No, I was just about to leave, in fact. Sheriff Krause runs things up here. Well be cooperating down in Minneapolis, if he needs the backup.
So why did you come up? ODell asked. She put a little wood-rasp in her voice, a little annoyance, so hed understand her status here.
Lucas grinned at her, mild-voiced and friendly: Mr. Kresge carried a lot of clout in Minneapolis, so its possible the motive for the shooting will be found there. Quite possibly with the bank, from what I hear about this merger. Detective SloanLucas looked at Sloan, who raised a hand in greetinghas been assigned to help Sheriff Krause with his interviews, so we can get you folks on your way home.
Are you s-s-sure it wasnt an accident? Robles stuttered.
Lucas shook his head and Krause said, He was murdered.
So thats it, ODell said, and the bankers all looked at each other for a moment, and then Bone broke the silence: Damn it. Thatll tangle things up.
McDonald, ignoring Krause, asked Lucas, Do you think… one of us…?
Lucas looked at Krause. We have no reason to think so, in particular. Since we know you were here, weve got to talk to you, Krause said. But weve got no suspects.
SLOAN SUGGESTED THAT HE WOULD PREFER TO TALK to the four of them individually, inside, while the others waited on the porch. Nice day, anyway, he said, pleasantly. And it shouldnt take long.
Let me go first, McDonald grunted, pushing up from his chair. I want to get back and start talking to the PR people. Well need a press release ASAP. God, what a disaster.
Fine, Sloan said. He turned to Lucas: You gonna take off?
Yeah. The sheriffll send you back with a deputy.
See you later then, Sloan said. Mr. McDonald?
McDonald followed Sloan and Krause into the cabin. When theyd gone, Bone said to Lucas, Id feel better about this if you were running things.
Krause is a pretty sharp cookie, I think, Lucas said. Hell take care of it.
Still, its not something where you want a mistake made, Bone said. A murder, I meanwhen youre a suspect, but youre innocent.
I appreciate that, Lucas said. He glanced at the other two, then took a card case from his jacket pocket, extracted four business cards and passed them around. If any of you need any information about the course of the investigation, or need any help at all, call me directly, any time, night or day. Theres a home phone listed as well as my office phone. Ms. ODell, if you could give one to Mr. McDonald.
Very nice of you, ODell said, looking at the cards. We just want to get this over with.
You shot one of the deer, didnt you? Lucas asked her. The two gutted deer were hanging head down from the cabins deer pole in the side yard.
The bigger of the two, she said.
I like mine tender, Bone said dryly. Always go for a doe.
Good shot, Lucas said to ODell. Broke his shoulder, wiped out his heart; I bet he didnt go ten feet from where you shot him.
She didnt feel any insinuation; he was just being polite. Do you hunt? she asked.
He smiled and nodded: Quite a bit.
WHEN LUCAS HAD GONE, ODELL SAID TO BONE, thats not a bad dog. Thats a pussycat.
Bone took another cheroot out of his jacket pocket, along with a kitchen match, which he scratch-lit on the porch railing; an affectation he acknowledged and enjoyed. Hes killed four or five guys, I think, in the line of duty. He built a software company from nothing to a ten-million AT buyout in about six years. In his spare time. And Ill tell you something else…
He took a long drag on the cheroot, and blew a thin stream of smoke out into the warming afternoon air, irritating ODell. What?
Bone said, When we did the transfers on the IPO, I talked to him for ten minutes. While we were doing it, my daughter called on my private line, from school. All upset. She was having a problem with a language credit, and she was afraid theyd hold up her graduation. I mentioned it to him, in passingjust explaining the phone call. This was seven months ago. He remembered me, he remembered Sallys name, and he remembered the language she was taking.
Bone looked at ODell. You can take him lightly, if you want. I wouldnt. Especially if you pulled the trigger twice this morning.
Dont be absurd, she said. But she looked after Lucas, down by the parking area, just getting into his truck. Nice shoulders, she said, thinking the comment would irritate just about everybody on the porch.
THE TRUCK WAS VERY QUIET WITHOUT SLOAN: LUCAS didnt need the quietin the quiet, his mind would begin to churn, and that would lead
…
He wasnt sure where it would lead.
He was tired, but he needed to be more tired. He needed to be so tired that when he got back home, he could lie down and sleep before the churning began. He put a tape in the tape player, ZZ Top, theGreatest Hitsalbum, and turned it up. Interference. Cant churn when theres too much interference.
The killing at the hunting camp was not particularly interesting: one possible motive, the bank merger, was already fairly clear. Others of a more personal nature might pop up laterKresge was in the process of getting a divorce, so there might be other women. Or his wife might have something to do with it.
Routine investigation would dredge it all up, and either the killer would be caught or he wouldnt. Whichever, Lucas felt fairly distant from the process. Hed been through it dozens of times, and the routine greed, love, and stupidity killings no longer held much interest.
Evil was interesting, he would still admit; this a residue from his term in Catholic schools. But so far he detected no evil in the killing. Spite, probably; stupidity, possibly. Greed. Anger. But not real evil…
HE RODE MINDLESSLY FOR A WHILE, THE WINTER fields and woods rolling by, holsteins out catching a few uncommon November rays, horses dancing through hillside pastures; a few thousand doomed turkeys… Then he glanced out the side window, caught the boles on the oaks, recognized them, shivered. Turned up the tape.
Hed been dreaming again, lately; he hated the dreams, because they woke him up, and when he woke, in the night, his mind would begin running. And the dreams always woke him…
One dream had an odd quality of science fiction. He was being lowered, on some kind of platform, into a huge steelcylinder. Nearby was a steel cap, two feet thick, with enormous threads, which would be screwed into place after he was inside, sealing him in. The process was industriaclass="underline" there were other people running around, making preparations for whatever was about to happen. He was cooperating with them, standing on the platform obviously expectant. But for what? Why was he about to be sealed inside the cylinder? He didnt know, but he wasnt frightened by the prospect. He was engaged by it, though. Hed start thinking about it, and then hed wake up, his mind churning…
The other dream was stranger.
A mans face, seen from a passing car. There were small beads of rain on the window glass, so the view was slightly obscured; in his dream, Lucas could not quite get a fix on the face. The man was hard, slender, wore an ankle-length black coat and a snap-brim hat. Most curious were the almond-shaped eyes, but where the surfaces of his eyes should bethe pupils and irisesthere were instead two curls of light maple-colored wood shavings. The man seemed to be hunched against a wind, and the drizzle; he seemed to be cold. And he looked at Lucas under the brim of the hat, with those eyes that had curls of wood on their surfaces.
Lucas had begun to see the almond shapes around him on the street. See them on the faces of distant men, or in random markings on buildings, or on trees. Nonsense: but this dream frightened him. He would wake with a start, sweat around the neckline of his T-shirt. And then his mind would start to run…
He turned up the ZZ Top yet another notch, and raced toward the Cities, looking for exhaustion.
AN HOUR AFTER LUCAS HAD PASSED THAT WAY, JAMES T. Bone hurtled down I-35 in a large black BMW. As he crossed the I-694 beltline he picked up the cell phone and pushed the speed-dial number. The other phone rang three times before a woman answered it, her voice carrying a slight whiskey burr. Hello?