JG02 - Borderlines

by Archer Mayor

  Once in the kitchen, Spinney locked the door behind us. Gorman strolled into the middle of the room, seemingly interested in the pots and pans hanging from hooks overhead, the numerous large, deep metal sinks, and the long wooden work tables, their surfaces scarred and eroded by years of slicing and hacking. Glancing around, I wondered if the place would survive even a cursory glance from the Health Department. The accumulated grime of thousands of greasy meals was parked in every nook and cranny, and the walls looked painted with a thin, dark sheen of old, rancid oil.

  Gorman turned theatrically on one heel to face us, a great show of forced indifference, belied by his watchful eyes. His hands remained in his pockets. “So, what’s this all about?” “You checked in at the White Horse Motel thirty-six hours before you said you did,” I said. He stared at us with mock surprise.

  “Checked into the motel?” Greta laughed. “You got to be kidding. Is that what this is about?” Spinney took over. “I have to inform you you don’t have to talk to us, and that if you have a lawyer, you might want to call him.” Gorman waved it away. “Such melodrama.” “It’s your choice. You told us you arrived on Thursday morning after receiving a call from Ellie Wingate about an hour earlier. That was a lie-we’ve got the motel records to prove it.” Gorman held up his hands. “A lie?

  That’s a little strong. I may have gotten my timing confused; there’s been a lot going on.” “You checked into the White Horse on Tuesday afternoon, two days earlier, after receiving a phone call before dawn the same day at the house of Heather SpineIIi, in Hanover.” Gorman smiled. “I told you I’d been in Hanover.” “Do you deny checking into the White Horse on Tuesday afternoon?” I liked Spinney’s style. Some cops get a routine over the years, a favorite approach that works in most situations. But Spinney switched aroundtough with some people, endearing with others, solicitous if necessary. With Gorman, he was like a chess player, relentlessly knocking down his opponent’s defenses, pushing him into a corner.

  “Sergeant, if you say you’ve got records proving I was at the motel on a certain day, they must be accurate. I travel a great deal.” Do you remember the phone call? You also got one about fifteen minutes after you checked in. Bruce Wingate told you about the lie detector test, the one he wouldn’t let Ellie take. That ring a bell?” %218 Ice move. We had no idea what they’d talked about, but we did know that a call went out to Gorman following every jam Wingate had found himself in. I noticed that Greta had become silent.

  “I remember some phone calls, but I don’t recall exactly what was said.”

  “Where were you Wednesday night? You told us earlier you were in Hanover.” There was a ghost of a pause, and then Gorman’s face relaxed into an indulgent smile. “I was in Hanover, Sergeant. It’s only an hour away.

  I had interrupted business in Hanover, so I was doing a little shuttling.” Greta stepped forward, grasping at this reasonable explanation.

  She addressed me instead of Spinney. “If you guys had any balls, you’d go after the Order, instead of coming after innocent people like us.

  You just don’t like the idea we may be right, that the answer to all this has been staring you in the face all along. Why do you think so many people are listening to us? Why do you think the news people are here?” “We’re not finished, Greta,” I told her.

  She rolled her eyes and walked over to lean against one of the work tables.

  Spinney continued. “We searched your room early this morning, Gorman, and we had the dirt on your shoes analyzed. It matches the dirt where Wingate was killed. In fact, there’s some blood mixed in with it.”

  Gorman looked shocked. “You searched my room?” “With a warrant.” Gorman was fighting for composure. Greta stood rooted in place, her face pale.

  I made a move toward her, but she stiffened and put her hands up, her eyes glued to Gorman. She reminded me of a cornered animal, boxed in by some fierce and merciless stalker.

  Gorman was trying to recover. “You found dirt on a pair of hiking shoes. Are you telling me that Bruce was lying in some sort of specialized mud, only found in that ditch and nowhere else? Come on, Detective. You’re fishing.” “Bruce Wingate wore contacts-you know that?” Gorman looked puzzled. “I may have. I don’t remember.” “When we found him, he was missing one of his lenses.” Gorman’s voice was slow and cautious. “So?” “We found the missing lens stuck to the bottom of your shoe, held there by the mud.” There was a sudden sound and Greta jumped on Gorman, landing a punch on him that knocked him clean off his feet.

  %219 “You son of a bitch. You used me.” She was about to kick him when Spinney pulled her off balance. She shook herself free, ran for the door, nlok~d it and vanished.

  “Greta.” The door slammed and I could hear her running down the hallway.

  I started to follow, but I could see it was useless-the crowd had absorbed her like the sea. I hesitated and then closed the door. I’d talk to her later.

  Gorman was sitting in the middle of the floor, rubbing his head. She’d caught him near the temple and had probably done more damage to her hand than to him.

  Spinney chose to ignore the entire incident and continued in the same quiet, chilly tone. “In a lot of murder cases, Mr. Gorman, we don’t actually find a guy with a gun in his hand, standing over the body. We have to put the case together, sometimes with circumstantial evidence, sometimes with physical evidence. With you, we’ve got both. Judges, prosecutors, and especially juries really like that; it’s something they can get their teeth into.” Gorman looked totally bewildered. Not only had he been assaulted by his erstwhile ally, with no visible concern from either Spinney or me, but the former was still addressing him as if he was a confessed axemurderer. -I didn’t kill Bruce,” he said, struggling to his feet again.

  “You were there.” “But I didn’t kill him.” “Are you denying you were there?” “You know I was there. You just said it, but I didn’t kill him.” “I’m glad to hear it.” “Don’t you believe me?” Gorman’s tone began to border on the hysterical.

  Spinney shook his head in wonder. “I saw who did it.” Spinney and I looked at each other. I felt as if the small stone had finally made it from the top of the dune to the palm of my hand. It was a sense of victory that quickly proved premature.

  “Who was it?” “I don’t know, it was dark. He stood back, letting Julie Wingate do the talking, until… You know, until he killed him.” So Julie was there, I thought, relieved at last to have that piece locked into place.

  “You couldn’t see him at all?” Spinney’s voice was slightly incredulous.

  “I just knew somebody was there. Bruce was holding a flashlight, %220

  and I could sometimes see the guy’s legs his pants legs were too short.

  He was standing maybe ten feet behind her, maybe a little more. I knew Bruce could see him; he referred to him, not by name, but just that he was there because she didn’t trust her own father. He was saying a lot of nonsense. Anyway, it happened all of a sudden. I don’t know who did what first whether the guy rushed in or Bruce did something he had a gun on him~ut all of a sudden they were at it, or the guy was at it. Bruce never had a chance. The guy kicked him in the nuts and then started stabbing him with this huge knife.” Gorman suddenly sat on a stool near one of the work tables. He was staring at the floor, his hands intertwined in his lap. “It was horrible. Julie screamed and the guy hit her without breaking stride.

  He was like a butcher, like the Devil himself. Bruce just dissolved into the ground. I’m not sure he even knew what hit him.” “And you never saw the guy’s face?” “All I could see were outlines-he was tall and thin. Bruce had dropped his flashlight. That’s partly what made it worse; it was all so vague, almost like it wasn’t happening at all, like a dream. And then it stopped. The guy picked up the flashlight I got real scared then but he didn’t look around. He stuck something under the body, as if to pin it down, like it might blow away or whatever, and then he did something really odd. He pointed the fl
ashlight at his feet and looked at them carefully, twisting them in the light, and then he rubbed one of them against Bruce’s neck, smearing it with blood. It was disgusting, like Bruce was a dead animal or something. Then he took the gun from Bruce’s pocket and left with Julie.” The mention of the lighter and the boot being smeared snapped another piece into place in my mind.

  It also eased that fierce and tiny pain I’d been carrying since the morning Bruce’s body was discovered: Whatever else he might have done, whatever changes his character might have undergone, Rennie had not ended his life as a killer. That meant a great deal to me.

  Spinney hadn’t paused in his questions. “What was Julie Wingate doing through all this?” “Crying and babbling-it didn’t make any sense to me.

  She just sounded hysterical, like she had no idea what was happening.

  After they left, I waited until I thought they were long gone, then I turned on my flashlight and went to him. He looked horrible. I was just standing there feeling sick, not knowing what to do, when another light went on and caught me. I heard Julie scream a little again, so I know it was them. I guess they’d been waiting on the road above. So I took off as fast as I could.” %221 “They didn’t follow?” “They might have tried, I don’t know. I wasn’t listening for them, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to wait around. I’d parked my car way up the road and I just took off.” There was a slight pause while Spinney and I absorbed all this. Major questions remained unanswered: What had motivated Wingate’s assailant to kill him? Since we now knew the killer wasn’t Rennie, then who was he?

  Sarris, perhaps, hell bent on eliminating both Wingate and Rennie with one blow?

  “Why were you there in the first place?” Spinney asked. Gorman was sitting slumped on his stool, absentmindedly rubbing the side of his head. “Bruce called me. He called me several timesafter the fire, after the lie detector test. He was falling apart.

  He’d gotten a note from Julie late Wednesday night asking him for a get-together later that night. We talked about it some; I said I’d come along to back him up, but we decided I should stay out of sight.” “Why come along at all? Weren’t you running the risk of scaring her oIl?”

  “Bruce was scared. I found out at that meeting that Julie had tried to kill him once already, just before the fire-” Gorman hesitated, obviously aware he’d opened a potential can of worms. He spoke rapidly to reseal the lid. “I know nothing about the fire, by the way. When Bruce called me that morning, all he said was that there had been one, that he’d gone back to the house after the fight with Fox, had argued with Julie, who’d reappeared, and that ‘things hadn’t worked out’those were his words. He made it sound like the fire was just an accident.”

  “Did he tell you if Julie got away before the fire?” I asked, remembering Wingate’s minimal interest in the victims the following morning.

  “Not in so many words. I asked him something like, ‘Is Julie okay?” and he said she was fine. I guess he lied about part of it to keep me involved. He knew I’d have nothing to do with violence.” Spinney ignored the self-righteous undertone. “You said you found out that night that Julie had tried to kill her father. What did she say exactly?” Gorman looked pained, ruing his own indiscretion. “I don’t remember exactly; it was something like, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t kill you.’”

  “To which he said?” “‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’” “Was there any mention of how she tried to kill him? A gun or a knife?” “No.” %222

  “Or whether anyone else died as a result?” “No, they both knew what they were talking about. They didn’t go into detail for my benefit.” I spoke up. “If they didn’t go into detail, how did you know she tried to kill her father before the fire-that’s what you said. The fire could have been the method she tried.” Gorman was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I’m trying to remember all this, okay? It was pretty wild. I think that’s just something I assumed. As far as I know, they never saw each other after the fire, except for the night he died, so it must have been before. And I think the fire was accidental, because they both blamed each other for that.” Spinney mulled that over and returned to his original line of questioning. “So you say Wingate was scared, and that’s why you agreed to be his backup?” His voice was totally neutral.

  “He was scared-he even brought a gun. But all he told me was that he thought they were crazy and that he wouldn’t know what to do if a bunch of them showed up at once.” “So you were supposed to be the cavalry? I find that hard to believe.” He hesitated.

  “You’re facing felony charges already, Gorman. Don’t start dicking around now.” “All right, all right. Bruce was hoping he could talk her into coming back home-most parents do. But he also thought that if she wouldn’t come, maybe the two of us could grab her. I’d told him that, if you can get a kid like that in a neutral place, sometimes you can turn them around, make them see the cult for what it is and give it up.”

  “So you were hoping to kidnap her?” He didn’t like the phrasing. “As a last resort. I didn’t know she was homicidal. He lied to me.” “What was the meeting like, before the attack?” Gorman looked bitter.

  “I was hiding up the hill a bit. It was dark, the sky had been covered by clouds, couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Bruce was at the bottom with a flashlight. Julie appeared out of nowhere-it was creepy. They talked. He accused her of causing the fire, and said if she came with him, no one would ever know about it.” “Did she admit setting it?” “Not directly, but she talked about it. She said he was as much to blame as she was, that if he’d just left her alone, none of it would have happened. She made it sound like an accident, but one they’d both caused. It didn’t make much sense to me.” %223 “Go on.” “It was pretty obvious she hadn’t called the meeting to talk about going home.

  She wanted him to leave her alone or she’d ‘turn him in’-those were her words; I don’t know what she meant. Anyway, he said she couldn’t do that without implicating herself. She answered she didn’t care because he’d ruined her life anyhow and now it was her turn, that her merely speaking out would screw up his job and his cherished reputation forever. She was incredibly angry. I mean, I’d never seen such hatred.

  She loathed the guy. I was thinking I’d tell him later that he was well rid of her and that he should dump the whole thing.” Spinney scratched his head in puzzlement. “Why didn’t you report any of this? You weren’t guilty of anything. In fact, you made yourself an accessory by keeping quiet you must have known that.” Gorman looked at us with wide eyes. “You weren’t there. This guy just took him apart. I mean, this wasn’t some sort of fight where a gun goes off or something. This guy butchered him-like a madman. I was scared to death. They had that light right on me. I looked up into it-they saw my face.” “So why not get in your car and drive off into the sunset?” Spinney asked.

  “I thought about it. But I had to talk to Ellie first, to tell her what had happened.” “Did you?” “Not right away. I went to the Inn, but that old bat was around. I could see her through the windows.” “Greta?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what she was doing, but she was up and about in the middle of the night. I was stuck then, because I didn’t want to go back to the motel, in case they’d found out where I was staying, and I couldn’t leave Ellie high and dry. So I drove around all night. I figured the motel would be safe after dawn, so then I waited in my room for Ellie to call me. I knew she would as soon as she heard about Bruce.” “Why didn’t you just call her on your car phone?” “It doesn’t work up here, no cellular relay stations. Besides, I knew they didn’t have a phone in their room. If I’d called, Greta would have answered and might have wondered later about the coincidence of Bruce dying and my telephoning the same night. I wasn’t even supposed to be near here, much less at the scene of a crime.” “So why didn’t you leave then?”

  Spinney persisted. “I was going to, but then I saw what was happening.

  Julie and whoever it was w
ere trying to frame Rennie Wilson. That’s when I realized I was probably okay.

  They’d seen who I was, but they weren’t %224 going to do anything about it because it would have blown their frameup.” “Come on, they could have rigged it some way. You could have had a fatal accident,” I said.

  “Running away wasn’t going to guarantee my safety. I’m a public guy, easy to find. I figured maybe the best defense was a good offense, especially after I met Greta. If I made a big enough stink, with lots of publicity, it would not only give me some protection, but the extra heat would keep you guys on your toes, and the sooner you caught Julie and her father’s killer, the sooner I could stop looking over my shoulder.” Spinney’s voice was like acid. “Well, I don’t know about you looking over your shoulder, but I’ll guarantee you some protection.”

  He slapped a pair of handcuffs onto Gorman’s wrists and steered him out into the hallway, reading him his full rights. Spinney and I were standing in the parking lot of the correctional facility on Route 5, just a little south of the State Police barracks, having hand-delivered Gorman there. The jail was high on a hill looking east, and we were both idly facing that direction without actually registering the view, which the falling snow had reduced to a blur in any case. “So he was tall and thin.” Spinney’s voice was reflective. “Yeah. He must have put Rennie’s clothes on over his own-to keep himself warm and to expose the clothes to any blood. And he must have kept the pants up with suspenders. That’s why that one spot of blood showed up where a belt would have been.” I felt particularly vindicated with that last detail.

  “So who do we know who’s tall and thin?” I looked at him. “Sarris.”

  Sarris, as usual, didn’t seem surprised to see us. His only greeting was a single world-weary, “Ah.” “We’d like to speak with you, if we might,” Spinney said. Sarris shrugged and led the way through the big hall with its dozens of sparkling windows. At the far wall, he opened a small door I’d never noticed and ushered us in.