The Sixth Man (13 page)

Bunting focused on Roy again. “Edgar, your country needs you. Do you understand that? We can make this all work out okay for you. But we need your cooperation. Do you get that?”

Black dots. Nothing else.

Bunting persisted. “I believe that you can understand me. And I need you to think very carefully how you want this all to turn out, okay? We have a window of opportunity. But that window can’t remain open forever.”

A face of stone looked back at him.

After a few more attempts Bunting sighed, rose, and left. As he and Avery walked down the hall Avery said, “Sir, what if he did kill those people?”

“I’ve got over three hundred million
people
to protect. And I need Edgar Roy to do it.”

M
ICHELLE SAT ACROSS
from Sean in his bedroom. They’d filled each other in on events.

“Megan’s probably scared to death,” said Michelle.

“She’s got guts. As they were leaving, she told Murdock that she knew her rights and that he couldn’t push her around.”

“Good for her.”

“But then she started to tear up and got the hiccups. I think Murdock might have sensed that as a sign of weakness.”

“Right,” said Michelle in a disappointed tone. “So what now?”

“We struck out with Roy. We can’t really investigate Ted’s murder because Murdock won’t let us near anything.”

“So we investigate something else pertinent to the matter? Like is Edgar Roy guilty or not?”

Sean nodded. “And also why does a guy like him garner so much attention from the Feds? Granted he might be a serial killer, but there, unfortunately, are lots of serial killers. They don’t warrant late-night chopper rides and this kind of full-court press.”

“I think we need to look at what he was actually doing at the government.”

“Ted told me he worked at the IRS.”

“So we head back to Virginia?”

“We need to take care of Megan first. And we need to find out who retained Ted Bergin.”

“Seems like an attorney would check in with the paying client when he’s about to talk to the defendant.”

“Dobkin told you he only talked to Megan and Cutter’s. What about e-mails?”

“Dobkin didn’t mention any. A guy Bergin’s age might not be into smartphone e-mailing anyway.”

“Maybe not. But you’re right. He must be in contact with the client in some way.”

“Do you remember from the media reports whether Roy had family? If so, they might be the ones who hired Bergin.”

He said, “I recall reading that his parents were dead. I don’t remember the mention of any siblings. We’ll have to run it down some other way.” He opened his notepad and began scribbling. “Okay, Bergin’s investigation is closed off for now. We track down Roy’s background, the client, and then we need to get to the obvious point.”

“Namely, did Roy kill those people?” replied Michelle. “That’s what it comes down to. Which means we have to poke our nose into that investigation, too.”

“We were always going to do that anyway,” he pointed out. “But under discovery laws the prosecution has to provide the defense with all the evidence.”

“Can we poke around at the crime scene, too?”

“I think it would be malpractice if we didn’t.”

“Do you think Roy is faking it? I’ve seen guys do that zombie routine before when I was a cop. Especially if they’re staring at the death penalty.”

“If he is, he’s damn good at it.”

“Maybe he is drugged up.”

“I don’t know what purpose is served by the government keeping an accused killer drugged up so he can’t stand trial.”

“Okay, when do you want to leave for Virginia?”

“I told Megan to call me when the Feds were done with her.”

“Considering Murdock will try to screw us at every turn, it might be a while before she surfaces. Can we afford to wait for that?”

He looked at her. “What do you have in mind?”

“How do you know I have anything in mind?”

“We’re an old married couple, remember? Or at least we act like one.”

“Don’t start finishing my sentences. You could get badly hurt.”

“So?” he said expectantly.

“So maybe I head to Virginia and start looking into the murders down there and Roy’s connection to the Feds while you stay up here, wait for them to kick Megan loose. And maybe you go back to Cutter’s Rock again, this time with Megan, and dig up what you can on Bergin’s murder. Then we rendezvous and compare notes in the near future.”

He smiled. “What about you taking care of me?”

“So put on your big-boy pants and suck it up.”

“So we divide and conquer.”

“Or cut our strength in half.” She handed him her gun. “You better keep this.”

“I don’t have a permit.”

“Better they arrest you for not having a permit than my identifying your body because you didn’t have a gun.”

“I get the point. But what about you?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll stop by my apartment and grab a spare.”

“How many guns do you have?”

“Neither one more nor one less than I need.”

He took the gun.

S
EAN DROVE THROUGH
the night and dropped Michelle off at the airport in Bangor, where she boarded a seven a.m. flight. After switching to another plane in Philadelphia, she reached Virginia a few minutes before noon. She’d slept soundly on both flights and felt recharged when she touched down at Dulles Airport. She picked up her Toyota from the parking garage, drove home, packed another bag, grabbed a spare pistol, and drove to the office. She checked messages and mail, packed a few more things, looked up some addresses, made some calls, and headed to Charlottesville. She got to town around four that afternoon and drove directly to Ted Bergin’s law office, which was located in a business complex near the Boar’s Head Inn and Resort.

It was on the first floor of a clapboard-sided building painted white with green shutters and a black door. It had a simple arrangement: reception area, two offices, a conference room, and a small kitchen and workspace area in the back. As was her habit, Michelle scouted out and noted the rear exit on the other side of the building.

Michelle was greeted by a woman in her sixties wearing a pale-blue blouse with a ruffled collar, black skirt, and black heels. Her hair was bottle blond and starting to thin from one perm too many. She had puffy eyes and reddened cheeks. Michelle assumed this was Hilary Cunningham and was proven right when the woman introduced herself. After offering condolences about her unfortunate boss, Michelle asked to look around Bergin’s office.

“We need to track down who the client is,” she explained.

Hilary led her to Bergin’s office and then left her alone, murmuring something about burial arrangements. From the utterly
devastated look on the woman’s face Michelle wondered if their relationship had been something more than employer and employee. If so, that might be another lead they would have to run down. Bergin’s death might not stem from his representation of Edgar Roy at all. He had been Sean’s friend and law professor, but the truth was the two had not seen each other much over the last few years. There could be secrets in Bergin’s past that might explain his death, even all the way up in Maine.

Michelle closed the door to the office and sat down behind the man’s old-fashioned partners desk, running her fingers across the faded leather inlay. As she gazed around the room it seemed everything in here was old-fashioned. And solid. She closed her eyes and cast her mind back to the dead man in the car.

The diminished body. The saggy face. The hole in the head.

And the rolled-down window that had been rolled back up by the killer.

A killer Bergin might have known. If true, that could possibly cut the suspect list down substantially.

She rifled through Bergin’s desk and files. There were several litigation bags parked in a corner of the room but they were empty. No address book. There was no computer on his desk. She slipped back out to the front room and asked Hilary about that.

“Megan and I use computers, obviously, but he never cared to. Pen and paper and a Dictaphone were good enough for him.”

“And his calendar?”

“I kept an appointment calendar on the computer for him and would print out a copy every week. He also had a Daily Planner he carried with him.”

Michelle nodded. And that Daily Planner would now be in the hands of Agent Murdock. Along with the rest of Bergin’s papers.

“Do you know if he ever e-mailed or texted from his cell phone?”

“I seriously doubt he knew how. He preferred talking on the phone.”

Michelle went back to his office and noted the jar of pens and pencils and stacks of legal pads on the desk.

Definitely old-fashioned. But then there’s nothing wrong with that.

She turned her attention to the wooden file cabinets, the closet,
a trench coat that was hanging on a wall peg, and lastly a small oak credenza.

After an hour of searching she came away with nothing helpful.

She spent another hour questioning Hilary. He had not confided much to her about the Roy case, and Michelle could tell this had somewhat irked the lady.

“He’s usually very open about his cases,” Hilary said. “We worked together, after all.”

“And you do the billing?”

“Absolutely. Which made it strange why he never mentioned to me who had retained him to work for Edgar Roy. How were we to be paid, after all? I mentioned to Sean that Mr. Bergin might have taken the case pro bono, but the more I thought about it the less likely I think that is.”

“Why?”

“He has a small practice. He’s made a good income over the years, but a case like this requires a lot of time and expenses. It would have taxed his resources too much.”

“Well, it’s a high-profile case. Maybe he was doing it for the notoriety.”

Hilary made a face. “Mr. Bergin was not into notoriety. He was a very well-respected lawyer.”

“Well, maybe the client made it a condition of the retainer that he couldn’t tell anyone. Do you have bank records? There might be a deposit in there that didn’t go through you.”

Hilary clicked some keys on her computer. “We maintain an account with a local bank. All funds from the practice go in there. I have online access, so let me check.”

She looked at various screens and then shook her head. “I made every one of these deposits going back six months.”

“Might have been cash.”

“No, there are no cash deposits listed.”

“Did he keep another account?”

Hilary looked offended by even the suggestion. “If he did, he never told me about it.”

“And there’s obviously no retainer agreement in the files for the Roy case?”

“No. I already checked that.”

“But if Edgar Roy didn’t hire him, and from what I’ve seen of the man it’s highly doubtful he had the capacity to do so, someone with a power of attorney or something like that had to do it. You can’t just appoint yourself as someone’s lawyer. A court has to do that and only under certain conditions.” She stared at Hilary. “Are you sure that wasn’t the case here?”

“No. If the court had done so there would be a record of that in the file. Mr. Bergin has served as a public defender assisting indigent clients, but not in this case. And I don’t believe Mr. Roy was indigent. He had a job and a home.”

“Yeah, he’s just comatose. I’m not sure in this instance which one is worse.”

“I can’t speak to that.”

“Maybe a family member retained Bergin? Roy’s parents are dead. Any siblings? Sean couldn’t remember the media mentioning any.”

“I really didn’t get into that with Mr. Bergin,” said Hilary demurely.

“But weren’t you curious when he started representing the man? No retainer agreement? No payments?”

Hilary looked uncomfortable at this query. “I must admit that I thought it unusual. But I would never have questioned Mr. Bergin over a professional matter.”

“But it was also a business matter. A retainer agreement and getting paid for services is important, too. He’s running a business, after all, and you’re part of that business.”

“Again, I never questioned it. Mr. Bergin certainly would know what he was doing. And it was his practice after all. I… I was just his employee.”