Head Shot

'There isn't much to tell,' Polhaus answered, 'as far as his life around here goes. He was sixty-eight years old but he had been among us for only the last three years, since he retired from legal practice in Chicago, Illinois. He and his wife RoseAnne bought a house here at that time.'

'Any family?' asked Skinner.

'They have a son named Arthur, who succeeded his father as senior partner in the Chicago firm, and two daughters, Annette and Merle.'

'Where's the body?'

'It was released to the family last Friday. Mrs Wilkins and her son flew back to Chicago on Saturday with the coffin, for burial in their family plot. She said that the services were scheduled for Wednesday. Is there a problem with that?'

'I shouldn't think so,' said Doherty. 'Were either of you two gentlemen at the crime scene?'

'We both were,' Sumner replied. 'When she found her husband, the lady assumed at first that he had fal en and cut his head; she thought he was unconscious, and she reported the circumstances as such, so a paramedic crew was sent. They realised that it was a fatality, so they called for a patrolman to attend. Fortunately one of our smarter guys responded. He saw that there was no obvious place for the victim to have cut himself and that there was no blood trail… indeed that there was very little blood. So he radioed in for detective backup.

'When I got there I knew at once that this was no superficial head wound, and I knew that I was going to need Tad's resources as well as my own.'

'Going on the report that was filed, and logged on to the national database, you decided that this was a homicide committed in the course of a burglary.'

'That's what it was,' Polhaus exclaimed. 'We're in no doubt about it.

There were articles removed from the house. Mr Wilkins' pocketbook was taken, containing Amex, Master and Visa cards and over four hundred dol ars in cash. The man wore a ten-grand Breitling watch. That was gone; so was a heavy gold bracelet from his other wrist and a top specification laptop computer from his desk.

'If that doesn't constitute a burglary, sir, I don't know what does.'

'Neither do I, Chief,' Skinner assured him. 'No one's disputing that for one minute. How about signs of entry? The report I read didn't mention that.'

'There weren't any. Gordon and I believe that Mrs Wilkins left the back door open when she went out to the mal and that the guy just walked in. She recal ed that she locked it, but she admitted that she couldn't be certain.'

'She's been eliminated as a possibility, I take it?'

'Yes she has, completely. We did consider that possibility, don't worry, but the autopsy ruled that out straight away. The knife wound in the victim's head was five inches deep. It went clear through his brain; if the blade had been any longer it would have come out the other side of the skul. That was a hellish powerful blow, Mr Skinner. She couldn't have done it.'

'Did the pathologist give you a picture of the person who did?'

'Yes. A right-handed man, he said; probably as tall as the victim, and he was six one. Mrs Wilkins is five two; we're looking for a big guy, not a little woman.'

'Granted,' the DCC agreed. 'How about location? Where did the attack happen?'

'In the victim's den; his study, I suppose you'd call it in England.'

Skinner smiled. 'I wouldn't cal it anything in England, Chief; I'm a Scot, remember. I know what a den is; I know also from my father-in law that quite often it's in converted cellar space. Was that the case here?'

'Yes, it was. It's accessed by a door off the hall leading to a flight of stairs.'

'Apart from the items you described, what else was taken from the house?'

Skinner saw the frown gather on Polhaus' broad face. 'Nothing, according to Mrs Wilkins.'

'What else was disturbed?'

'Nothing, but so what? Our theory is that the guy broke in, started his search in the den and was disturbed by the victim. He kil ed him, grabbed what he could, and ran for it. There was a home gym next door and a shower-room beyond that. Maybe Wilkins was taking a leak and came back in.'

'I don't deal in maybes. When you found him, were his pants wet?'

'Excuse me?'

'Did he void his bladder when he was stabbed?'

'I dunno. Gordon?'

Sumner nodded. 'Yes, sir, as I recal he did.'

'In that case he hadn't just taken a piss.'

The visiting detective looked from one of his hosts to the other. 'What forensic samples have you recovered from the scene?'

'None that have significance,' the Lieutenant answered. 'We've identified every print we found in the house; no wild ones left.'

'Fibres?'

'Nothing out of place.'

'Dirt from footwear?'

'None that we found.'

Skinner's right eyebrow rose, almost theatrically. 'Come on, gentlemen,' he exclaimed. 'The intruder comes through a door, which Mrs Wilkins said she locked, without leaving a trace. He comes straight down here and kills his victim, then leaves without disturbing anything in the house, without leaving a single print, or shedding a single body hair.

'Fine, he takes the dead man's wallet and jewellery, his laptop, and a clock off his desk. But none of the credit cards… I don't even bother asking the question because I know the answer… have been used, and none of the other items have been offered for sale to any pawnshop or known fence in the massive and great state of Montana. You guys have been close up to this investigation; I understand that and I respect it. But now, take a step back from it, look at those circumstances and tel me what you see.'

Polhaus looked at Sumner, then back at Skinner. He sighed, heavily.

'I'll admit it; there was something about this investigation that didn't sit right, almost from the start, but out here we don't have much experience of burglary homicides. Like I said back then, we welcome your input.'

'No one has much experience of burglary homicide, Chief,' said Doherty, gently. 'Even in the cities it's a relatively unusual type of felony. We're here because of three incidents within a two-week period, and this is one of them: three retired lawyers, with career histories going back to Washington in the sixties.

'Tell me, was Mr Wilkins active in Democrat politics in Helena?'

Polhaus laughed, unexpectedly. 'Sir, this is Montana. There ain't too many active Democrats out here. Sure, I knew that Bart was on that side, but it was in his past. You're not suggesting that's what got him killed, are you?'

'To be frank, Chief, we don't know for sure, but at this point we are not ruling out any connection. Past involvement in Democrat politics is one of the factors linking the three homicide victims. But let's go back there; you said you knew Mr Wilkins.'

The big investigator nodded. 'Sure I did, and so did Gordon here. We both have kids in junior high school; they have a football team.. . touch footbal only at their age, you understand… and Bart was one of the coaches. Football was his main interest in life, apart from politics and the law. I guess he was a pretty good player in his youth; you have to be, if you're a first-string line-backer for Notre Dame.'

Doherty was impressed, instantly. 'He played for the Fighting Irish?'

'Yes, sir; class of fifty-three. He had pro offers, he said, but he turned them down, and went on to Yale law school instead.'

'Mr Grace was at Yale, wasn't he?' the FBI man asked the Scot.

'Yes, but before fifty-three. He was back from Korea by then and starting out in practice.'

Skinner looked at Polhaus. 'Did you play at col ege?'

'I wish. I was good enough for high school, but I didn't make the team when I stepped up; too slow, the coaches said..; and they were right.'

'Did Mr Wilkins talk much about those days?'

'College?'

'Well, yes, but afterwards too. Did he ever talk about his early career; his Washington days?'