesson. 357 Magnum, silver. But Ithink he brought it with him, when he came up from the Cities.

A. 357 Magnum? Or maximum?

Oh, I think… a Magnum. Never heard of maximum.

And he brought it with him.

I think. Then, its not exactly a handgun, or maybe it is… but he had a Contender. That should have been on the sheriffs list. That was up here.

A Contender? A Contender would be perfect.

You know, one of the

I know Contenders. Scoped?

Yeah.

I dont think that was on the inventory.

Should have been. He keeps it in the gun cabinet. At least, he did. Unless he took it back.

Well check that, Lucas said. Do you know Wilson McDonald? Big guy?

Wiener nodded. Yeah, Ive seen him a time or two.

Whatd he shoot when he came up here?

Wiener shook his head: Couldnt tell you. Dont even know if he was a shooter, tell you the truth. Mr. Robles, he was a shooter: hed help instruct the kids and shoot off his mouth about everything about guns. But I think Mr. McDonald was mostly a drinker. Thats what I remember about him.

THEY FOLLOWED THE SHORELINE AROUND THE LAKE to the first stand, where Robles had been stationed. Lucas went down to the stand, climbed the tree, and eased himself out onto the platform of two-by-fours.

Did you build the stands? Lucas called down to Wiener.

Naw, a couple of boys up from Wyoming built em, he said. They were joking about putting in electricity.

The tree stand was one of the more comfortable that Lucas had been in. He could stretch his legs, lean back against the tree trunk, and still look out over the hillside edging the alder swamp. The swamp itself was dotted withstands of aspen, signs of higher ground, with a big, thick island in the middle. Here and there he could see shiny lenses of ice, where a stretch of open water lay at the surface. All around, he could make out the faint telltale trails threading through the brush, signs that deer were working the place. Robless stand was uphill from what looked like a major deer interchange.

Theres a finger of land goes out into the swamp from there, Wiener called. Deer can walk right out into that stand of aspens in the middle. Mand probably drown if he tried to follow; before freeze-up, anyway.

Okay…

They checked all the other stands in turn, spread out over three quarters of a mile of trail, but all focused on the swamp, and pathways into it and out of it. McDonalds stand was uphill and not far to the left of one of the big lenses of thin ice.

Suppose, Lucas thought, McDonald had lifted the Contender from the gun cabinet in the early morning just before the group left the cabin. That would explain why it was missing. And the Contender, long for a pistol, was still short enough that he could have concealed it under a hunting parka. Then, in the dark, he walks back down the track to the hillside above Kresges stand, waits for the shooting to begin, fires a shot killing Kresge, walks back to his stand, and pitches the Contender into the swamp. Climbs the tree… shazam. Hes up in his tree stand just like the others, and never fired his gun…

Lets go, he said to Wiener, as he climbed down.

You figure anything out? Wiener asked.

Maybe, Lucas said. What time did you get here the day Kresge was shot?

About ten oclock, after I heard… I was supposed to come in around noon with my trailer and wed haul any deer carcasses into the registration station and then over to the meat locker. They figured to be out of there about noon, one way or the other, the old man said. The sheriff asked me about the guy the telephone man sawthe one walkingalong the edge of the woodsbut I just wasnt around. Sorry.

The hunter in the woods. Lucas had almost forgotten. Of course, it could have been anybody, another hunter just crossing the property to get back to his car. Damn it, he said aloud. Another hunter didnt feel right; Lucas was a believer in coincidences, except when they explained too much. And if the man in the hunting coat was the killer, and if the telephone man had been right about his size, then McDonald wasnt the killer.

Beg pardon?

If somebody was walking in the woods like the telephone guy said, whered he be going?

Sounds like he was heading back to the cabin.

Thatd be a problem, Lucas said.

KRAUSE WAS WORKING ON THE KITCHEN TABLEWHEN he got back, a battered leather briefcase next to his foot. Mrs. Wiener was washing dishes, and the odor that came from the cabins oven was so wonderful that Lucas almost fainted with the impact.

Whats cooking?

Cinnamon rollsthey should be just about ready, she said, turning from the sink. She was a chubby, pink-faced woman with kinky white hair. She took a dish towel from the stove handle, dried her hands, and opened the oven. Perfect, she said.

Krause had gotten up from the table to look. I get the first one, he said.

Theyve got to cool, she said firmly. And Ive got some frosting. You all go sit down.

Krause retreated to the table and his papers. Anything good? he asked Lucas.

Lucas said, You know what a Contender is? Long pistol, single-shot, breaks open like a shotgun?

Ive seen em, Krause said.

You didnt show one on the inventory of guns taken out of the house.

There wasnt one, Krause said. There were three rifles and two shotguns.

You got a diver on your staff? Lucas asked.

Sure. You think you know where the gun is?

Maybe. Itd be nice if it were right downhill from McDonalds stand. Theres a big patch of water there… I wouldnt be surprised if he pitched it in there.

I dont know about diving in swamps, Krause said doubtfully. It might mess up the scuba gear. I can check.

Hell need a metal detector, Lucas said. Mrs. Wiener said, Theres a gun just like that in the drawer in the gun cabinet.

Lucas looked at Krause and Krause closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and said, Shit. Then at Mrs. Wiener, Excuse the language, and then at Lucas: I told Ralph to take the guns out of the cabinet. I didnt check.

Wiener said, Well, lets go look, and Mrs. Wiener said, I saw it while I was cleaning. I dusted the cabinet cause they left it open, and thats one place I usually cant dust.

The gun cabinet was built into an internal wall, behind a set of shallow shelves. A key fit into a small lock that was out of sight below one of the shelves, and the entire unit swung out. Inside was an empty gun rack with space for eight long guns, and below the rack, two closely fit drawers.

Was this a big secret, or did everybody know about it? Lucas asked Wiener.

Hell, all his friends knewall the guests. It was just supposed to hide the guns from burglars. But when he had one of those parties, the cabinetd just be standing open.

Okay.

Top drawer, Mrs. Wiener said.

Did you move the gun? Lucas asked.

No. I never touched it. As soon as I saw a gun in the drawer, I shut it.

She dont like guns, Wiener said, as Lucas gently pulled the drawer open.

And there was the Contender, with a Nikon scope, sitting neatly on a black plastic pad with two boxes of. 308 ammunition off to the side.

That goddamn Ralph, Krause said. He never opened the drawers.

Lucas took a pen from his pocket, slipped it through the guns trigger guard, lifted it out of the drawer, and carried it over to the kitchen table and placed it carefully on the table. Then, using a paper napkin to unlock the barrel, and touching only the tip of the stock and the tip of the barrel, he pushed the barrel down and open. A spent shell ejected onto the table.

Dont touch it, Lucas said. He knelt and looked through the barrel, said, Yeah. Fired and never cleaned. He looked at Wiener: Do you know anything about Kresges gun habits?

Wiener shrugged: He always cleaned them. Big thing, you know, sit around and bullshit about the Army and shooting and chain saws and clean the guns.

Krause again said, Goddamnit, and then, a moment later, Thats the gun, you betcha. That goddamn Ralph.

Mrs. Wiener…

Sophia, she said.

Sophia, do you have any plastic bags… garbage bags or anything?

Sure. Right here.

Sophia produced a box of kitchen garbage bags. She stripped one out and held it open, while Lucas stuck a pencil in the barrel of the Contender and gently slipped it inside. The shell went into a sandwich bag.

Ill have them in the lab tonight, Lucas said. Ill get somebody in to look at them right away.

Krause was still fuming, pushing papers into his briefcase. I gotta go. Im gonna find that sonofabitch and Im gonna choke him to death. He couldnt

Sophia Wiener broke in: You dont have time for a roll?

Krauses eyes clicked to the tray of cinnamon rolls, cooling on the stovetop with the pan of warm frosting next to them.

Well, he said. Maybe one.