Murder in the Devil's Cauldron (3 page)

When she finally reached the top, Fae found
an empty bench with a good view of the Duluth Harbor. She pulled
her inflatable donut out of her bag, placed it on the bench and
then sat on it. It wasn't elegant, but made sitting on hard
surfaces a little easier. Besides, she'd gotten over elegant a long
time ago. She carried all her necessities in a canvas bag that read
"Well behaved women seldom make history" and which made her smile
every time she looked at it.

A few minutes later, she saw Bailey reach the
top of the steps and stop to catch his breath. His jacket was off
and his tie had been loosened so much that the knot barely kept it
from flying away. He mopped his forehead with the sleeve of his
shirt and then looked around. Fae grinned. At least she wasn't the
only one who was out of shape. He returned her smile as he came
over and plopped down on the bench next to her.

"Good god, Fae," he said. "Why the hell did
you want to meet up here? Are you trying to kill me?"

"It'll do you good," she replied tartly. "You
get less exercise than my cat."

"How the hell did
you
get up here?" he
asked, looking at her sharply. "There's no way you climbed that
hill."

"Oh yes I did. What you don't see is all the
drugs I took to make it possible." She grimaced. "Probably wasn't a
good idea. But you know me. I always think I can do more than is
possible and then live to wish I hadn't."

"Hah." He shook his head. "Tomorrow I'll
probably wish I hadn't agreed to meet up here. I'm too old for
this."

"When's the last time you were up here?"

"God." He looked at the horizon, thinking.
"Had to have been when I was a kid and we came up for a camping
trip. My folks were always going somewhere in a car full of kids, a
tent and camping gear tied to the roof. I probably thought it was
fun then."

"Funny how things change when you get old and
stiff," Fae grinned. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'm
already wishing for a nice long soak in a very hot tub."

"Serve you right, too." He looked out over
the harbor. "Still, it's a great view once you survive the
climb."

"It certainly is. And it's unlikely anyone we
know will see us here, either."

He nodded. "There is that. And if anyone
does, all they have to do is look at that get-up you're in, and
they'll think anything but investigator."

Fae grinned. She had deliberately worn her
wildest outfit to this meeting. Partly because of Bailey's request
for secrecy, but partly for sheer fun. It was comfortable, but more
importantly, it was who she was when she wasn't working. After the
accident, somehow that had become a lot more important than
before.

"So what's this all about?" Fae asked. "It's
a bit cloak and dagger, even for you."

He sighed. "How possible would it be for you
to do a very quiet investigation for me."

"As in ..."

"You report only to me. You don't talk to
anyone else in the office about it. And are you up to returning to
work?"

She looked at him hard, then back at the
view. "I can probably manage it. The pain gets pretty bad
sometimes, but I can work around it. Especially if it's important.
But why don't you want anyone else to know?"

"I don't know if this guy has ESP, he's as
lucky as hell, or if there's a leak," Bailey told her. "Every time
we've gotten close to him, he turns into smoke and we have to start
over. Now it looks like he's resurfaced and I'd very much like to
nail his ass to the barn door with a very long spike."

"Very bad guy then."

"Very. But not the way you probably think."
His expression was speculative. "Did you ever see
The
Sting
?"

"The movie?"

"Yeah."

"Who didn't."

"Like it?"

"Loved it. Saw it three or four times and
bought a copy. It's great."

"Liked the characters?"

"You mean Newman and Redford?"

"They played a couple of con men," Bailey
said. "Newman played Henry Gondorf. Who was real, by the way.
Redford's character was fictional. Both very likeable. Loveable
even. Ran a con against a bad guy. A really bad guy. So everyone
cheered for the con men. Great ending. Won a bunch of awards. Great
picture."

Fae looked at him, suspicious. "So why do I
get this very odd feeling that you have a slightly different
view?"

"Because everyone liked the con men," he said
flatly. "Likeable. No one got hurt except the bad guy who deserved
it." He was quiet for a long time. "People have this perception
that con men are fun and no one gets hurt. After all, that's how it
is in the movies and on TV. Problem is, con men are despicable. No.
More than that. They're scum. People
do
get hurt. In a way,
it's almost worse than murder, because the victims have to live
with the betrayal, the violation, and years of aggravation. Cons
destroy faith and trust. The cynicism and distrust they create is
worse for our society than just about anything. Killers have their
guns in plain sight. But con men? They smile in your face and stab
you in the back. They're sneaks, cowards and prey on the goodness
of other people. They're like a social form of AIDS. And when they
go after old people who are sitting ducks for their scams, it makes
me want to skin them alive."

Fae stared at him, stunned at the venom in
his voice. "I guess I never thought about it like that," she said
finally.

"Who does?" he said bitterly. "Until someone
you know gets fleeced and their lives are destroyed. Then suddenly
you get a different perspective. But how many people are close to a
victim of a con man? Not to mention the people who were taken and
are too ashamed to tell anyone."

"Who did you know?" she asked.

"An elderly couple in Anoka. George and
Angela Williams. Took them for everything they had. Which wasn't
much. They were old school people, you know? Believed in the
goodness of other people. Believed in old fashioned values like
trust and decency. Bottom line? They were in their eighties. Worked
hard their entire lives and should have been enjoying their
retirement and their grandchildren. Then this guy came along and
destroyed them." He turned to face Fae. "And all because they
wanted to help him."

Fae waited as Bailey stared out over Lake
Superior.

"I grew up just a few doors down the street,"
he said finally. "Mowed their lawn. Hung out with their kids. The
nicest people you'd ever want to meet. Mrs. Williams always seemed
to have fresh baked cookies and Mr. Williams always had time to
explain things or just plain listen. The original Minnesota
Nice."

He stared down at his hands. "They killed
themselves. Couldn't live with the disgrace. What they didn't
expect was that their eight year old granddaughter would find them
first."

"Oh geez." Fae felt as if all her breath had
been knocked out of her. "So who is this guy and what do you want
me to do?"

"We're not sure what his real name is, but he
has a number of aliases we've tied together. One of them is Ricky
Bakken."

"As in Ollie? The goalie?"

He snorted. "Can you believe that? And he
used it at a motel on the North Shore."

"Ahh, I'm beginning to get a glimmer."

"Stayed at the Bide-A-Wee a few weeks ago.
Harry Peterson's the owner and went to school with Ollie. Knew
Ollie didn't have a brother."

"I can't believe he'd use that name up
here."

"Thank god he did. It's his first real slip
and may help us catch him finally."

"So you want me to talk to Harry. Maybe nose
around. See if maybe this guy is up to something in my neck of the
woods?"

"Exactly."

"Why me?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It's your neck of the
woods."

Fae wasn't fooled. "And?"

He gave her a humorless smile. "He doesn't
know you. He doesn't even know
about
you. Also, you're still
officially on leave. At this point, only one other person even
knows about the tip. So no one even knows we might be onto him. If
someone at the BCA
is
leaking information, they'll have
nothing to leak. So the chances are good you'll be able to get
somewhere without him tipping to it."

"I see."

"Just remember, this guy is very smart,"
Bailey said. "More importantly, he has street smarts and seems to
be able to smell us coming. I'm hoping that this time we may be
able to circumvent that just a little."

"So how do I get the file?"

"I have them in my car."

She laughed. "Of course you do. Why am I not
surprised?" She thought about it for a few minutes. She hadn't
thought seriously about a case since the accident and still felt as
if her brain had turned to cottage cheese. "So what's not in the
file?"

"I put a folder with my notes in there for
you. It's not official and has nothing to do with evidence or
admissibility or anything we can actually use. It's mostly
observations, suspicions, rumors and that sort of thing. Some of it
may be helpful." He stood up and held out his hand.

Fae took it and lurched to her feet. "It
takes a minute to get moving again," she told him as she packed up
her cushion.

"How long's it going to take?" he asked.

"Before I'm back to normal?"

He nodded.

"Maybe never," she said. "But now that I'm
starting to get around on my own steam, I figure I'll be pretty
close in a few months. Given everything, I'm pretty happy with
that."

"Need any help down?"

"I won't say no to a strong arm," she smiled.
"Those stairs are a bitch."

Once they reached the bottom, Fae opened the
trunk of her hatchback while Bailey carted over several boxes. Once
everything was transferred, he handed her his card.

"My home number is on the back and I think
you have my direct line."

"I do."

"Any time," he said. "I don't care if it's
three a.m. If you have anything, even if it's just a question, I
want you to call me."

"What's why you're the boss and they pay you
the big bucks," she joked.

He laughed. "Right."

Starr couldn't believe how quickly they got
everything out of their car and into the cabin. When they were
packing it back in Minneapolis, it had felt like she had made at
least a million trips to the car with boxes and shopping bags full
of what her mother considered the essentials until their old
station wagon had been crammed to the breaking point. Yet once they
started taking things out, it had emptied quickly and, as Starr
carried the last suitcase in, the cabin still seemed nearly empty,
as if they hadn't brought anything at all.

She dragged the suitcase into her room and
put it down on her bed, only then allowing herself to look around,
still unable to believe this was all hers. She'd had to sleep on
the living room couch at their last two places because a two
bedroom apartment was way out of their budget, so having her own
room, let alone something like this, felt as if she had just won
first prize at the State Fair for her photography.

Starr looked over her shoulder at the doorway
just to make sure her mom wasn't there, then walked over to the
window to see what was out there. She knew she was supposed to be
unpacking, but reasoned that she was just going to take a minute to
look first. Just one minute. What could that hurt? But as she
peered out the window, she heard her mother calling her.

"Oh pooh," she muttered as she turned away
from the window.

"Stella!"

Starr rolled her eyes and went into the
living room. It was dim in here because the trees around the cabin
blocked out most of the sun. She stopped briefly while her eyes
adjusted and it was a minute before she saw her mother standing on
the little porch out front.

"My name is Starr," she reminded her mother
as she came out onto the porch.

"Stella is a perfectly good name," her mother
said. "It was my aunt's name and her aunt's name."

"Yeah, but I'll bet they didn't have all the
kids at school bellowing it like they're all Brando wannabees,
either."

"Then maybe you should come when I call you
the first time," her mother spat. "You're just like your father.
God knows you're just as stubborn and contrary." She stepped off
the porch. "I have to go up to the Lodge for a bit. Finish
unpacking while I'm gone. I'll come get you for dinner. If you're
done before I get back you can explore, but stay away from the
guests. I don't want to hear you've been bothering them." She
glared at Starr, eyes narrowing. "Probably better if you don't go
far. If you go anywhere, be back before five."

"OK."

"And another thing." She paused, massaging
her forehead as if she had a headache. "Make sure you lock the
door. I don't want to come back and find out any yahoo off the
street can just step on in. I don't care if we're not in the Cities
any more. You never can tell who will pull in off the highway and
just decide to come on in. You got that?"

Starr nodded. "I will."

"Be sure you do," her mother added. "I don't
want any problems here. Especially for the next few months." She
glared at Starr just long enough to make her uncomfortable, then
strode up the path towards Storm Point Lodge.

Starr watched her mother walk away, waiting
until she was sure she was gone before looking around. It was the
first chance she'd had to see her new neighborhood. In the past, it
hadn't mattered a whole lot because each new place was pretty much
like the last. All of them ugly and not very interesting.

This place, though, was so different from
anything she had ever experienced that Starr couldn't figure out
where to start. The first thing she noticed was how quiet it was.
She could sort of hear cars driving past on the highway. But it was
a far away sound from the other side of the trees and a big hill
and was more like a quiet swoosh, swoosh, brrrr. Most of what she
could hear were things that didn't even exist in Minneapolis.
Scratching sounds in the trees and the rolling sound of the lake
were just some of the new noises. Plus there were other sounds she
couldn't even begin to identify yet.