“Was he?” “No.” “So it was odd, his not being there?” Gorman sat forward on the edge of his seat, his voice harder than before. “I’m not sure I like this. You’re implying Ellie knows something she’s not admitting.”
“Am I?” “I think so. And as her friend, I think I ought to tell her not to speak any further with you.” “Is that right, Mrs. Wingate? You want to stop talking with us?” She looked from us to Gorman and back.
“We’re trying to find the man who killed your husband. Anything you could tell us might help.” “I would like to help, but I took a Valium last night. I was asleep.” I cleared my throat and Spinney glanced over to me, cocking an eyebrow.
“Ellie,” I said, “I looked at your prescription bottle. It was filled a month ago. All twenty pills are still in the bottle.” Ellie’s eyes shot up and flitted nervously between Spinney and me. “I… I was asleep.” “This has nothing to do with finding out who killed this poor woman’s husband. If you suspect her of something, then come out and say it.
Otherwise, I’m going to ask you to leave.” I heard a car drive up outside and a door slam. A few moments later there was a knock at the door. Spinney rose and left the room.
“Ellie, do you have something you want to tell me?” “No.” “I think you do. I think you know who wrote that note last night. I think your husband may have gone off to meet someone. Was that note from Julie? Or from someone claiming to know where she was?” Her hands were a tight ball in her lap, the knuckles white. “No.” I heard Spinney talking with someone in the hall, then steps going back down toward the stairs.
“That’s enough. What are you implying?” Spinney spoke from the hall door. “We’re implying that Mrs. Wingate knows more than she’s telling us. She lied about the Valium and we think she’s lying about the identity of whoever wrote that note.” Gorman stood up and grabbed Ellie’s elbow, just as her husband had earlier. The repetition of the gesture deepened my already-keen interest in her she was taking on the look of a talisman of sorts, the “~ r of the secrets. Did she know if Wingate started that fire? Did Il Fox beforehand? Did she know who killed her husband? orman’s voice pulled me back to the present. “We’re leaving. is lying dead out there, and you’re in here badgering his widow. ‘re so hung up on getting who killed him, talk to Sarris. That’s man, or one of his goons. Bruce Wingate challenged his authority, ow Bruce is dead. It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure that ut.” rose as Mrs. Wingate did. “Are you leaving, Ellie, or do you want k with us further?” pinney stood in the doorway, filling it. Ellie looked around the ‘Please get out of the way, Sergeant.” ‘Ellie?” I asked again. ‘I want to go,” she whispered. pinney stood aside. “Where’re you headed?”
‘Home,” she said vaguely.
‘You’re not going to try to find Julie, after all this?” I asked.
‘That’s my job now,” Gorman answered. “I’ll be staying at the Horse Motel in St. Johnsbury until this mess is cleared up.” He d her past Spinney into the hallway.
pinney reached out and touched his arm as he passed. “I know Wingate is eager to get home and put this behind her, but like it t, we’re going to have to ask her more questions over the next e of days.” ‘So?” pinney leaned forward just a hair-a hint of aggressive body age. “Mr.
Gorman, you know and I know that there are some ems with all this, some unanswered questions. It would be a lot if she stuck around here for a while. Cooperation from you will in your favor.” orman started to answer, but then paused a moment. “All right. Mrs.
Wingate up at my motel for a couple of days. But no more, nderstand?
She needs to get back to a familiar environmenta e.
pinney smiled. “Thank you, appreciate it.” eaving Greta behind, we followed them downstairs and watched rman piled Ellie into his car.
“We’ll send along her things after ime lab’s through with them.” orman flipped a hand at me. “Whatever.” He walked around driver’s side of the car, got in, and drove off toward II 4. As left, I saw Ellie’s white face looking back at us, drawn and strained-stressed, I thought, as much by her knowledge as by her grief.
Spinney looked at me. “Holding out on the sleeping pills, hey?” “Not on purpose. I was about to tell Smith when he took off.” “No sweat; it went okay. We got other problems, though.” “What?” “You know a guy named Rennie Wilson?” “Sure.” The introduction of Rennie’s name in this context startled me. I looked at Spinney’s serious face and felt the plug being pulled from some small but sensitive vial in my chest. “Why?”
“They just found his lighter at the scene, under the body.” “I don’t want to talk to these butt-heads.” Rennie sat on the tailgate of his pickup, his feet dangling, his arms crossed over his chest, his torso rocking slightly back and forth like a tightly wound-up toy.
“So they told me.” “Fucking assholes.” Spinney stood nearby. Slowly, without much movement, he got all the troopers and most everyone else away from the truck. “Shit. I was the one that got all these bozos up here in the first place. Some murderer.” From where I stood, I could see into the ravine. Bruce Wingate’s body was being placed into a black body bag, his hands enveloped in clear plastic sacks. The almost mystical feeling of this morning-of the lonely corpse wreathed in foggy tendrils-had been replaced with one of mechanical industry. Crime lab technicians, troopers, and plainclothesmen were slowly combing the outlying reaches of the scene, using tape measures, cameras, and assorted esoterica. The ground was littered with evidence cans, tool boxes, and odd pieces of equipment.
Wingate, in his bag, looked uncomfortably out of place, as if he’d fallen unnoticed out the back of some ambulance.
Rennie followed my gaze. “What the fuck kind of airhead do they think I am? I’m going to kill a guy, ditch his body in that hole, and then call everyone except the fucking National Guard? Get real. I’d have to be some kind of dick-head, you know?” Procedure is that the body stays as found while the search team through its routine. Only then does the medical examiner come o an examination, and finally roll the body over to check the other That’s when they found the lighter, lying on the ground. I noticed medical examiner was a man this time, presumably Hillstrom’s I rep. He was a heavyset bald man with black-rimmed glasses who ed to have difficulty moving around.
I looked at Rennie. I’d known him a long time, had seen him fly he handle many times, although never violently. Still, he was impulbull-headed, and right now, incredibly angry. God knows I didn’t him to be guilty of Wingate’s murder, but in all honesty I couldn’t him out. “It’s not unheard of for the guilty party to scream the est, just to divert attention.” “Well, what about the lighter? Shit. IfI was that smart, why would left the fucking lighter behind? Besides, I haven’t seen that damn g in months.” “The lighter might have fallen out of your pocket by accident.” “I told you I lost it months ago.” I didn’t reply.
He looked around at the now distant state cops. “Assholes.” “You told them you’d only talk to me. So talk.” “I didn’t do it.” “Okay. So how ‘bout I ask some dumb questions, just for the rd?” “Do I have a choice?”
I was starting to feel he was protesting too much for his own “You’re not under arrest, Rennie. You can leave right now, if want. In fact, maybe you ought to just stay quiet and get a law”You’re shittin’ me.”
“If I were in your position, that’s what I’d do.” He gave me a devious sidelong glance. “What is this, reverse hology?” “I’m just saying we can talk if you want to-you’re under no gation.” “I didn’t do it, Joe.”