In fact, you know what, I’m going tonight, I’m going to go stay with Tara till we fly to Mexico.She lives—”
I stopped her.“Don’t tell anyone where she lives.”
Indignant, Connie turned quickly on his stool.“What does that mean? I’m a suspect too?”
“Everybody’s a suspect.”
MONDAY NIGHT, I was back at my desk.Every twenty minutes or so, Rod stuck his head out of his office to ask me if I was all right, if I wanted coffee or a back rub.There was no news yet on Barclay.I hadn’t been able to reach Garth.I kept getting Ashley’s brisk voice on the machine.“Ashley and Garth.Leave a message.” My message was just, “Garth.
It’s Jamie.It’s important.Call me.” I left all my numbers.
So when my cell rang, I thought it was Garth.But it was Pudge.
“Oh, Christ Almighty, thank God.Why didn’t you call me, Pudge?!”
Pudge was too steamed to answer.“I told you! You guys should have done something!” He had only now heard about Amanda; he’d called Eileen from Camden.Connie had told her, and Pudge had already spoken 1 7 3
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with Connie before calling me so he knew the details.“Didn’t I tell you, didn’t I warn you?”
“Pudge, maybe you should stay at your sister’s till we sort this out.”
“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.I’m not going to wait for you and the rest of the stupid police anymore.We all know who did this.
Barclay.He was having an affair with her and she broke it off.We all saw how mad he was Saturday night.Connie and I think Barclay did it.”
I was surprised that Connie had reached Pudge so quickly when I hadn’t been able to.
“A while ago you and Connie thought it was a random crazy person.
You can’t have it both ways, Pudge.Either it’s about the Killing Club or it’s not.If it’s about Barclay and Amanda, why would Barclay kill Ben?”
“I don’t know.I’m going to find out.On my own!” He hung up.
Before I could reach Eileen to get Pudge’s sister’s number, Rod stuck his head out of his office again.“Hey, baby, they found the car.”
“Barclay’s Mercedes?”
“Yeah.” Rod still had the cordless phone to his ear, listening. “You’re kidding,” he said to the phone.“Tell me you didn’t break into the trunk, Danny....Yeah? ...” Rod had a look of victory.“Great. Bring it on, buddy.We’ll be waiting down in the lab for you.”
Highway patrol had spotted the luxury sedan abandoned at the first rest stop off the expressway.The dispatcher had called Danny and he’d driven out there and ID’d it.Barclay’s SL600 was undamaged.There were a few mungo pine needles embedded in the Pirelli tires.In the trunk, covered by a plaid blanket, lay an Excalibur Deluxe Version 225-pound draw, 16.5-inch power stroke crossbow. According to Abu, who examined the weapon when I brought it to the lab, the highly polished bow had as 1 7 4
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many state-of-the-art accessories as the Mercedes it had been found in.It had a quick-detach sling swivel, a fiber-optic front sight, a detachable cocking aid and a scope mount.It could shoot carbon bolts with 100-gram target points at an amazing 350 feet per second.Exactly the same kind of bolt that had killed Amanda Morgan.
The crossbow, and all its accessories, had Barclay’s prints on it and no one else’s, though many of the prints were smeared.
The big problem for me was that of the many different fingerprints in and on the Mercedes, there was a set already on file at GPD.There were also three or more minuscule flecks of gold glitter on the headrest of the driver’s seat, just like I got on my skin when my brother Dino rubbed his curls in my face and told me he loved me.
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TELEVISION NEWS POUNCEDon Amanda’s bizarre death, devoured it and spit out the pieces on every channel.I didn’t watch.
My father and I hadn’t heard a word from Dino since I’d gotten his upbeat call from a bus station somewhere in Virginia.I didn’t tell Dad why I was looking for my brother now; he was mad enough at Dino as it was.The Richmond police were unable to locate a rock band calling itself First Offenders.His friends from Jonesy’s Marina hadn’t seen him since he’d been fired.His musician friends didn’t know where they were, much less where Dino might have gone.There was no doubt, as I admitted to Rod, that at some point he’d gone joyriding in Barclay’s Mercedes, doubtless by getting access to it through Clay; maybe it had been weeks ago that they’d taken their ride.Clay denied it.Nevertheless, Dino’s mug shot 1 7 6
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went out over the wire: Wanted by the Gloria, New Jersey, Police Department for questioning in a homicide.
“Rod, we know Dino didn’t kill Amanda Morgan.”
“Well, let him come home and say so.”
“Dino carries moths back outside.He holds open the kitchen door for moths.”
“Dino should stay out of other people’s cars.”
Repeated phone calls to River Bend had failed to produce anything useful from Clay.I needed to talk to my nephew in person.So I went, late, to the Ober cocktail party that Monday after all.I went in a squad car, with Naoko and Bill.The driveway had floodlights on it, and stepping from the car, I noticed a tiny sprig of mungo pine, which I had Naoko come spot with me before I put it in an evidence cup.
Inside River Bend, gathered around the huge Christmas tree, as if they were going to sing, stood Gloria’s rich and influential; except Jim Morgan wasn’t there, of course.There was no way these people didn’t know about Amanda’s death, but they appeared not to care much.
Meredith wasn’t happy to see me back, especially when I said I’d wait after she assured me Barclay had not been heard from.But putting a brave face on things, she decided to pretend I’d come for the party and began introducing me to people I already knew, like Connie and the mayor and the president of a nearby college.I declined her offered cup of eggnog, pointedly saying I was on duty.“Congratulate Father Connie,”
she ordered me.“He’s been nominated by his bishop to be a monsignor.
That would make him a Prelate of Honor to His Holiness the Pope.” I was struck by how quickly Meredith, who’d always given me the impression 1 7 7
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that she had no use for Connie or Catholicism and disliked his being at the house all the time with Tricia, had mastered the language of church hierarchy.
I said, “That’s great, Connie.”
“The youngest,” our hostess added.
I repeated, “That’s great, Connie.” He appeared to think I was being sarcastic because he frowned, then smiled in mock apology.“I mean it.
May you live to be a cardinal.And speaking of living and dying, did you tell Pudge you thought Barclay had murdered Amanda?”
Meredith snapped at me, “I very much doubt that.”
I shrugged.“Apparently Connie and Pudge discussed it.”
“Jamie, for heaven sakes!” Connie blushed, mumbling that he must have been misunderstood.A furious Meredith hustled me back into the wide center hall of the Georgian house.The floor was black and white marble.Her dress and hair matched it.Positioning me beside a round table crowded with gifts in glittering paper, she urged me to “stop hound-ing” them and their guests.From the ceiling hung a gargantuan brass chandelier; Barclay’s mother looked like she was hoping it would fall on my head.
“Hey, Jamie.Still looking for Dad?” Halfway up the cantilevered stairs, Clay squatted on the steps.He waved down at me, curiously cheerful.
“Looking for you, too, kid,” I called to him.
Meredith hissed, “Clay, go to your room.” At the same moment, Tricia appeared from the rear of the house carrying a small silver tray of Christmas cookies, and just then the front doorbell rang.Opening the door to an elderly state senator and his wife, Meredith glanced at the 1 7 8
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Tricia didn’t try to stop me when I walked up the stairs and sat beside Clay.But she didn’t leave the foyer either, just stood there below us, motionless as a model for a painting, and not a happy one.I watched Connie, in his black priestly suit, join her, take her hands to comfort her.She kept nodding as they went out the front door together.
“Okay, Clay.” I leaned slightly against him. “You know what this is about?” He smelled of marijuana.
He grinned.“My dad, the town shag king? Did he kill Amanda Morgan?”
I shrugged.“Hope not.”
“That’s why you were asking me about the crossbow.Tricia hated her; maybe she killed her.”
“Could be.Know where he is?”
Clay mimicked my shrug.“Nope.” I cupped his chin, but he yanked away from me.“No!”
“Actually, I want to talk to you about his Mercedes.And Dino.”
Hopping to his feet, Clay ran upstairs.I followed but he blocked my way to his room at the far end of the hall.There was a poster of the rock band Pearl Jam on his door that his grandmother must have loved.“You 1 7 9
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can’t come in here!” he growled, standing between the door and me, trying to mask his trembling.
“Probably a good thing,” I nodded.“Probably have to bust you for possession if I got in that room.Or maybe the stash is all out in that summer kitchen of yours.”
“Stay out of there.”
I backed away, hoping he wouldn’t bolt.“Clay, you need to talk to me.This is serious.You ever let Dino drive any of your dad’s cars? I know you two like to go for rides together.You ever let him come over here and borrow the SL?”
“No!” He slipped behind the door, quickly turning the lock.“Dino didn’t take it!”
Below us, I heard Tricia return with Connie to the front door, walk across the marble into the party.“Clay, listen to me, you got to trust me here.This isn’t about hurting Dino.Tell me the last time you guys took the Mercedes.Did he come get it here last night? Tell me where he took it.
Is Dino the one who dumped it at the rest stop this morning? Talk to me, Clay.”
Silence.As Clay hadn’t given up his father, whom he hated, it was no surprise he wouldn’t give up an uncle he loved.
“Were you two following me in a car when I was walking along Dock Street, couple of nights ago? Shining your brights on me?”
“No!” was shouted through the door.
“Did you ever let Dino use any of the weapons in your dad’s gun room?”
The key turned in the door lock.Clay stared out at me through the crack, his eyes anxious to find information in mine.But he didn’t speak.
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“Clay, if you have any way of reaching Dino, make him come home immediately.It’ll get real ugly if he doesn’t.” Dino didn’t have a cell phone because Dad was sick of paying the bills, but I thought maybe we could trace a call if he was using someone else’s phone to call Clay.“I’m not playing games.Somebody killed Amanda Morgan with your dad’s crossbow.”
He gave a nasty laugh.“Dad gets my vote.”
Tricia startled me, climbing the stairs and moving along the dark hallway so quietly that I didn’t hear her.When Clay slammed his door, I turned to see her deep green dress fade into the shadowy walls.She motioned me away from Clay’s door and kept gesturing me toward her, back down the stairs.I could hear voices and the clinking of glass from the living room.Only after we were standing in the foyer again did she say anything.“He took the car at nine fifteen Sunday morning.I saw him leave from my upstairs window.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant.“The Mercedes? Who took it? Barclay?”
She laughed in an odd, bitter way.“No, Clay took it.”
“Clay? Was Dino with him?”
“Dino, your brother? No, Clay was by himself.”
“The Mercedes was here Sunday morning.Had it been here all night?”
She thought a moment.“I have no idea when Barclay brought the Mercedes home.For all I know he was out in it till morning.” Tricia put her large diamond wedding ring to her lips, biting at it softly.“The first time I saw the car back, Clay was driving it away.I was about to leave for church so I looked at my watch.It was nine fifteen.What I thought was, I can’t believe Clay’s up that early.”
“And you’re saying Clay took the car? Alone?”
“Yes.”
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“You let a thirteen-year-old drive away in a car?” I’d had it so firmly in my head that Dino had come over here to River Bend and taken Clay for a joyride, that I had to regroup.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Tricia said.
“Clay driving off in the Mercedes?”
“Late at night or when Barclay was out of town.”
“Did Barclay know?”
Tricia managed a smile.“I’m sure he didn’t.Clay would be black and blue.Don’t you think? And Meredith pays no attention.But I spend a lot of time in my room upstairs ...just looking out the window.” She added, almost as if she were simply asking for information, “The police think Barclay killed Amanda Morgan, don’t they?”
Taken aback, I studied the sadness in her face.It was not an unat-tractive face, it still had the clean preppy lines of a former debutante, but looking at Tricia made you realize how really beautiful Amanda had been.“I’m the police,” I finally said.“I don’t know if he killed her or not.
Somebody did.”
Her eyes lowered, she rearranged some of the holiday gifts that guests had brought and left on the round table.“How do you know it wasn’t me? Jealous wife.Cheating husband.Husband madly in love with another woman ...even on your wedding day.” She looked up at me, almost shyly.“Maybe even on your sister’s wedding day.”
“That’s what you think? Barclay was in love with Amanda?”
“Certainly since I met him.”
Tricia pointed at the closed door on the other side of the foyer.“Why don’t you ask him? He’s in there.” She picked up a pretty silver bowl of chocolates from the table and carried it into the party.
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. . .
BARCLAY WAS SITTING in the dark.I could see his silhouette, near the fireplace where a few red embers struggled not to fade away.I’d never been in the room before.It looked like something the Obers would call a library or a study—the den sort of idea, lots of books and paneling and an entertainment center.
“Barclay? It’s Jamie.We need to talk about Amanda.You need to tell me if you saw her in Etten Park yesterday morning.Because your car was there.”
I waited.Finally he spoke; his voice sounded hoarse, like someone with laryngitis.“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
Crossing the room, I stood in front of the high-backed leather chair in which he slumped, reminding me of his son, Clay.“You can talk to me here or we can go to the police station to talk.”
“I’m not doing either one.Just get out.”
“Can’t do it.” I gave him a choice. He could leave with me without disturbing his mother’s party or I could bring in the two uniformed officers who were now sitting in a squad car in his driveway and the three of us could remove him from his house by force.“You pick, Barclay.”
We were quiet for a while in the dark.Then he stood, looking at me as if I’d caused all his troubles.But he followed me quietly out of
the house.A senator, a judge and the mayor paused with their cocktails in the doorway to the living room as I walked Barclay out of the house.Connie saw us and started forward but I waved him back.Tricia stepped next to him, reached for his arm.Barclay’s mother gathered the guests to her, 1 8 3
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leading them back to where a hired waiter in a short red jacket stood waiting to serve them drinks.
THE TOWN GREEN WAS QUIET, a few shoppers pausing to look at the Christmas tree, a few teenage boys harassing the Virgin Mary and Joseph by trying to ride the plastic camel and cow in front of the manger.
The news vans had moved from the Dixon Building to Jim Morgan’s house, where they were hoping to catch a glimpse of his grief.So we weren’t bothered as we headed up the Dixon steps, Naoko and Bill right behind Barclay.I kept my hand near his arm, but not touching him.He hadn’t said a word on the ride to town.
Suddenly, far below us on the street, a car slammed to a stop, then someone started yelling at us.I looked down to the sidewalk.Pudge, drunk, staggered out of the still-open door of his Lexus and charged up the steps toward us, shouting loudly, “You killed her! You son of a bitch!
She dumped you and you killed her!”
Barclay bared his clenched teeth at me.“Back him off.”
But Pudge kept coming.“I know why now, I know why you killed Ben too.You sick son of a bitch!” Midway across the green, the couple looking at the Christmas tree turned to see what was going on.
I shoved Barclay behind me as he was saying, “That fathead lays one finger on me, he’s going to jail!”
Breathless and purple-faced, Pudge made it up to where we stood and threw a punch at Barclay that missed him by six feet.Grabbing Pudge from either side, Naoko and Bill hustled him all the way back to the sidewalk.
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Pudge yelled up at Barclay.“I’m not leaving this alone!”
“Yes, you are,” I called to him.“Get out of here, Pudge.”
“Do your job, Jamie.”
“Why don’t you let me?”
I told Naoko and Bill to take Pudge’s car keys away from him, to walk him across the green over to Dante’s and to call his wife, Eileen, and tell her to come pick him up.
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