The Wrong Gun

21

Back at the motel things were really popping.

“Search warrant?” Steve said.

“Right,” Tracy said. “Timberlaine’s daughter called, all upset. The cops were there with a search warrant, what should she do?”

“What did you tell her?”

“What could I tell her? You were off talking to her father, and even if you weren’t, what could you do anyway? If it’s a search warrant, you gotta honor it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “But still.”

“Hey, it’s not like the cops were standing around waiting for you to give permission. She’s on the phone, they’re searching the place, she’s practically hysterical wanting to know what she should do about it and frankly not making much sense. The bottom line is, whatever the cops were looking for, they found it and took off while she was on the phone. At which point she slammed down the receiver, was not there when I called back, and is probably on her way here.”

“Shit. When was this?”

“When she left? Maybe ten minutes ago.”

“Great,” Steve said. He raised his head, bellowed, “Mark!”

Taylor yelled back from the other room, “I’m on the phone.”

Steve strode to the door. “What you got on the warrant?”

Taylor was sitting on the bed with the phone tucked under his chin and a pad and pen in his hands. “Just a minute,” he said irritably, then into the phone, “Hang on, willya?” He raised his chin, dropping the receiver into his lap, and looked up at Steve. “I got nothin’ on the warrant except they served a warrant. That’s what I’m doin’ now, but with one stinkin’ phone it ain’t easy.” Taylor snatched up the receiver again, then looked back up at Steve. “Now hold your horses and let me get on with it. I’ll tell you as soon as I know.”

“Just so you’re happy,” Steve said. He shook his head, went back into the other room.

Tracy, noting his expression, said, “Mark take your head off?”

“Oh? He been snappin’ at you too?”

“Mark hasn’t been quite himself since he heard the gun he bought was the murder weapon.”

“That didn’t really make my day, either. And now this damn warrant.”

“You’re really pissed off.”

“Yeah. And it’s not just what they may have found.”

Tracy frowned. “Oh? Then what is it?”

“The timing.”

“What?”

Steve pointed to the door. “I just got called into the D. A.’s office. Young guy named Vaulding. Slick son of a bitch.”

“So? What did he want?”

“That’s just it. On the surface he wanted to talk me out of pressing for bail in return for keeping us off the witness stand. Or so I thought. Now I just don’t know.”

“You mean?”

“Exactly. I show up to talk to Timberlaine, Vaulding says, ‘Great, he’s out of the way, serve the warrant.’ Then, to make sure I stay out of the way, he calls me into his office.”

“Isn’t that being a little paranoid?”

“Maybe. But just between you and me, that gun turning out to be the murder weapon’s got me spooked too. I feel like I’m walkin’ through a mine field, just waiting to see what blows up next.”

“Steve!” Taylor called from the other room.

Steve Winslow barreled through the door with Tracy right behind.

“You got it?” Steve said.

“On the warrant, no, but something’s up. The reporter just checked in. He says Vaulding-that’s the D.A. out here-”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, he just called a press conference for this afternoon, so something must be up.”

“Any idea what?”

“No, but odds are the warrant must have something to do with it.”

“Yeah, but what? I mean, they already have the gun. What else is there?”

“You got me.” Taylor shrugged. “Hell, maybe that’s not it. Maybe the guy just wants to puff up his chest and say just ’cause Timberlaine’s got money it cuts no ice with him, and he will prosecute him fearlessly to the full extent of the law.”

“Could be. He already gave me the same spiel.”

“Oh?”

“Trying to discourage me from pressing for bail. Timberlaine out on bail would be a political black eye for him. Vaulding intimates if I don’t push for bail, he’ll expedite everything and generally make life easy, including keeping me off the stand.”

“Then what the hell’s this press conference?”

“Well, I didn’t say yes.”

“Will you?”

“I don’t know. It’s in Timberlaine’s best interests and it’s probably the way I’d play it anyway.” Steve chuckled mirthlessly, shook his head. “I just hate to do anything Vaulding wants.”

There came a knock on the door in the other unit. Tracy disappeared through the connecting door, came back ushering in a rather harried-looking Carrie Timberlaine.

“So, what did they get?” Steve demanded.

That was too abrupt for Carrie. “What?”

“The cops. The search warrant. What did they get?”

“I don’t know.”

“Shit,” Steve said, irritably. “It’s like waiting for Christmas and you don’t get a present. What do you know?”

“Hey, ease up,” Tracy said, coming between them. “Don’t mind him, murders make him grouchy. Just what happened with the cops? It must have been very confusing.”

Carrie looked at Tracy gratefully. “That’s just it. With so much going on and cops there all the time anyway, and suddenly there’s more cops with a warrant, and they’ve shown it to me and started searching before it really registered that this was something different.”

“Do you have the warrant?” Steve said.

“No. Should I have?”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Tracy said. “He’s a lawyer, they like to read documents. Just tell us what the cops did.”

“Just what I told you on the phone. They started searching. As soon as it dawned on me this was something different, I called.”

“Right,” Tracy prompted. “And then you heard them leaving and hung up to go see. Now what did you see?”

“I couldn’t really tell.”

“Then how do you know they found something?” Steve put in.

“That’s just it. They were carrying something. I just couldn’t tell what it was.”

“Carrying what? Big, small, what shape was it?”

“Not that big. It was in a plastic bag. You know, like they put the gun in.”

“Was it a gun?” Steve said sharply.

Carrie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“How could you tell? If you didn’t see it.”

“I know. But it was the wrong shape. Longer, thinner. And straight, you know. More like a pipe.”

“Metallic?”

“Yeah. But it wasn’t a gun.”

“Damn. Where’d they find it?”

Carrie bit her lip. “I’m not sure, but I think it was Dad’s room.”

“Got it!” Taylor said, coming through the door from the other unit.

“What?” Steve said.

“The dope on the press conference. Now this is real hush-hush and we’re lucky to get it, but the upshot is Vaulding’s got new evidence.”

“From the warrant?”

“I don’t know about that. This has to do with the murder weapon.”

“What about it?”

“Well, they matched the fatal bullet. But apparently it wasn’t easy.”

Steve frowned. “Jesus Christ, Mark. I don’t want to play twenty fucking questions. Why the hell not?”

“Because someone scratched up the gun barrel.”

Steve’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding!”

Taylor shook his head. “Nope.”

“Of the gun Timberlaine was wearing?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said. With a significant look at Carrie Timberlaine he added, “That gun.”

“Good lord,” Steve said. “So Vaulding’s going to claim Timberlaine tried to protect himself by altering the barrel of the gun. With what? What do they think he used?”

Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know. Most likely a rattailed file.”

“Oh!”

At this low exclamation Steve, Mark and Tracy all turned to see Carrie Timberlaine, eyes wide, face registering startled comprehension.