Winter Prey

CHAPTER 20

Harper sat on the jail bunk, scowling, shaking his head, his yellow teeth bared. His attorney, wearing a salt-and-pepper tweed suit that might have been made during the Roosevelt Administration, sat next to him, fidgeting.

"That ain't good enough," Harper said.

"Let me explain something to you, Russ," Carr said. Carr's double chin had collapsed into wattles, and the circles under his eyes were so black that he looked like he'd lost a bar fight. "Eldon Schaeffer has to get elected county attorney. If he cuts a deal with you, and it turns out you're a member of some sex ring, and that you know who the killer is but you didn't tell us, and Eldon gives you immunity and you walk out of here a free man… Well, Eldon ain't gonna win the next election. He's gonna be out of a job. So he isn't going to cut that deal. He's gonna want some jail time."

"Then he can stick it in his ass," Harper said. He nodded at his attorney. "If Dick here is right, I'll be out of here in an hour."

"You'll risk going to trial for multiple murder to save a couple years in jail? You could do two or three years standing on your head," Lucas said. He was leaning on the cell wall, looking down at Harper. "And I swear to Christ, if we tie you to the killer, if we even find a thread of evidence putting you two together, we'll slap your ass in jail so fast your head'll spin. For accessory to murder. You'll die in prison."

"If you're trying to cut me this kind of a deal, that means you ain't got shit on anybody," Harper said. His eyes flicked toward his attorney, then to Carr. "Take a fuckin' hike, Shelly."

As they filed out of the cell, Carr looked at Lucas and said, "Slap his ass in jail so fast his head'll spin? Some threat. I'm gonna send it in to Reader's Digest."

"I'll sue," Lucas said, and Carr showed a bit of a smile. While they were waiting for the elevator, Harper's attorney came out and joined them. As they were waiting, Carr looked at the attorney and asked, "Why'd you have to go and do this, Dick? Why'd you call the judge? You coulda waited until Monday and everything would have been fine."

"Russ has the right…" The attorney's prominent Adam's apple bobbed up and down. A large Adam's apple, big hands, rough, porous skin, and the suit: he looked like a black-and-white photograph from the Depression.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside, faced the front. "Don't give me any 'rights,' Dick, I know all that," Carr said as they started down. "But we've got five dead and Russ knows who did it. Or he has some ideas. He's the only thing we've got. If he takes off, and we get more dead…"

"He's got a right," the attorney said. But he didn't sound happy.

Carr looked at Lucas. "Phil's body must be on the way to Milwaukee."

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that, Shelly-I really am," Lucas said.

Tears started running down Harper's attorney's face, and he suddenly snuffled and wiped his coat sleeve across his eyes. "God, I can't believe Father Phil's dead," he said. "He was a good priest. He was the best."

"Yeah, he was," Carr said, patting the attorney on the shoulder.

Lacey was walking through the halls, hands in his pockets, peering in through open doors. When he saw Carr, he said, "There you are. Two FBI men just arrived. A couple more may be coming from Washington-a serial-killer team."

"Oh, boy." Carr hitched up his pants. "Where are they?"

"Down in your office."

Carr looked at Lucas. "Maybe they'll do some good."

"And maybe I'll get elected homecoming queen," Lucas said as they started down the hall.

Lacey looked at him. "Did you know your new girlfriend was the homecoming queen?"

"What?" There was no longer any point in being obtuse about his relationship with Weather.

"That's right," Lacey said enthusiastically. "Around homecoming time, people still talk about the dress she wore on the float. It was like one of those real warm days and she had this silver dress. Oh, boy. They called her…" He suddenly snapped his mouth shut and flushed.

"Called her what?"

Lacey looked at Carr and Carr shook his head. "You can't get your foot any deeper in your mouth than it already is, Henry. You might as well tell him," he said.

"Um-Miss Teen Tits of Ojibway County," Lacey said feebly.

"Glad you told me-gives me an edge on her," Lucas said.

"I hope you got an edge on the feebs," Lacey said gloomily. "About two minutes with them, I felt like I had big clods of horseshit on my shoes and straw sticking outa my ears."

"Dat's da feebs," Lucas said. "That's what they do best."

They talked for an hour with the two advance agents, Lansley and Tolsen. The two would have been hard to tell apart except that Lansley was the color of well-sanded birch plywood while Tolsen was polished ebony. They both wore gray suits with regimental neckties, long, dark winter coats with leather gloves, and rubbers on their wingtips.

"… think there's some prospect that our man may be a traveler…"

Lucas, sitting behind Lansley, who was talking, looked past him at Carr and shook his head. No chance it was a traveler: none.

And after a while: "… name of the game is cooperation, and we'll do everything we can…"

Lucas broke in: "What we really need is computer support."

Tolsen was quick and interested. "Of what nature?"

"There are only about seven thousand permanent residents in this county. We can eliminate all women, all children, anyone with dark hair. Our man is obviously psychotic and may have a history of violence. If there's some way your computers could interface with the state driver's license bureau, process Ojibway County drivers and crosscheck the blond-male population with the NCIC records…"

Lansley and Tolsen took notes, Lansley using a hand-sized microcomputer. They came up with some ideas of their own and left in a hurry.

"What the heck was all that about?" Carr asked, scratching his head.

"They've got something to do," Lucas said. "It might even help if we need help three weeks from now."

A deputy knocked, stuck his head in the door. "Harper's out. Put up his gas station with Interstate Bond."

"That really frosts my butt," Carr said.

"Go home and get some sleep. Or check into a motel. You look so bad I'm seriously worried," Lucas said.

"That's a thought-the motel," Carr said distractedly. "What're you going to do?"

"Go someplace quiet and think," Lucas said.

Weather got home a few minutes after six, came in with a deputy, and found Lucas staring into a guttering fire. "This is Marge, my bodyguard," she said to Lucas. The deputy waved and said, "You got it from here," and left. Weather shed her coat and boots, came over to sit beside him. He put an arm around her shoulder. "You ought to throw another log on," she said.

"Yeah… goddammit, there are fewer people in this county than there are in some buildings in Minneapolis. We oughta be able to pick him out. There can't be that many candidates," Lucas said.

"Still think Phil Bergen was murdered?"

"Yeah. For sure. I don't know why he was killed, though. Did he know something? Was he supposed to distract us? What?"

"Schoeneckers'?"

"Not a goddamn thing," Lucas said.

"Could they be dead?"

"We've got to start considering the possibility," Lucas said. "We were lucky to find the Mueller kid. He could've laid out there until spring. Hell, if the killer had driven him two minutes back into the woods, we might not ever have found him."

"Are you watching Harper?"

"That's impossible. Where're you gonna watch him from? We'll check on him every couple of hours, though."

Weather shivered. "The man scares me. He's one of those people who just does what he wants and doesn't care who gets hurt. Sociopath. I don't think he even notices if somebody gets hurt."

They sat quietly for a moment, then Lucas smiled, remembering, and glanced at her. She was looking into the fire, her face serious. "We've been having a pretty good time in bed, haven't we?" he asked.

"Well, I hope so," she said, laughing. She patted his leg. "We fit pretty well."

"Um…" He pulled at his chin, looking into the fire. "There's something… I've always wanted to do, you know… sexually… and I haven't been able to find a woman who could do it."

Her smile flickered. With an edge of uncertainty, she asked, "Well…?"

"I always wanted to jump a homecoming queen wearing nothing but her white high heels and her crown. What do you think?" He pulled her closer.

"Those rotten jerks," she said, pushing him away. "I wasn't going to tell you until ten years from now."

"Miss Teen Tits of Ojibway County," he said.

"You should have seen me," she said, pleased. "The dress was cut fairly low in front, but really low in back. People said I had two cleavages."

"I like the image."

"Maybe we could work something out," she said, snuggling closer. "I don't know if I've still got the crown."