“Sweetheart, I think the only warrant you’re going to find at a Federal courthouse is an arrest warrant for Kate Mayfield and John Corey.”
“Then let’s go to Schaeffer and see if he can get the local D.A. to get a search warrant.”
“Kate, no one is going to issue any warrant with Bain Madox’s name on it based on what you or I tell them. We need to get more evidence.”
“Such as?”
“Well, obviously some hair and fibers from the Custer Hill lodge that will match what was found on Harry’s body and clothes. That’s the connecting forensic evidence that’s required to link Madox’s lodge to Harry, and Harry to Madox, who was at the lodge.”
“All right… but how do you get fibers from the Custer Hill Club without a search warrant?”
“The same way I’d do it if I was investigating the murder of John Doe, who I believed was last seen alive at the house of Joe Smith.”
“What do you mean…?”
“I’m going to the Custer Hill Club to pay a visit to Mr. Madox.”
“I don’t want you to go there.”
“Why not? This is what I’d do at this stage of any other homicide investigation. We’re running out of clues and leads at this point, so I need to go back to the prime suspect and talk to him.”
“I’m going with you.”
“Actually, you’re not. I need you here to work the details that we’ll need to build the case… the stuff we’ll need to get a search warrant.” Actually, the time was running out for that, but it sounded good.
“No,” she said firmly. “You are not going there alone.” She looked at me. “It could be dangerous.”
“It’s not dangerous. This is not Dracula’s Castle. I’m a Federal agent making some inquiries.”
“He’s already killed one Federal agent.”
Good point. But I replied, “And he probably regrets it. If he doesn’t, he will later.” I walked back into the sitting area and put on my leather jacket.
Kate followed and also put on her jacket.
This was one of those moments that called for just the right combination of firmness and tenderness. I took her in my arms and said, “I need you here. We’re a little short on manpower today. I can really handle this myself.”
“No.”
“I think I have a better chance of getting in to see him if I’m alone.”
“No.”
“I’ll check in with Schaeffer’s surveillance team at the intersection. Okay? I’ll tell them to give me an hour, and if I’m not out by then, they should send in the cavalry. Okay?”
That seemed to do the trick, and she appeared less insistent that she go with me.
I concluded with, “Keep in touch with Schaeffer. Also, call The Point and see who’s looking for us. Tell them we’re shopping in Lake Placid, and if Mr. Griffith calls, he should meet us downtown. And remind Jim that Sonny DeMott was going to loan me a tie and jacket for dinner.”
“He was?”
“I’m sure he would. Just bullshit them.” I added, “Pretend you’re me.”
She smiled, then said, “I want you to turn on your cell phone.”
“Kate, no cell phones. You turn that thing on, and Liam Griffith will be at this door within an hour.”
“John… this is not the way we work.”
“Now and then, sweetheart, you have to stretch the rules a little.”
“Now and then? You did this on the last case.”
“I did? Well, it turned out okay. Meanwhile, see if you can get a pizza delivered.”
We went to the door, and Kate said, “Be careful.”
“No anchovies.”
We smooched, and off I went to Dracula’s Castle.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Ifound a convenience store on the outskirts of Canton. Or maybe it was downtown Canton. Hard to tell.
Anyway, I went in and bought what I needed for my mission, which was a package of Drake’s Ring Dings with cream inside, and one of those little sticky lint rollers.
The checkout guy gave me a shortcut back to Colton, a distance of about thirty miles. I also asked him where the sporting-goods store was, and he gave me directions.
I got back in the car and thought about my next move. It was a little after 1:00 P.M., which meant I should be at the Custer Hill gatehouse before 2:00 if I didn’t stop to pick up a box of 9mm rounds and a few extra magazines. I mean, if I was going to blow Madox’s brains out, I had more than enough ammo in my fifteen-round magazine, plus one in the chamber.
On the other hand, if I needed to shoot my way out of there, I was possibly a few rounds short. Bottom line with ammunition is that it’s always better to have more than you need, because if you have less than you need, things didn’t usually work out well.
Also, I probably shouldn’t have done an ammo check with Kate, who may have been wondering if I was planning an assault on the Custer Hill Club. I wasn’t sure about that myself, but it was an option.
Anyway, I decided that my first order of business should be to get to the Custer Hill Club and see what, if anything, Madox was up to. If I needed more ammo, I knew Madox had plenty of guns lying around.
I began driving, and I turned on the radio and listened to a talk show in French, live from Quebec.
I had no idea what they were saying, but everyone seemed really worked up about something, and I could pick out the words “Iraq,” “America,” “Bush,” and “Hussein.”
The melodious French language was giving me a headache, so I scanned the channels, trying to find a news channel that might mention the hunting accident, but all I got were DJs and local commercials. I locked in to a country-western station, and Hank Williams was wailing “Your Cheatin’ Heart.” Why I like this music is a mystery to me and a secret I don’t share with many people.
The weather was still good, and the country road was decent and lightly traveled, so I was making good time.
I opened the Ring Dings and sharked the first one, then savored the second. Truly an exploration of chocolate.
I noodled while I drove and listened to Hank singing “Hey, Good Lookin’.”
First, Kate was safe enough back in Wilma’s B amp;B if she didn’t get an attack of duty, honor, and country, and call Walsh or Griffith.
Ms. Mayfield is a bit more savvy than she seems, and I hoped that she was in her post-9/11 mind-set, and understood that something very odd was going on in New York and Washington, and that she shouldn’t be calling anyone about that.
Second, the last time I checked with Major Schaeffer, he was on our side. But that could change very quickly. Or maybe he never really was on our side. If a state trooper pulled me over in my Enterprise rental car, I’d have the answer to that before I got to the Custer Hill Club.
Third, Tom Walsh. He really wasn’t clued in to whatever was going on, and now he was probably in trouble for sending the absolutely most wrong agents up here to work the case of the missing Harry Muller. Well, if he was in deep shit, he got what he deserved. On the other hand, he’d originally wanted me here in place of Harry. What was that all about?
Fourth, Liam Griffith, the Enforcer. I recalled that he was a friend of my enemy, the happily departed Ted Nash, CIA officer, so, as the Arabs would say, Any friend of my enemy is my enemy. Especially if they’re both assholes. I needed to avoid this guy until I had the power to take him down.
And last but not least, Mr. Bain Madox, who had apparently once tried to start a thermonuclear war to see how it turned out. I mean, this was so far off the chart that I had trouble grasping it. But all the little pieces that I’d seen for myself, including meeting the gentleman, seemed to point in that direction. I thought maybe Madox had watched too many James Bond movies during his formative years, and related too well to the sicko villains.
Bain Madox, however, was not some movie bad guy with a foreign accent; he was an all-American boy, a war hero, and a success story. Sort of like Horatio Alger with a thermonuclear death wish.