inches from me and I never suspected anything.”
“And you’re convinced that the waitress was in on it?”
“The barman told the FBI that she vanished about five minutes before Leopold left, and never came back. Could be a coincidence, but I don’t think so.”
“Okay, but it’s still not a fact. Not yet.” She riffled through some papers. “But I have something here that is a fact.”
He sat up. “What?”
“Six students and three adults were killed at the school. Five of the students were male.”
“And Debbie Watson was the lone female.”
“But the five males were all on the football team. Or three were, technically. One was a team manager, and one had gotten kicked off recently for some rule violation.”
Decker sat up even straighter. “Beth Watson said that Jimmy Schikel was on the team. But I didn’t make a connection with the others. Because of Debbie and the adults.”
“And, Joe Kramer, while the gym teacher, was also the football coach.”
“And the assistant principal?”
“Barry Dresden has no connection to the team that I could find. He has no kids at the school, so none of them could be on the team. And then there’s Andy Jackson.”
“But he was killed because he confronted the shooter. It might be that the others were targeted because of their connection to the football team.”
“But Dresden had no such ties.”
“But all of the male student victims plus the coach? That can’t be a coincidence, Mary. The odds are way too long. There were lots of targets in each of those classrooms. He had to know who he was shooting. Wait a minute, were the victims all large? Did they look like football players?”
“Two did, the others were normal-sized. So I doubt he could have picked them solely on their physical appearance. They wear their game jerseys on Fridays before the football game, but the shooting didn’t happen on a Friday. But he could have easily found out which ones were on the team. And he could have found their class schedules too. Or Debbie could have told him. And if so, maybe she knew what he was planning to do.” She paused. “But anyway, I wanted you to know what I had found out.”
He looked at her appreciatively. “That’s good work, Mary. No one else saw that, including me.”
She smiled wearily. “Well, I’m not used to getting somewhere before you, so it does feel good. But what does it mean, Amos?”
“I played on the football team here. They took all of my trophies. It could be just another way of getting back at me. Another facet of their vendetta.” He lapsed into silence.
“What?”
“Dresden, the assistant principal, was targeted. The shooter went to the office to kill him. Debbie and Jackson can be explained away. But not Dresden. If he has no ties to the football team, then why was he killed?”
“You mean the reason might not be your playing football here? Despite their taking the trophies?”
“Yes. But if not that, what?”
“I have no idea,” admitted Lancaster.
“Well, it won’t do us any good beating our heads against the wall on it until we find out more. But we do have someplace to go.”
“Go? Go where?”
“The bar.”
“You thirsty?”
“Yeah, but not for a beer.”
Chapter
46
A SNOWFLAKE DRIFTED down as Decker stood across the street from the bar, Lancaster at his side. The flake hit the sidewalk and then melted almost immediately.
Lancaster pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose.
“If you don’t want to go in, can we wait in the car at least?” she asked. “It’s freezing and I feel the flu coming on.”
Decker had taken in the city block grid by grid, and then his gaze started over and went through it again. He began to walk and Lancaster hurried after him. They covered both sides of the street for a block in either direction.
“No cameras,” he noted.
“Burlington has surveillance cameras, just not everywhere. I hear that London and New York have them on every street. But we don’t have their tax base, do we?”
“There are private surveillance cameras,” said Decker. “Banks, pawn shops, liquor stores. But none that I can see. Can you check on that? See if there are any on this block?”
“I’ll put in a call.” She did so while Decker continued to look around. A few more flakes were falling, and overhead the clouds had thickened with moisture. If the temperature continued to fall they might get some real accumulation.
Lancaster put her phone away. “They’ll get back to me. Now what?”
Decker headed across the street to the bar and she followed.
It was full, with most tables occupied by couples, although there seemed to be a bachelor party going on in the back of the room. Lancaster eyed with disdain the stripper, who was in the process of shedding her skintight Catwoman costume.
“Amazes me what gets young men excited.”
“It’s the same thing that’s always gotten them excited,” said Decker absently. “Pretty women in the process of taking off their clothes.” He worked his way to the bar and eyed the barman, the same guy he had talked to before. The man came over.
“What’s your poison?” he asked.
“I’ll take a Miller on draft.” Decker looked at Lancaster.
“I’m officially on duty,” she said in a low voice.
“And a Virgin Mary for my friend,” said Decker.
When the man went off to fill this order, Decker turned around on his stool, leaned against the bar, and took in the room. Lancaster did the same.
“So Leopold led you to this bar where his partner was allegedly masquerading as a waitress. You guys talked, and then, with the alleged aid of his alleged partner, he vanished.”
“Allegedly, yes,” said Decker irritably.
“How did he know you were going to follow him here?”
“How could I not? All charges dropped? He knew that I knew the police procedure. Processed out of his cell at central lockup and sent packing. He knew I’d be waiting outside. And if for some reason I wasn’t, so what? No skin off his teeth. They’d find another way to lure me in.”
“So you followed him here. What was his endgame?”
“Maybe he just wanted to see me again, up close. Size me up.”
“But if we’re reading this right, the person that really wanted to see you was the waitress. Maybe the one who was at the institute with you. The one you insulted somehow.”
“I’m sure that was part of it too.”
“It’s a wonder he didn’t kill you right then. Or at least try to.”
“I haven’t suffered enough, Mary.”
“Haven’t suffered enough! All these people dead, including your family? The story that Jamison wrote trashing you? Him taunting you the whole time?”
“Still not enough, Mary. Not for them.”
“What do they want, Amos? I mean, what else could they possibly want from you?”
“More, Mary. I just don’t know what that is yet.”
But Decker did know what their real endgame was.
They want me.
The barman brought their drinks and said, “Hey, man, you cost me some business the other day. Cops all over the place. Scared away half my customers.”
“You get paid the same, right?” said Lancaster bluntly.
“Tips, honey,” said the barman. “I live on my tips.” He put an electronic cigarette to his lips and took a puff. “You think the owners of this place pay an actual living wage? If you do, get your head examined.”
Decker said, “I’m sure your waitresses rely on their tips too.”
“They do.”
“But maybe not the one who skipped out on you. Maybe she has another source of income.”
“Maybe it does.”
“You sure it was a guy?” asked Lancaster, watching him closely.
The
She flashed her badge. He took another electronic puff and said, “I used to work as a grip off-Broadway. Lot of its around that world. I can tell guys from girls, although I have to admit this one was really good.”
“So if it was a guy, why did you let him work?” asked Lancaster.
“I don’t give a shit if a guy wants to dress up like a chick so long as he can serve the drinks without spilling. All I need is bodies. I don’t count penises.”
Decker said, “According to you, the waitress left before the guy I was talking to did.”
“Well, I couldn’t find her after you left. Had to serve drinks at the tables myself until I got a replacement in. So, yeah, it apparently skipped out.”
“And you called the temp agency?” asked Decker.
“I did. And you were right about that. No record of her. Score one for you.”
Decker’s gaze drifted down to the man’s waist. A key fob poked from the top of his front jeans pocket.
“What kind of car do you drive?”
The barman looked down in surprise and then back up at Decker. “Why? You need a ride somewhere?”
“No. Just curious.”
“Nissan Leaf.”
“That’s an all-electric.”
“I know it is. Great gas mileage since it doesn’t run on gas. I just plug it in.”
“Very quiet, I expect,” said Decker.
“Too quiet sometimes. I’ve left it running more times than I can remember. Just walked off with the key in my pocket and the damn thing still on.”
“Is that right? Where do you keep it parked?”
“Alley outside.”
“Did you notice on the day I was in here that when you went out to the car it was in a slightly different location?”
The man thought for a moment and then said, “No, not that I remember. Why?”
“Because I looked in that alley when I was here that day and there was no car there.”
“The hell you say,” snapped the barman, his eyes wide in surprise. “But it was there when I left work.”
“You always keep the car key on you?”
“Not always. Sometimes I hang it on a hook over there.” He pointed to a wall behind the bar. “Have to move it sometimes when we’re expecting a delivery. Beer truck can barely squeeze in that space. And it’s a dead end so they have to back out. Sometimes I let one of the waitresses move it if I’m tied up.”
“Well, I think the waitress in question drove it without your permission.”
Decker dropped some dollars on the bar. “Tip included.” He and Lancaster walked out.
Chapter
47
THE SNOW HAD begun to fall more heavily as Decker stared at the gray Nissan Leaf.
“Looks like he’s charging it now,” said Lancaster. She was staring at a power cable running from a port on the car to an electrical box next to the side door of the bar.
Decker didn’t look at the cable; he was staring at the walls of the alley.
“Over there,” he said.
Positioned up high and trained so that it would take in most of the alley was a video surveillance camera. Decker walked over to where the camera was mounted and then down at the door of the business.
“Pharmacy,” he said. “This must be their delivery entrance.”
“Lot of thefts from pharmacies around here,” said Lancaster, who had come to stand next to him. “Not surprised they have a camera. Logical place to hit it from the rear. That’s why the door’s barred and locked.”
“We need to get the footage from this camera, and we need it now.”
They hurried around to the front. A clerk was behind the cash register and there was an off-duty police officer near the entrance.
Lancaster flashed her badge at him. “I know you,” she said. “Donovan, Fourth Precinct? Right?”
“Yes ma’am. What do you need, Detective Lancaster?”
She explained, and they walked together over to the cash register, where Donovan conveyed this to the cashier. He said, “I can pull it.”
A few minutes later Lancaster and Decker were walking out of the drugstore with the DVD. They drove straight back to Mansfield, where Lancaster popped the disc into her computer and brought up the images.
There was a time stamp so Decker gave her the date to forward to. She worked the computer’s controls until Decker said, “Stop it right there.”
She did so and the frame on the screen froze.
He said, “Now roll it forward in slow-mo.”
Lancaster hit the requisite buttons to accomplish this, and they watched as the waitress exited the bar, opened the door of the Leaf, and climbed in after disconnecting the charging cable. A few moments later she drove off.
Ten minutes later she drove back up again, got out, reconnected the cable, and reentered the bar.
“But the guy said she didn’t come back,” noted Lancaster.
“Just wait a minute,” said Decker.
The woman came back out a few seconds later, turned, and walked off down the alley.
Decker looked at Lancaster. “She went back in to hang the keys on the hook. Bar guy probably never even saw her.”
“Right.”
“So she picked up Leopold and then dropped him off somewhere. Pretty smart to do it with someone else’s car. No plate for us to run.”
“But we can check the car for her prints. She wasn’t wearing gloves.”
While Lancaster put in a call, Decker was staring at the screen.
When she clicked off he said, “Okay, run it again but this time enlarge the image as much as you can.”
Lancaster did so, several times, at Decker’s request. From where the camera was angled they were watching from the rear of the car. They could see her slide into the driver’s seat and later swing her long legs out to exit. Her short skirt rode up her thighs when she did so. But there was no direct shot on the face.
“She’s got great legs,” said Lancaster. “Gotta give her that.”
“He does,” corrected Decker. At least I think it’s a guy.
“The barman was right, though.”
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