Dono had wanted Mike to know the truth. Wanted what was left of his family provided for and brought together.
But the truth had turned poisonous. Mike’s brother had killed his father. Who the hell would be richer for knowing that? Not Mike, and not Davey. Sure as hell not Juliet or their kid.
I looked at Evelyn. “You’re right. Better to let it alone.”
“He can’t ever know,” she said.
“Forever’s a long time. For now you and I can carry the weight.” I looked up Third Avenue. If I walked fast, I could be at Luce’s apartment in time to have a quick dinner with her before she started her night at the Morgen.
“Tell Davey to stay where he is,” I said.
I walked away. Evelyn stayed where she was, standing rigid in the cold wind.
*
THREE DAYS LATER THE city of Seattle, King County, and Washington State had all decided they’d seen enough of me. The county prosecutor signed off on sending me back to the army for local duty. The next morning I locked up Dono’s house—my house—with the new police lock I’d installed and handed Addy Proctor the keys. She gave me a hug.
“I’ll fight off the squatters,” she said. “Just come back safe.”
Luce was waiting at the curb in her old Audi, the engine idling. She had the top down, even though the day was too new to even hint at being warm.
“Nothing else?” she said after I’d squeezed myself into the passenger seat.
“Nope.” I had my passport and papers and the clothes on my back. “Pretty much what I arrived with.”
Luce grinned. “I’d say you’ve got a bit more than that.”
I looked at her, then leaned across and kissed her. “Let’s go.”
She drove us up and over the hill to Madison and the I-5 Southbound exit.
“November twelfth,” she said after a couple of miles. “Six months.”
“Yeah,” I said. The day my enlistment was due to end. Officially.
“Will you be in Afghanistan then? Or here?”
“I don’t know. I’ll be attached to the Second here at Lewis for a while, until Davey’s case is settled. Then the cops will tell the army I’m all theirs.”
“And you’re sure the army won’t punish you? For being AWOL?”
“Oh, they’ll punish me. At least until they’re free to rotate me somewhere more useful.” By tonight I’d probably be baby-sitting a new class of boots on behalf of their drill sergeant, waking them every ninety minutes to do push-ups and yell cadence. But it beat a stint in Leavenworth.
Luce was quiet for a while. About the time we hit the S-curves through Renton, she said, “You won’t re-up?”
She was picking up the jargon. I looked at her. She kept her hands at ten and two and her eyes fixed straight ahead. Her blond hair whipped behind her like a pennant.
“No,” I said. “Once they stamp my papers, I’m done.” I hoped they’d send me on one more rotation. I wanted to see my team one last time.
“Well,” Luce said, and I could tell without looking at her that she was smiling. “At least you’ve earned a pension. Of sorts.”
Talos had been pretty desperate to recover their diamonds. The reward had edged up steadily since the robbery in February, until it reached two hundred thousand. With the two rubber cylinders that I’d turned in to the cops and the others fished off the ocean floor by the state-police divers, Talos already had the lion’s share back in their hands.
Ephraim was sure he could make their insurance company cough up. He had incentive, since the reward would be my only way of paying his legal fees, as well as Dono’s astronomical hospital bill.
There was some money yet to be found. The cash from Cristiana Liotti’s apartment. The police theorized that Boone had hidden it away somewhere. I knew that most of it was still in its plastic wrap, stashed in a locker near a temporarily empty slip at Shilshole marina. When I’d tossed the package to Hollis, I’d told him I thought the Francesca II should be bigger than her predecessor.
I couldn’t keep Dono’s diamonds for myself. I wasn’t that boy anymore, the one who could turn a blind eye to the price paid for free money.
But I was okay with the gray areas.
I closed my eyes and leaned back, just to feel the wind rushing over me.
Even after all the debts, there should be a sizable nut remaining from the reward. Maybe enough to get a boat of my own. Take Luce out, point it south, and see where it takes us.
Pirate days.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank the following people for aiding and abetting Past Crimes:
My editor at William Morrow is Lyssa Keusch and at Faber and Faber it is Angus Cargill. Their perceptive insights have added spirit and depth to the book, and I am very grateful for their hard work and enthusiasm at every stage. The teams at each house have been as welcoming and focused as any new author could hope. Caspian Dennis of the Abner Stein Agency in London boldly represented the work on new shores. I also owe thanks to the sharp eyes of copy editors Maureen Sugden and Sarah Daniels, who removed the weeds from the garden.
This is a work of fiction. I have taken the occasional liberty with organizational structures, jurisdictions, geography, and anything else useful to help the story along. That said, I have aimed for accuracy wherever possible, and I am deeply indebted to the professionals who have lent their hard-won knowledge to the work. From the veterans of the United States Army, those are Chris Cooperider, 18E, Christian Hockman, Bco 1/75 Ranger Regiment, and Matt Holmes, 82nd Airborne, 1st Brigade combat team. From law enforcement, they include Officer John Skommesa from Seattle’s East Precinct, and Sergeant Ed Striedinger of the Major Crime Task Force. In each case, the cool stuff is theirs, and any mistakes are mine.
To my parents, Peter and Karen, thank you for raising me to believe that everything could be within reach, if eyes, mind, and heart all remain open. And to my wife and daughter: endlessly supportive, fiercely protective. I love you.
For mystery author and teacher extraordinaire Jerrilyn Farmer, and the rest of the Saturday Morning Gang, I value your opinions and friendship immensely, and I am honored to work with you.
I would also like to acknowledge International Thriller Writers. It was at their annual ThrillerFest conference where I first met my agent, as well a host of brilliant writers ranging from newcomers to the downright famous. All of them were friendly and generous with their advice at a time when it was most valuable.
My agent is Lisa Erbach Vance, at the Aaron Priest Literary Agency. She was the first in the publishing world to believe in this book, and by extension me, and support us both with her time, tremendous energy, and incomparable savvy. For an untested writer, that kind of validation goes beyond words. Thank you, Lisa.
And finally, my sincere thanks to you, the reader. At the end of the day, it is for you that this book exists.
About the Author
Glen Erik Hamilton is a Seattle native and is currently working on a second novel featuring Van Shaw and Seattle’s criminal underworld.
Copyright
First published in the UK in 2015
by Faber & Faber Limited
Bloomsbury House,
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
This ebook edition first published in 2015
First published in the United States in 2015
by William Morrow
an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers
195 Broadway, New York NY 10007
All rights reserved
© Glen Erik Hamilton, 2015
Design by Faber
Cover photographs © Nagel Photography & TomTom, Shutterstock
The right of Glen Erik Hamilton to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or
used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly
ISBN 978–0–571–31460–7
Past Crimes Page 31
