Execution of Innocence

by Christopher Pike

  “We don’t know if it was fully loaded,” he said. “The powder marks could have been from another time.”

  Riles shook his head, his eyes on the girls the whole time. They couldn’t hear his whispered reply. “The marks are all identical. I think this gun was clean before it was fired tonight.” He paused. “I think it was fired four times.”

  “But Kohner thought Dick had been shot at point blank range,” Sharp said. “How could the person miss the first three times?”

  “He could have been farther away when he first opened fire.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Riles shrugged. He stepped toward the girls and held the gun up for them to see. He shined his flashlight on it for effect. The girls cowered at the sight of it. Maybe a sign that they had seen it before? Riles held it so that it was only inches from their trembling faces. It was cold, this long winter night, only a short time until dawn. Riles spoke, “Have either of you seen this gun before?”

  “No,” Hannah said.

  Mary shook her head and stared down at her feet.

  “This is a three fifty-seven magnum,” Riles said. “It shoots either three fifty-sevens—a powerful round—or ordinary thirty-eights. This gun fires six rounds. There are two rounds in it now—thirty-eights. Somebody must have fired off the other four rounds. Now Dick was shot with a hollow point thirty-eight. Chances are—since his body was found near here—that he was shot with this gun. We already know that Charlie's dad owned a gun like this. Chances are this is his. We'll be able to confirm that once we get back to town. After we study the gun, we'll be able to confirm many facts.” He paused and his eyes bore into each of them. “Are you sure neither of you has seen this gun before?”

  “I've never seen it before,” Hannah said, and there was a note of defiance in her voice. She glanced over at Mary, who was still staring down in the direction of China.

  “I don't know anything about this gun,” Mary muttered. “Can we go home?”

  “Not yet,” Sharp said, standing beside his partner.

  Hannah was angry. “You have no right to keep us. My father told you that at the station. You have to arrest us to hold us.”

  Mary raised her head and gave her a quick look that spoke clearly. Shut your mouth and don’t give them any ideas about arresting us. But Hannah ignored her. Sharp gestured back the way they had come, where they had parked their car.

  “We want to study the spot where we found your brother, Hannah,” he said, and there was a gentleness in his voice. “If that would be all right with you?”

  Hannah hesitated. “I’d rather not look at the spot if you don't mind.”

  “Will you come with us?” Riles asked Mary.

  Mary touched her cold face with her gloved hands. It was almost as if she thought her skin were made of porcelain, and might break at any moment. She nodded her head slowly.

  “If you want,” she said quietly.

  Dick had been found lying on his back, staring up at the sky, his eyeballs frozen, but not the rest of him. He hadn’t been lying there all that long before he was discovered on a routine swing through the woods. Otherwise, in the zero temperatures, his whole body would have been stiff as—well, as stiff as a corpse.

  Both Riles and Sharp knelt in the snow by the bloody spot, the red liquid frozen in a body-shaped depression like drippings from a meat locker. Hannah stood off to the left by the patrol car but Mary hovered nearby, her arms clasped across her chest. She kept moving to keep out the cold, or maybe it was because she was nervous. Riles frowned as he studied the frozen blood.

  “There isn’t much here,” he said.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Sharp said.

  “He should have bled more. For godsakes, he was shot through the head. There should be blood all over this snow.”

  “But he died instantly. His heart stopped immediately.” Sharp paused. “We could be wrong. We might want to bring Kohner out here.”

  “We’ll bring him out tomorrow. This snow—or the blood—isn’t going to melt in the next twenty-four hours.” Riles glanced up at Mary, who didn't appear to be listening. He cleared his throat and spoke to her. “I don’t think your friend was killed here. What do you think of that?”

  Mary was very pale as she glanced at him. “I don't know what you mean.”

  Riles stood. “I think he was killed somewhere else, and his body was dumped here. Would you know anything about that?”

  “No,” Mary said. She glanced at Hannah, who was smoking a cigarette and staring at the sky. Riles took a step toward Mary with Sharp at his back.

  “You look scared, Mary,” Riles said. “Something special bothering you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?” Riles asked.

  “No.” Mary paused. “Yeah, this place. I hate this place. Can we go now?”

  Sharp spoke in a soft soothing tone. “You can talk to us, Mary. Hannah can't hear us here. If you have something you want to tell us, tell us now.”

  Mary went back to searching for China. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “Are you sure?” Riles asked. “The last time you saw Dick he was sitting in his car—alone—at midnight?”

  Mary looked up, nodded. “That's what I said.”

  “Where was Charlie at midnight?” Sharp asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mary said. “I told you I didn't know.”

  Riles took another step closer. He was practically in her face. “Who are you protecting, Mary? Charlie? Hannah? Do you think they'll bother protecting you when the truth of what happened here comes out?”

  Mary seemed to be having trouble breathing, but then she controlled herself. “I'm not protecting anyone,” she whispered.

  “I don't believe it,” Riles said, glaring at her.

  The three of them walked back toward the car, toward Hannah. But along the way Riles suddenly stopped and pointed to car tracks that led away from the Crossroads in the direction of Whistler, a neighboring town. Sharp followed Riles as he raised an arm and pointed.

  “What are you thinking?” Sharp asked.

  “That somebody who was out here tonight went to Whistler. Or at least started in that direction.” Riles stepped to where both Mary and Hannah could hear him. He pointed out the tire tracks to the girls. There were several sets that overlapped in the snow. “Did any of you drive down this road tonight?” he asked.

  “No,” the girls said together, a shade too quickly, Riles thought. He almost laughed out loud as he turned to his partner.

  “We're definitely checking out this road,” Riles said.

  Mary appeared worried as Hannah stepped forward.

  “Not with us you’re not,” Hannah said with strength. “Either you take us back to town right now or you arrest us.”

  Riles peered at Hannah through his frosty breath. Sharp came up behind his partner and put a hand on his shoulder. Sharp was concerned but Riles seemed past that point.

  “We don't have enough evidence to arrest them,” Sharp whispered in his ear.

  “I don’t care,” Riles said. “I'm tired of this charade.”

  “They’ll be out before the sun is up,” Sharp warned.

  “A lot can happen between now and then.” Riles turned toward the car and nodded to Sharp. “Read them their rights. Then we take a drive up this road.”

  Sharp did as he was told. The girls were under arrest.

  Hannah just snickered. Mary looked as if she wanted to kill her friend.

  They took a drive on the road that led to Whistler. Sharp drove to the side of the tracks, trying not to disturb them. But the road was narrow and he failed miserably. Riles leaned out the window, his flashlight bouncing off the trees, the road, the snow. They had driven perhaps ten minutes when he motioned Sharp to stop.

  “What is it?” Sharp asked.

  “Turn off the engine; we’re getting out,” Riles said as he opened his door.

  Off to the right side of the road, beside a
bush, was another pool of frozen blood. This one was larger than the other. It looked as if someone had lost at least a pint, if not twice that. Riles kept his light focused on it as he knelt beside the dark ice. He nodded grimly.

  “I think we've discovered where Dick really died,” he said.

  Sharp wasn't sure. “We'll have to take a sample of this blood to compare to the other. I have plastic bags in the trunk. Kohner can type them right away.”

  Riles glanced at the girls, who hadn't gotten out of the car. Mary had rolled down her window, however.

  “How does it feel to be under arrest for murder?” Riles asked casually.

  “We didn't do anything,” Mary muttered, although she seemed worried about the stain on the road. She pointed. “What's that?”

  “I'll give you one good guess,” Riles said as he stood. He spoke to his partner. “Take your sample. We'll get another sample from the other site on the way back.” He turned. “I want to look around a bit, before anyone else gets out here.”

  Riles found another frozen blood puddle a few seconds later, not twenty feet up the road. This one was larger than the first, but not so large as the second. Still, whoever had made it had lost a lot of blood. The big question was if it had all come from the same person.

  “The body must have been moved a few times,” Sharp said.

  “No way,” Riles said. “There would be bloody tracks connecting the puddles.”

  “Not if someone wrapped his head.”

  “If they wrapped his head once we wouldn't have so many puddles. No, I think we're going to discover that these blood samples don’t all match.”

  Sharp considered. “You think Charlie died here as well?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “But he’s our main suspect,” Sharp protested.

  “Not if he’s dead he isn't,” Riles said. “I'm telling you, somebody fired that gun four times.”

  “Maybe,” Sharp said and then lowered his voice. “I still think you overplayed our hand by arresting the girls. Judge Pierce will give them bail in five seconds. And you know Hannah’s father is going to wake the old goat up the moment we get back to town. The two play golf together all summer.”

  Riles was smiling. He nodded to shoe prints in the snow beside the last puddle of frozen blood. There were a variety of shapes, each captured in a solid mold of ice.

  “Get the girls out here,” he said. “I want to check the imprints of their sneakers.”

  Sharp turned the car headlights back on while the girls stood shivering not far from the tracks around the third puddle. It was only here that there were clear tracks. The rest of the snow was too messed up. Riles got down on his hands and knees and told the girls to each raise a foot. Mary did so without complaining but Hannah was tired of taking orders.

  “You have no right to do this,” she said. “I want to talk to a lawyer.”

  “When we get back to town,” Riles muttered. “You can talk to the President of the United States for all I care. But for right now you're going to raise your shoe so that I can study the bottom of it.”

  Hannah started to say something but then thought better of it. She lifted her foot partway so that Riles practically had to lay his cheek on the snow to see the sole. He didn't seem to mind because a grin broke out across his face. He stood suddenly and spoke to Sharp, who was still collecting a blood sample.

  “Mary is wearing New Balance running shoes,” Riles said. “Hannah has on Nike walking shoes. Guess what kind of shoe imprints we have around puddle number three?”

  “New Balance and Nike's?” Sharp asked.

  “Yes. Isn't that amazing?” Riles turned back to the girls. “If either of you wants to change your story now's the time. But let me warn you, lie to us again and the court will take that into account when deciding what to do with you two.”

  Mary acted as if she wanted to speak, but Hannah cut her off sharply with a gesture and her voice. Sharp wandered over to see yet another confrontation between the girls and Riles.

  “Lots of people wear Nikes and New Balance,” Hannah said, as much for Mary's benefit as for the cops’. “It proves nothing. I know the law. You’d have to match our DNA with some of the blood you found here to prove that we had definitely been here. That will never happen.” She turned to her friend. “Mary, we have the right to remain silent. Don’t say anything else to these cops until you talk to my father's lawyer. They'll just use it against you.”

  Riles spoke to his friend. “Handcuff these young women. And while you're at it, put plastic bags over each of their hands. When we get back to town I want to check their skin for powder marks.” Riles stepped close to Hannah and breathed frost in her face. “Did you wash your hands tonight, Hannah? Did you wash them real well?”

  Hannah did not seem scared at all. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It was the night of the murder. But no one was supposed to die, Mary had understood. They were just supposed to scare Charlie. Scare him out of his pants so he’d feel bad about everything he had done to Mary. And then…then he was supposed to want her back. In Mary’s mind, even then, this one and one did not add up to two. Mary knew she was dealing in fractions of reality. Charlie was two dimensional, and he couldn’t possibly conform to her simple equation. Still, she was so mad at him she didn't really care if he did or didn’t.

  And that was as untrue as anything could possibly be.

  They were Mary, Hannah, and Dick.

  They were sitting in the Pizza Palace eating—what else—pizza. The time was between nine and ten. So later, what Mary told Riles and Sharp was true. But just the first part. Charlie had never been to the Pizza Palace that night. He was supposed to meet Mary at twelve midnight at the Crossroads, as far as Mary knew. She had called him and asked him to meet her. They were going to talk out their problems. He had agreed to come, and she had been surprised.

  “Charlie wanted to know why the hell we had to meet out there,” Mary said to Dick and Hannah. They were sitting in a booth in the corner. The place was crowded and loud; it was all the town had going on Friday night. Mary kept glancing around to see if anyone she knew was there, and, lo and behold, she realized she knew everyone. She was pissed at Hannah for talking her into such a stupid plan. And it was stupid, there was no debating that.

  “That doesn't matter,” Hannah said, blowing smoke.

  “One place is as good as another,” Dick said.

  Mary chewed on cold crust. “I don't know why we’re doing this.”

  “We don't have to do it,” Dick said.

  “Shut up,” Hannah said.

  Dick shrugged. “He's such an ape. How do I know he won't attack me?”

  “Because you'll be the one with the gun, stupid,” Hannah said.

  Dick gave a weird grin and looked at Mary. “And what do I get out of all this?”

  “The thrill of the scare,” Hannah said.

  “I want sex,” Dick said flatly.

  “Subtle, aren't we?” Mary said.

  Dick drank his beer. He was, of course, underage but that didn't seem to matter in Maple. “I tried subtlety and it didn’t work,” he said.

  “Sticking your tongue in my mouth was not subtle,” Mary said. She threw her pizza crust aside and leaned closer. “Do this tonight and get me into Stanford, and then you get some of what you want.”

  Dick was amused. “The hookers in Vegas aren’t as pricey as this.”

  “But you don't want a hooker,” Mary said.

  Dick snorted. “Isn’t that what I'm getting?”

  Mary started to slap him. Hannah caught her hand midflight.

  “Why are you so interested in her body, anyway?” Hannah asked her brother, putting Mary’s hand back in its proper place, or almost.

  Dick eyed her and it seemed a familiar inspection. “For the same reasons you are, sis.”

  Mary blinked. “Am I missing something?” She realized right then that she was. Her hand was on
Hannah’s knee. She quickly took it off.

  Hannah didn't care. “You take care of your end and I’m sure Mary will take care of hers.”

  “Where did you get the gun?” Mary asked Dick.

  Dick was looking out the window. “Does it matter? I have one, a revolver, and I have blanks as well.”

  “Are you absolutely sure they’re blanks?” Mary asked for the second time. She had no idea where Dick or anyone could possibly buy such things.

  Dick stared out the window and contemplated the external darkness. “They're blanks,” he finally answered. “They won’t even scratch your pretty boy.”

  “We assume you tested them on yourself,” Hannah said.

  Dick burped. “That’s right.”

  Mary shook her head. “This plan is no plan at all. It is totally unsophisticated. I'm supposed to meet Charlie in the woods and then you're going to jump out from behind a tree and start shooting. I mean, what the hell kind of plan is that?”

  “I'm not going to sit out there in the cold and wait for you guys,” Dick said. “I'm going to drive up shooting.”

  Mary was disgusted. “That’s even worse. That really won’t work.”

  “We're not planning a bank robbery,” Hannah said. “We want Charlie to piss his pants. It’s better to keep it simple and stupid. Believe me, when Dick starts firing Charlie will start running.”

  “Then what?” Mary asked.

  Hannah stubbed out her cigarette in the cold crust. “Then you can start laughing your head off, who cares? Then you tell Charlie he's been an asshole and you make love and make up.”

  “In that order?” Mary asked.

  “What are you bitching about?” Hannah asked. “I’m doing you a favor. You said you wanted to kill the guy.”

  “I think we should kill him,” Dick muttered.

  Mary put her hand to her head and groaned. “I feel like I'm getting in over my head.”

  Hannah lit another cigarette, holding it in her left hand. “You're a lightweight, this is nothing.”