Execution of Innocence (14 page)

“We're not doing much good here,” Sharp said as the two of them worked on yet another cup of coffee. “Should we go back out to the Crossroads?”

Riles shook his head. “We’d just get in the way.”

“Maybe we should check in with Kohner again.”

“If he finds something he'll let us know.”

“Then what are we doing here?” Sharp asked.

“We’re supposed to be thinking.”

“My brains stopped working when the girls left.” Sharp yawned. “Are you having any profound thoughts?”

“Linda Hoppe is on my mind.”

Sharp was surprised. “We are getting desperate, aren't we?”

“Perhaps not. All these girls grew up together. They know stuff about each other that could take us months to discover without them.”

“But Linda? She has less working brain tissue than Dick's.”

“Her stupidity could be her biggest asset. She doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut.” Riles stood. “I'd like to talk to her again.”

Sharp also got up slowly. “About what?”

“I keep thinking how the tire tracks led away from the second group of blood puddles that we found. I’d give a lot to know where those tracks ended up.” Riles paused as he headed for the door. “You don't have to come. You can rest if you want.”

“I told you, I go where you go.” Sharp had to laugh. “Even to Linda Hoppe's house.”

As it turned out, Linda was not at home, but at the Day Glow Donut. The detectives found her eating a chocolate-covered doughnut and drinking milk with friends. The latter cleared out as soon as they saw the lieutenants. Linda told them to get lost, in fact; she said it with authority, letting them know she was important and that she knew things they didn't. Even though their previous meeting had not ended well, Linda looked positively ecstatic to see them. She even offered them one of her doughnuts. The police respectfully declined. Linda rubbed her hands together excitedly.

“Have you caught them yet?” she asked.

“Who?” Sharp asked.

“The murderers, of course.”

“But we thought you thought Mary did it?” Riles asked.

Linda waved her hand. “I've thought about it more and changed my mind. It's too obvious that Mary is the killer. I mean, like, she announced to practically the whole world that she wanted to kill Charlie. Why would she do that and then go ahead and do it? I mean, shit, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Linda,” Sharp said patiently. “It is Dick who's dead.”

“I know, I know. But these things can happen in pairs, and Hannah and Dick are twins. We talked about that. I think there's a connection.”

Riles and Sharp had to exchange a look on that one.

“We fail to see it,” Sharp said.

Linda brushed her dark hair aside—it was no longer pinned up with Excalibur—and leaned forward. “I think it was Hannah who killed Dick. She shot him so she'd inherit all her dad's money. It's perfect motivation.”

“But you said last time that Hannah and Dick loved each other,” Sharp said.

Linda was unmoved. “What is love when we're talking about millions of dollars? I mean, you guys know what makes the world go round. It sure ain't love, come on. It's cash and sex—that's it, nothing else matters. And if you don't have one, you can't get the other.”

“Linda,” Riles said, “you have known Mary and Hannah all your life, right?”

Linda sat back, seemingly hurt that they weren't interested in her theories.

“Yeah,” she said carefully. “But I wouldn’t help them kill someone, if that’s what you're saying.”

“I'm not implying that you would,” Riles said politely. “I was just wondering if, as you girls grew up together, you had any favorite hiding places out of town that you'd go? Say, when you were eight to twelve. Places you used to ride to on your bikes?”

Linda made a face. “What a weird question. I mean, we all had bikes and liked to ride everywhere. Hannah didn't kill her brother because he had a bike and she didn't. She had one, too. It was a green Schwinn mountain bike, totally radical.”

Riles smiled. “I know you're right about that. But if you could humor me for a moment, where did you girls like to go when you wanted to get away from everything?”

Linda suddenly clapped her hands together. “I know what you’re asking! You want to know where they might have dumped Charlie’s body!”

Riles nodded. “That's it exactly.”

Linda thought real hard. “Hannah and me used to go to this deserted farm sometimes. It's not that far from here, a few miles out on the road to Whistler.”

Both cops sat up straight.

“Can you give us exact directions?” Riles asked.

“Sure.” And Linda did give them directions, several versions of them. After about ten minutes and many questions they basically knew how to get to the farm. When she was done Linda wanted to know if they thought she’d be interviewed on TV.

“Probably,” Riles said. “You're obviously important to this case.”

Linda smiled. “Cool.” Then she stopped smiling. “Oh, I forgot to tell you guys something. It’s real important, I don’t know how I could have forgot.”

“What?” Sharp asked.

“I thought I saw Charlie.”

“
What?
” they both said.

Linda was unsure. “I couldn’t swear it was him, but it sure looked like him.”

“When and where do you think you saw him?” Riles asked quietly.

Linda shrugged. “This morning, wandering down the middle of the street. I didn't get a good look at him. It might have been somebody else.”

“Didn't you stop to make sure who it was?” Sharp asked.

Linda took a bite of her doughnut. “No. I was too busy.”

“What were you doing?” Riles asked.

Linda chewed. “Stuff.”

In the snow at the deserted farm that Linda said was a favorite childhood haunt of Hannah's, they found fresh tire tracks in the snow. Two sets actually, both from the same car. Sharp and Riles studied them carefully, crouched together a few feet from a stone well.

“These look like the treads on Mary’s tires,” Riles said. “The same tires near the two puddles of blood.”

“Are you sure?” Sharp asked.

“Pretty damn sure.”

Sharp glanced at the well. “Do you think they dumped Charlie in there?”

“I think that's more likely than the possibility that Charlie was walking around town this morning.”

They stood and walked over to the well and peered down into it. The well seemed to swallow the faint sound of their breathing, a tunnel into perpetual night. Far below, maybe fifty feet, they could hear running water.

“If they threw him in here he's gone,” Sharp said.

“I'm not so sure about that. I've been out here before. I think the underground stream comes out somewhere.”

“Where?”

Riles frowned. “I can't remember.”

“You've been spending too much time with Linda Hoppe.”

“I believe it. Let's check out the barn.”

The bam was empty.

Except for footprints in the dust, and some red stuff in the corner. Excited, they hurried toward the latter but their excitement faded when Riles touched one drop of it and rolled it slowly between his fingers. He sniffed the red gook.

“Catsup,” he said.

Sharp was deflated. “Damn.”

Riles studied a nearby set of footprints. “Mary's New Balance running shoes.” He pointed deeper into the corner. “Hannah's Nike walking shoes.”

“Tell me, how can you tell what’s a walking shoe and what's a running shoe?”

“Experience.” Riles added, “I sold sports shoes to put myself through college.”

“I didn't know that.”

“It was only a part time job,” Riles said.

“No. I didn’t know you went to college. I'll have to treat you with more respect.” Sharp nodded to the catsup on Riles’s fingers. “If only that belonged to Charlie, we’d have a stronger case against the girls.”

Riles stared at the red stuff. “But it fooled you for a second, didn’t it?”

“Yeah. Didn’t it fool you?”

“Yes. For a moment.” Riles studied the prints some more. “I wonder if it fooled someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why is there catsup here?” Riles asked. “I think that's the important question.”

Sharp was doubtful. “You might be reading too much into it. Somebody probably just sat here and ate fries.”

“No. This catsup is fresh. In fact, in this cold, it should be frozen and it’s not.”

“I’m not following you,” Sharp admitted.

“Catsup is one of the few substances people have on hand that can look like blood. I wonder if one of the girls used it on the other girl to fake her out. Or rather, I wonder if one of the girls used it on
herself
to fake the other out.”

Sharp nodded. “To fake the fact that she was bleeding.”

“Exactly.”

“It sounds like you're reaching again.”

Riles stood. “I want to go see the girls again. Now.”

Sharp got up. “We have no right to question them so soon after their release.”

Riles felt another chill, that came, not from outside but from inside himself.

He kept thinking how cold Hannah was. How smart.

“We'll tell them it’s a social call,” Riles said, turning for the barn door.

Sharp followed. “Whose house should we visit first?”

“Were Mary’s parents home when we released her?”

“I understood they had a few hours left to drive before they reached Maple.”

“Then we go to Mary's,” Riles said.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

At Mary Dammon’s house, in her bedroom where she first made love to Charles Gallagher, Mary sat on her bed beside Charlie. He was naked and asleep under the covers. She'd had trouble getting him inside the house and then even more trouble getting his clothes off. It was only now, finally, after running a portable electric heater on him for an hour, that he began to feel warm. She had already bandaged his chest wound. Gently she brushed his hair as she gazed at his handsome face. She wished that he would wake up soon so that she could tell him how much she loved him.

“I do, you know,” she whispered. “Even though I almost got you killed.”

Charlie opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

“Did you say something?” he croaked.

“Oh, Charlie!” she cried, burying her face in his chest.

He groaned. “That hurts.”

She remembered his injury. “Sorry. How are you feeling?”

He was sleepy. “Good. Where am I?”

“My bedroom. You’re safe now.”

“From what?”

She took his hand and leaned close. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

He thought for a moment. “No.”

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“We were at the Crossroads. You were there. You said you were sorry.”

She smiled through her tears. “You said you were sorry, too. Do you remember?”

He yawned. “Yes.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yes.” He yawned loudly. “I love you, Mary.”

Then his eyes closed. He was snoring again. She kissed him on the forehead. “I love you more than I realized, Charlie.”

Mary stood and quietly left the bedroom.

Hannah was sitting in Mary's living room in fresh warm clothes. She lifted her hand and there was a revolver in it. The one Mary had thrown into the bushes after killing Hannah.

“Oh,” Mary said, freezing.

Hannah waved the gun. “Sit down.”

Mary sat in a chair across from her. She was beyond shock.

“How?” Mary gasped.

Hannah did not smile. “Blanks. In Harvey's, just before Charlie turned up, you let it slip that you knew how many shots Dick had fired. I knew then that you knew I was the killer. I knew you’d go for my gun when you had the chance. When we stopped at Charlie’s truck, before we went back out to the farm, I loaded it with blanks. I had bought the blanks before, to show Dick.” She cocked the hammer. “But I have live rounds with me now in case you’re wondering.”

Mary swallowed. “I was not wondering.”

Hannah glanced around. “When do your parents get home?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“I don’t know.”

Hannah considered. “It doesn’t matter. We won’t be here long. What are you looking at?”

“A ghost. Why the big emotional display at the farm?”

Hannah was reflective. “To see if you could be moved.” She held her eye. “To see if you cared.”

“Why should I care about a murderer?”

Hannah drew in a ragged breath. “You shot me, Mary. How could you do that to me?”

“I enjoyed it. Give me the gun and I'll shoot you again.”

Hannah's expression darkened. “I'm going to kill you, both of you. You must know.”

“Then I'll be the one who fled the scene because of her guilt?”

“Yes. I have it all planned. When you vanish, the cops will stop hassling me.”

“I'm not going anywhere. You’re going to have to shoot me here. And I'm sure I’ll bleed a lot. I'll make a point of it before I die. My parents really are on their way home. You won't be able to clean up the mess before they arrive. No one, especially the cops, will think I left town because of guilt.” Mary paused. “So you see you don't have it all planned after all.”

Hannah sat up. “I can make you move.”

Mary shook her head. “Nope. Even if you threaten to shoot Charlie, I won't budge from this chair. Go ahead he's in the bedroom. Put the gun to his head and threaten me. Better yet put the barrel of your gun in my mouth like they do on TV and try to scare me big time.”

Hannah was bitter. “I only wanted your love. Was that too much to ask?”

“Yeah. You're gay and I'm not. Killing your brother didn't change that. Also, before you get started, don't try pulling that poor lonely homosexual routine on me. You did not murder your brother because you're gay. I know lots of wonderful well-balanced lesbians. You killed him because you’re a loon. It's as simple as that.”

Hannah had tears. “And why did you try to kill me?”

“Stupid question. You deserved it.”

Hannah stood and pointed the revolver down at her. “I pull this trigger and a bullet goes in your heart. Like that, you no longer exist on this planet. You know I'm fully capable of doing it. I’m not bluffing.”

Mary sighed, and she was terribly afraid. But she knew she couldn’t show the fear. “Even if you put a bullet in my heart, it won't make room in there for you,” Mary said.