Murder Miscalculated (20 page)

Fortunately, Cochran showed up and flashed his FBI badge. That got their attention. One of them went outside and spoke into his radio for a minute, then came back inside.

“We’re supposed to just hang tight until Sergeant Green arrives.”

I was disappointed that Mel wouldn’t be taking charge of the mess. Barbara joined us about that time, resplendent in a woolen bathrobe of patchwork colors. Her hair was down from her braids, and she looked like I’d always imagined Eleanor, the Dowager Queen, would look.

She offered the two policemen some tea, but they declined.

“Some coffee perhaps? I expect you work fairly late into the night.” If it weren’t for the mischievous sparkle in her eye, I would have bought the part she was playing for them.

They had no problem buying her act, though. “No thank you, Ma’am,” said the one who had radioed in and appeared to be senior to his fellow. “Perhaps you and the others would like to wait somewhere?”

Barbara smiled. “No, thank you,” she answered. She walked over to one of the easy chairs and sat down, pulling her feet up under her. “I’m quite comfortable.”

Lynn took the chair next to Barbara and sat in a similar fashion. She gave me a sly smile.

“You know, Kid. Some tea would be nice. Why don’t you fetch some for Barbara and me, please?”

I sighed. Joey was right, no denying it. I turned to Cochran. “Do you want tea, too?”

He shook his head with a smile.

I went out into the kitchen and began filling the ancient water kettle. Someone gets shot in my store, police are everywhere, an FBI agent is underfoot, and what do I do? I put the kettle on for tea.

When Sgt. Green showed up, his name clicked into place. Evidently he recognized Cochran and me,  as well. His toothpick moved from one side of his mouth to the other as he regarded us.

“You two again? I remember you from last year.” He studied Cochran’s identity card for a second and handed it back, then turned to me. “You a fed, too?”

I explained that Lynn and I owned the store.

“Whatever. So what’s the story you’re going to tell me?”

I proceeded to tell him how someone had tried to hold up the store and how Max had come to my rescue. I pointed to Jeremy’s little automatic on the floor where he had dropped it.

“We haven’t touched the gun.”

The toothpick switched sides again. “Gee, thanks.” He told one of the cops to put the gun in an evidence bag. He told the other to find the ejected shell. We all watched in silence as the officer shined his flashlight around the floor until its brass casing glowed back in response.

“Got it,” he said as he dropped it into a small plastic bag.

Sgt. Green accepted both the gun and the shell and sent the uniformed cops on their way. He spent a few more minutes asking routine questions, then worked his toothpick and said goodbye. He turned back as he opened door.

“I’ll visit your friend at the hospital in the morning. If you do think of anything you’d like to share with a lowly sergeant, let me know, won’t you?”

Cochran and I promised we would, but he gave no sign he heard us as he left.

Once he was gone we all trooped to the back room, where we gathered as usual around the table.

“So what really happened?” asked Cochran.

I let Lynn tell the story.

“Well,” said Cochran after she was done, “it looks as if Doris Whitaker is still after you, Kid. That’s not good.” A wry smile came to his face. “It’s not like my staying here did much good to keep her crew away. Short of shutting down the store and Lynn’s studio, I don’t know what else to suggest.”

“We could close up for a few weeks,” I suggested. “Maybe all this will blow over by then.”

Barbara’s teacup clattered on its saucer as she put it down.

“Kid!” she said sharply. “I’m surprised at you.”

We all looked at her. Even in the dim light of the kitchen her eyes were bright.

“This store has been open since the sixties. We were here through the civil rights marches and the riots after dear Doctor King’s assassination. We were proudly in the middle of the anti-war movement and protests. Women’s rights, gay rights, there isn’t a righteous cause we weren’t part of.” She lowered her voice. “And I’ll be damned if I see this store close because of a cheap hoodlum like Doris Whitaker.”

Barbara peered at Cochran. “What’s keeping you from locking her up for good? Personally, I’m tired of that woman. I didn’t like her half a century ago when she was working badger games, and I certainly don’t like her now. Lock her up, why don’t you?”

Cochran struggled for an answer. “It’s not that easy, Barbara. The DA will need a good witness, someone who has personally dealt with her and would be willing to testify against her. She’s done too good a job of protecting herself with her crew.”

An idea came to me. “Cochran,” I said. “I think I know just the person they need.”

“You do?”

“Could you get him into the witness protection program?”

Cochran nodded. “It’s possible, if his testimony is good enough.”

“Could he pick where he’s relocated to?”

“Within reason.”

I smiled. This just might work.

After breakfast the next morning Cochran and I headed out. I took him down to City Center, where we bought coffee from a sidewalk vendor and watched the mid-morning crowd. I kept looking and watching until I found the guy I wanted. As instructed, Cochran hung back, following me at a distance as I approached our man.

Jay glanced up as my shadow reached him. He was perched on a low wall of white cement near the center of the plaza. His normally cheerful face showed concern when he recognized me, and he looked around nervously.

“Hey, Kid,” he said quietly as I sat next to him. “I hear Doris is on the warpath for you. I warned you about her. It’s like she’s gone crazy.”

“Yeah, she sent one of her boys to my bookshop last night.”

Jay’s eyebrows went up.

“He took a shot at me but got a friend of mine instead.” I looked Jay in the eye. “Now I’m on the warpath, if you get my meaning.”

Jay started to get up. I stuck my arm out and held him in place. A second later Cochran joined us, sitting next to him on the other side.

Jay’s eyes darted from me to Cochran and back to me again. “What’s going on, Kid?” There was a note of panic in his voice. I kept my arm in place but tried to reassure him.

“Don’t worry, Jay. It’s nothing you won’t like. In fact, this gentleman here,” I nodded to Cochran, “just might be able to make your fondest wish come true.”

Jay stared at me as though I was crazy.

I continued. “You remember telling me about how you and Dave want to quit the fencing business and move to Key West?”

Jay gave an uncertain nod.

“Well, then today is your lucky day.”

“What? How?” Jay’s voice trailed off into sputters.

“Jay,” I said, “this is Agent Cochran of the FBI. Let’s sit here a little while so you can hear what he has to offer you.”

Jay swallowed. Cochran began talking.

It took a lot longer than I expected, as Jay’s fear of Doris was enormous. But the lure of being able to start a new life with new names in Key West for him and his partner Dave was too much for him to resist.

An hour later we left the plaza. I was headed back to The Book Nook, and Jay and Cochran were headed for the federal building. An agent was already on his way to pick up Dave at their apartment. Cochran didn’t want to give Doris any chance of causing trouble.

“Wait!” Jay stopped walking before they were more than a few feet away. “What about our things?”

“We’ll have a team over there within an hour and pack it all up for you,” Cochran assured him.

“But what about Lily?”

“Lily is Jay and Dave’s dog,” I explained.

“Is she very big?” Cochran asked. “Will she cause them trouble?”

Jay was offended. “Lily is the sweetest little dog in the world.”

“Then don’t worry. They’ll bring Lily to the federal building.”

“Tell them to bring a muzzle,” I told Cochran in a whisper so Jay wouldn’t hear me malign his dog. “Lily is small, but she’s a demon.”

They walked off together, and I stopped and watched them. If all went well, I’d never see Jay again. I thought about that phrase,
if all goes well.
Cochran had used it only a few minutes ago as he explained to Jay the wonderful world inside the witness protection program.

He certainly made it sound easy.

There was a message on the store’s answering machine when I returned. I had a pen and paper ready to take a request to find a book, but I put the pen down when I heard the precise, flat voice on the other end.

“Mr. Smith? This is Metcalf. I’ve got something I believe you and Agent Cochran have been looking for. It’s the missing memory card. I’ve already called Agent Cochran. He’s coming to my hotel suite. He suggested I invite you, as well, though I don’t really see why.”

The guy was condescending even when leaving a message. What he didn’t realize was that I might not have gone had he not added that dig. My work was really beginning to stack up at the store. I put my jacket back on as Lynn came out from the back room.

“Where are you going? I thought you were going to try to get the ordering done today.”

I told her of Metcalf’s call and Cochran’s request that I join them. Lynn disappeared into the back room for a few seconds and then returned, putting on her own coat. Seconds after that Joey followed, wearing his black leather jacket.

I put my hands on my hips. “You don’t have to go.”

Lynn ignored me and picked up her purse.

I looked at Joey. He started to explain, but I cut him off. “Yes, I know, where Lynn goes, you go. Okay, let’s all go.”

We walked the half-dozen blocks, fighting the rush hour crowds all the way. The elevator operator raised his eyebrows when he saw I had company but didn’t object. He took us to the penthouse floor and let us out. “Mr. Metcalf said to let you find the door yourself.” He appeared miffed at this breach of protocol.

“I know the door, thank you.” I told him.

He still looked doubtful but pressed his gloved finger to a button, and the doors slid closed.

“This way,” I told Lynn and Joey, and we headed down the hallway. I knocked on the door.

“Come in,” called Cochran. His voice was faint. I opened the door, and we went inside. Cochran and Metcalf were nowhere in sight.

“Kid, is that you?” called Cochran. “We’re out here on the patio.”

The curtains to the windows were drawn, but one billowed where the open patio door was. We crossed the large living room of the suite and pushed through the curtains.

It’s odd, but I could smell death before I saw the body. Perhaps it was the trace of gunpowder in the air. I saw a man’s body lying near the center of the patio. He lay on his back, and bloody bullet wounds marked where he had been shot in the heart. It was Newcomb, the deadly and expensive hit man.

Metcalf sat in a chair next to a patio table about ten feet away. He rested his head on one hand. He gave us a disinterested look as we emerged onto the patio. A gun lay on the table.

Cochran was speaking on his cell phone near the sliding door. He held up a hand to forestall questions, finished his conversation and hung up. He put his cell phone back into his pocket.

“Looks like you guys came up for nothing,” he said. “Any meeting will have to wait until the police arrive and clear the scene.”

“What happened?” asked Lynn.

“That’s Newcomb, the hit man hired by Wolfe, isn’t it?” I asked.

Cochran nodded. “That’s him. He’s dead.”

“You shot him?” I asked. “What was he doing here?”

Cochran shook his head and pointed over at Metcalf.

“No, Metcalf shot him just as I arrived. I heard the shots from outside in the hall.” He glanced over at Metcalf and lowered his voice. “He says Newcomb arrived about half an hour ago, right after he called to let me know he had the memory card. He was outside on the patio when Newcomb came out there. He doesn’t know how Newcomb got into the suite, but you and I know it isn’t that difficult if you’re a professional.”

I didn’t like being lumped in with a professional killer but couldn’t argue the point.

Cochran continued. “To tell the truth, I don’t know if Newcomb was here to kill Metcalf or not. I kind of doubt it. But Metcalf had a gun in the pocket of that robe he’s wearing. That’s it on the table next to him. He figured Wolfe had decided to get rid of him, and he shot Newcomb without waiting to see if it was true.”

Metcalf must have been listening, as he spoke up when Cochran finished telling us what had happened. His voice was a hollow echo of its former self.

“I’ve never seen anyone die before like that, let alone kill someone. It’s like it was someone else pulling the trigger. I can’t believe I did it.” He raised his head. “I know it’s rude, but could someone bring me a drink? There’s some brandy in the bar inside.”

Metcalf was one of those people who expect others to do as they ask, and Joey was one of those who do it. “I’ll get it,” he said and brushed back the curtains and went into the suite’s living room.

I marveled at Joey’s willingness to follow orders and at Metcalf’s ability to give them. As I did, a flash of clarity hit me. In the space of a moment the events of the past week clicked into place, and I saw the whole sorry story unfold in my mind.

“And the data card,” I asked, “where is that?”

My question took Cochran by surprise. “Kid, given the circumstances, I think that can wait, don’t you?”

I shook my head. “No, Cochran, I don’t think it can.”

Lynn and Cochran stared at me. Behind me in the living room, Joey clattered glasses and bottles.

The patio was as it had been the other day with the afternoon sun streaming from behind tall surrounding buildings, traffic sounds rising from the street and birds overhead. It was as though everything had stopped. I took a breath and plunged in.