Stuart Woods Holly Barker Collection

by Stuart Woods

  “My point is,” Josh said, “anybody could have gone into Bruno’s house and stomped around all he liked, and Bruno would never have woken up. It would have been easy to kill him.”

  “You still thinking suicide, Hurd?” Holly asked.

  “It’s still possible, but I’m leaning the other way.”

  “Did you do any work on Bruno’s signature on the note?”

  “No experts, but there was an insurance card in the desk drawer with his signature on it, and they looked like they matched.”

  “If you found that card, Hurd, maybe the killer did, too, and he used it to forge the signature.”

  “That works for me,” Hurd replied, “but all we’ve got is the possibility of homicide. We don’t have a suspect.”

  “Is there any other anomaly in the reports?”

  “Well, there was a partial print on the vaccination gun that wasn’t Bruno’s. Forensics ran the print, but there wasn’t enough for a match in the database.”

  “Then how do you know it wasn’t Bruno’s?”

  “Because he had printed Bruno’s corpse and couldn’t match it to the right pinkie, which is the finger he said it was.”

  “So if we had another suspect, he could do a direct comparison and maybe get a match?” Holly asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Hurd,” Holly said, “pull Jimmy Weathers’s prints off the computer and have the guy do a direct comparison.”

  “Wait a minute, Holly. Jimmy and I together examined the contents of the box that held the panties and the vaccination gun, and he was wearing latex gloves. And he never touched it. Lauren observed; she can confirm that.”

  “Maybe Jimmy touched the gun earlier,” Holly said. “Without gloves.”

  “What are you saying, Holly?”

  “Maybe he touched the v-gun when he was hiding it and the panties in the box in Bruno’s closet.”

  Hurd was silent for a moment. “Good God,” he said finally.

  49

  Holly hung up the phone, and Josh went back to running the Cuisinart. When he was done, he poured the sauce into a pan and began thickening it, stirring very slowly.

  Holly just stood there and thought. “Josh,” she said, “I think we’re back to square one.”

  “And exactly where is square one?” he asked, taking the English muffins from the toaster oven, draping them with Canadian bacon and spooning a softly poached egg onto each.

  “Square one is where we were with Bruno: we thought he did it, but we had no corroborating evidence.”

  “So,” Josh said, pouring Hollandaise sauce over the muffins, “now we just substitute Jimmy’s name for Bruno’s?”

  “That’s about it.”

  “But you still haven’t proved that Bruno did not do the murders. Even if somebody came into the house and shot him while he was zonked out on Scotch and Ambien, then wrote a suicide note for him, Bruno could still be the killer.”

  “When you put it that way, yes,” Holly said.

  “Can you think of another way to put it?”

  “No,” Holly said, “I can’t.”

  Josh set the two plates on the table with a pitcher of orange juice, then opened half a bottle of champagne and held the chair for her.

  “Mmmm, mimosas,” she said, as he poured champagne into her half-glass of juice.

  “Or Buck’s fizzes,” Josh said, sitting down, “if you live in England.”

  “That’s a nice name,” Holly said, sipping her Buck’s fizz.

  “There’s another point you have to consider,” Josh said, cutting into his eggs Benedict.

  “What’s that?”

  “Even if Bruno is innocent and Jimmy Weathers murdered him and wrote his suicide note and planted the evidence, it seems unlikely that Jimmy is going to get caught.”

  “Maybe the partial print on the v-gun will turn out to be Jimmy’s?”

  “You think the DA would be willing to hang his whole case on that and a bunch of circumstantial evidence? By the way, what is circumstantial evidence, anyway?”

  “Circumstances that strongly suggest guilt,” Holly said, “or words to that effect.”

  “So, if it seems like Jimmy did it, he’s guilty?”

  “It’s not as simple as that,” Holly said. “First, he would have to have no alibi for any of the killings.”

  “Which all took place late at night?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, his alibi is that he was home with Mom, asleep.”

  “I guess that would be it.”

  “If Mom corroborates that, then what circumstances would apply?”

  “Jimmy has a boat, so he could have dumped one of the corpses in the sea; Jimmy has an unmarked police car at his disposal and a policeman’s uniform and badge, so he’d have no trouble posing as a cop; Jimmy is single and horny, and that’s a kind of motive; Jimmy had opportunity to steal the v-gun from the hospital, but so far we have no way to put him in the room with it; Jimmy had the opportunity to plant the panties and v-gun in Bruno’s bedroom, even if he didn’t kill him.”

  “So Jimmy has motive, means and opportunity,” Josh said. “Isn’t that all you need?”

  “In theory, but in practice we need corroborating evidence, and we don’t have any: no witnesses, no trace evidence at the crime scenes.”

  “I suppose it would help if you could find a couple of women in Jimmy’s past whom he raped, or nearly raped, on a date?”

  “Sure, but I’m beginning to wonder if Jimmy has ever had a date. And even if he has, what are we going to do, run an ad in the local paper? ‘Have you ever been raped or nearly raped by this man?’ ”

  “Here’s a more pleasant thought,” Josh said. “None of this is your responsibility; you’re not a cop anymore. You’re returning to your day job shortly.”

  “Yeah, that’s just great,” Holly said disconsolately. “It’s Hurd’s and Lauren’s baby.”

  Teddy and Lauren were having a good breakfast, too.

  “Looks like you’ve wrapped up your big case,” Teddy said, holding up the paper.

  “How ’bout that!” Lauren said, giving him a big bacon-flavored kiss.

  “How ’bout you and I pack up and head for Santa Fe?” Teddy said. “And if you don’t like it there, we’ll try La Jolla; and if you don’t like it there, we’ll find someplace you do like.”

  “That’s a breathtaking idea,” Lauren said.

  “Have you been thinking about it?”

  “Of course, I have.”

  “And what is your decision?”

  Lauren got up and squeezed herself into his lap, and she put her arms around his neck. “My decision is YES!!!”

  Then her cell phone rang.

  Lauren picked it up, and Teddy could hear only her side of the conversation.

  “Hello? Hi, Hurd. Okay, I’m listening.” Long pause. “Oh, shit. Yes, I see, square one. You want me to come in today? All right, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, and we’ll start over.” She hung up.

  “I didn’t like the sound of that,” Teddy said. “What does it all mean?”

  Lauren enlightened him at some length.

  “So Hurd thinks Jimmy Weathers killed Bruno and all the women?”

  “He can’t prove Jimmy did it,” Lauren said, “and he can’t prove he didn’t, either.”

  “So you’re back at square one?”

  “That’s about the size of it. And, Jack, I can’t walk out on Hurd with the whole thing just hanging like this.”

  “I can see that,” Teddy said. “Well, I’ll just have to try to be patient.”

  “I would be very grateful if you could,” Lauren said.

  Teddy thought about it. “This is really interesting,” he said. “You’ve had only two suspects, both cops—one is dead and the other is suspected of killing him, plus they’re both suspects in the killing of all those women. You’ve got enough evidence to call Bruno the killer and wrap the whole thing up, but you can’t, because now you think Jimmy
is the killer. I don’t think I’ve ever read a thriller with such a convoluted plot.”

  “Any suggestions?”

  “Yes,” Teddy said. “It’s wrapped up in the papers, so leave it that way and wait for another murder.”

  “You think Jimmy would kill again, now that he’s off scot-free?”

  “If he’s already killed half a dozen times, it’s because he really, really likes doing it. I predict he’ll kill again, but be even more careful.”

  50

  Hurd Wallace was sitting at his desk on Monday morning when Lauren knocked at his door. “Come in,” he said. Lauren sat down but didn’t speak.

  “Good morning,” Hurd said, to break the silence.

  “This is bad,” Lauren said. “The case, I mean.”

  “It’s difficult, yes.”

  “It’s impossible,” Lauren said, “unless . . .”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless he kills again. Or tries to.”

  “I don’t know that I’m comfortable with the idea of sitting around, waiting for Jimmy to murder another woman,” Hurd said.

  “I’m not comfortable with it either,” Lauren said. “Not for a minute.”

  “We’re in a difficult position,” Hurd said. “We’ve already announced to the press that Bruno committed suicide as well as all the murders, and everybody is just delighted with that.”

  “You mean the governor is delighted.”

  “I mean everybody: the press, the city council, the public and, yes, the governor.”

  “So we can’t issue another press release saying that maybe it didn’t happen that way, that maybe the Orchid Beach chief of police did it all.”

  Hurd managed a chuckle. “I don’t think so.”

  “And we don’t want to wait for Jimmy to kill again.”

  “No, we don’t, but, short of checking his alibis for the killings and waiting for word on the partial print to come back and, in general, continuing to work the case, there’s not much else we can do.”

  “I think we should do all of that, but I think we should work on the basis that we’re stuck with Jimmy.”

  “Without another alternative, yes,” Hurd said.

  “There’s another alternative,” Lauren said.

  Hurd shifted in his seat. “I’m all ears.”

  “Maybe if I interest Jimmy in me . . .” Lauren said.

  Hurd sat as if frozen and said nothing, just stared at her.

  “Jimmy is attracted to me,” Lauren said. “He even asked me out a few days ago.”

  “And how did you handle that?”

  “I told him I’m seeing somebody, which is true, and he backed off.”

  “Just tell me how you see this playing out, Lauren.”

  “Okay. I let Jimmy know that I’m newly available.”

  “That you’ve stopped seeing your friend?”

  “No, I don’t think that’s the way. I think Jimmy should think that I’ll see him even though I’m seeing somebody else.”

  “Then you’re forbidden fruit?”

  “Exactly. I think he might find that more exciting.”

  “I can’t disagree with that,” Hurd said, “but . . .”

  “Yes, I know. There are a lot of buts.”

  “But how do we control this? We could have a squad of people following you and Jimmy around, waiting for him to try . . .”

  “Yes, and that would be awkward. And we have to remember that Jimmy is not stupid; I’d have to be a pretty good actress to pull this off.”

  “And are you a pretty good actress?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not enough, Lauren. Jimmy is a big guy, over six feet, muscular. He looks like he spends a lot of time at the gym.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “Why do you think you can handle him? Physically, I mean.”

  “I’m not at all sure I could; I have to keep it from coming to that.”

  “Let me tell you bluntly why I can’t authorize this,” Hurd said, “either officially or unofficially.”

  “Tell me,” Lauren replied.

  “In order to pull this off, you’re going to have to make Jimmy believe that he’s going to . . .”

  “Yes.”

  “He has to believe that you want him to fuck you.” Hurd blushed. “I said I’d be blunt.”

  “It’s all right, Hurd; be blunt.”

  “If he thinks that’s going to happen and you try and stop him, you could make him very angry.”

  “That’s kind of the idea.”

  “You’ve seen his victims. He wasn’t gentle with them before he killed them. There’s no reason to believe he would be gentle with you.”

  “I suppose it would be up to me to control him,” Lauren said.

  “And you think that, if you led him along, you could stop him from fucking you without . . . consequences?”

  “The consequences would have to be for him.”

  “Lauren, let me be even blunter. Are you willing to kill him?”

  “As you say, he’s a big guy. I would probably have to kill him to stop him.”

  Hurd blushed even more. “Are you willing to fuck him, just to break this case?”

  “If I have to. I mean, if I kill him, there’d be no witnesses, and we’d need evidence that he raped me.”

  “You mean semen.”

  “Yes. Inside me.”

  “What would your boyfriend say about this?”

  “I have no intention of mentioning it to him.”

  “And suppose you did fuck Jimmy. Is there any way to resolve the case without killing him?”

  “I think that, if he were excited enough, he might well talk about what he’d done. Especially if he thought I knew and that I was excited about knowing.”

  “Lauren,” Hurd said, “one more question, and I want a straight answer. After what you went through with Bruno, why would you want do this?”

  Lauren regarded him evenly. “I think I want to do it because of what I went through with Bruno.”

  Hurd swiveled his chair around and gazed at the wall for half a minute before turning back to her. “Here’s my decision, Lauren,” Hurd said. “I will not allow you to try this. In fact, I order you not to. Is that perfectly clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Lauren replied.

  “I want to explain why I’m giving you this order.”

  “I understand. You don’t have to explain.”

  “Yes, I do, and I have three very valid reasons. One: such an attempt would place you in mortal peril. Two: even if you survived, the chances of your getting a confession from him would be remote. Three: even if you survived and got a confession, it’s likely that either a judge would refuse to allow your evidence on grounds of entrapment, or the defense would characterize it as entrapment and say that Jimmy confessed only because he wanted so badly to fuck you.”

  “I see your point,” Lauren said.

  “Will you follow my order?”

  Lauren hesitated.

  “Lauren, unless you tell me that you will follow my order—and mean it—I will fire you out of hand right this minute, and then you will have no legal standing to attempt what you propose.”

  Lauren regarded her shoes. “All right, Hurd, I accept your order. Really, I’ll table this plan.”

  “It’s not a plan,” Hurd said. “It’s a dangerous fantasy. This is not how we solve homicides.”

  “Then,” Lauren said, “we’re probably going to have to accept another murder. Maybe more than one.”

  “We can’t control that,” Hurd said.

  “Maybe we can,” Lauren replied.

  “You have an alternate plan, then?”

  “I do.”

  51

  Holly walked into the Ocean Grill in Vero Beach, stood just inside the door and looked for Lauren Cade.

  “I’m right behind you,” Lauren said.

  “Hi,” Holly said. “Let’s get a table.”

  When they were settled in and iced tea had
been served, Holly looked closely at Lauren. “What is going on?” she asked. “You look funny. Is something wrong?”

  “No. Well, not yet. I want to run something by you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Lauren told her about the plan she had considered.

  “Did you propose this to Hurd?” Holly asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

  “Hurd turned down the idea. In fact, he ordered me not to do it.”

  “Of course.”

  “In fact, he said he would fire me on the spot, unless I agreed not to.”

  “Good for Hurd. What you proposed is not good judgment.”

  “Holly, what would you do in the circumstances?”

  Holly thought about that.

  “That’s what I thought,” Lauren said.

  “I was thinking, not deciding to do something stupid.”

  “So you’re against it?”

  “In every possible way,” Holly said.

  “I had another thought, which I proposed to Hurd.”

  “Let’s hear that one.”

  “We bug Jimmy’s cruiser with a microphone and GPS.”

  “This is sounding better already.”

  “We follow him at a distance of, say, a quarter of a mile, just out of sight.”

  “Good,” Holly said. “And you rush in as soon as he makes a wrong move?”

  “Right.”

  “I like it, but I’ll tell you how I would like it even better.”

  “Please do,” Lauren said.

  “You install multiple audio and video cameras, along with the GPS. It’s too easy for something to go wrong with the equipment; you’ve got to have backup. And you’re going to need the video for the trial.”

  “You’re right.”

  “The problem is, you may have to tail Jimmy for days or even weeks before he makes his move. I mean, right now he’s home free, and he knows that if he commits another murder the whole Bruno-as-killer thing will be blown.”

  “I think he would change his MO, make it seem that there’s a different murderer out there,” Lauren said.

  “You may be right,” Holly agreed, “but you’re still going to have to wait for the pressure to build inside Jimmy, and that could take a while.”

  “It won’t take a while,” Lauren said.