The Edge, page 28
“Like I said, a full autopsy was not conducted. There was no need, Agent Devine. They weren’t poisoned.”
“Since you didn’t do the necessary workup, we don’t really know that for sure, do we?”
Her neutral expression devolved to a scowl. “I really don’t like what you’re implying.”
“Just stating facts. I’ll leave the implications for another time.”
“I need to get to work, so if you’ll excuse me?” She pulled back the sheet, revealing the body of an aged man.
However, Devine wasn’t finished. “So if you were in town then, were you also in Putnam when Alex was attacked? Probably, since that event and the Palmers’ deaths were only three days apart.”
“What, are you going to accuse me of sexually assaulting Alex now? Do I need an alibi? But I guess the statute of limitations has long passed.”
“Oh, so you looked that up?”
“Okay, get out. Now.”
Devine turned and left but before he shut the door he looked back at Guillaume, who was looking down at the body she had to embalm. To Devine, at the moment, it didn’t look like the woman even realized it was in front of her.
He saw Fred Bing at the front desk talking with the person there. He was dressed all in black except for his white shirt. His black tie was neatly done and his hair was slicked back.
“Funeral?” said Devine.
Bing looked over and smiled sadly. “Yes. She was in hospice. But she lived a good long life. She doesn’t have much family left in the area, so it will be a small affair, but we will do her proud.”
“I heard about your handling of Wilbur Kingman’s funeral.”
“That was so sad. Wilbur was a fine man. He and my father used to go deep-sea fishing together before my dad retired to Florida. Pat really had no money at the time for an elaborate funeral, but we made the decision to cover the costs. It was the right thing to do.”
“‘We’?”
“My sister and I. And my father called from Florida and voiced the same opinion. He actually came up for the service.” Bing looked chagrined. “Only time he’s ever been back. I guess visiting his own children isn’t a high priority.” He glanced in embarrassment at the woman at the front desk and motioned Devine over to a corner of the hall for privacy.
“What brings you here?” he asked in a hushed tone.
“I had some questions for your sister.”
“Was she helpful?” asked Bing.
“More than she probably knows. I have a question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Benjamin Bing? What can you tell me about him?”
“Ah, the lawman of the family,” he said with a grin. “Uncle Ben liked guns, liked to tell people what to do, and liked to wield power over others. He rose quickly to chief and stayed there until his retirement.”
“Which I understand he’s doing in Florida?”
“Yes.”
“Is he still alive?” asked Devine.
Bing blinked. “Um, yes. Well, as far as I know. I mean no one has told me otherwise.”
“Would they necessarily?”
“The fact is our family is not particularly close.”
“Could you make a call to your father and confirm one way or another?”
“Well, certainly, if it will help. I can’t guarantee when I might hear back. The last time I called my dad it was around a month before he texted back.”
“Whatever you can do, I would appreciate it.”
“Of course,” said Bing.
“Now, I understand that your uncle Ben has quite a nice house in Naples. And he only had the policeman’s salary I’m assuming. Your grandfather’s trust didn’t extend to him?”
Bing looked uncertain. “I suppose not. I guess I’ve never really thought about that.”
“So I was just wondering how he could afford a Naples beach house.”
“Yes, I suppose you are. I could ask my father.”
“The simplest answer would be that his two brothers gave him money to buy it.”
Bing shook his head. “My father and Uncle John are many things, Agent Devine. But generous is not one of them. And, frankly, I don’t think the two of them really like Uncle Ben. He made it clear that he thought what they did for a living was at best a joke and at worst revolting, and that he had taken a far higher road in life. He would even ticket them for illegally parking during funeral services.”
“So, he was kind of an… asshole?”
Bing laughed. “More than kind of.” His expression turned serious. “Why are you asking about all of this? I mean, if you can tell me.”
“Not right now, I can’t. So if they didn’t get along, why did he move down there with them?”
“Another good question to which I don’t have a good answer. Maybe they reconciled.”
“Okay, did your uncle Ben know the Silkwells?”
“Oh, sure. He and Senator Silkwell were good friends. Uncle Ben locked up the police vote for him. He was very involved in police union politics in Maine.”
“Did your uncle know the children well?”
“I believe Dak interviewed for a job with the police here when he got out of the military. It didn’t work out. I don’t think Dak likes to take orders,” he added with a grin.
“And the sisters?” asked Devine.
“I know he wrote a recommendation letter for Jenny when she was applying to college. And then I think he did another one when she wanted to work for the federal government.”
“And Alex?”
Now Bing looked uncomfortable. “Again, any particular reason you’re asking all this?”
“There is a reason. I just can’t share it right now.”
Bing blew air out of his mouth and rubbed at his neat hair, mussing it a bit. “Well, I’m sure they knew each other.”
“That’s it? No personal contact like he had with her siblings?”
Bing looked even more conflicted. But he finally said, “No, none that I can think of.”
Devine stared at him for so long that the other man finally dropped his gaze to his highly polished shoes.
“Let me know when you hear back from your father.”
“Yes, yes, absolutely,” said Bing hastily.
Devine left the man there.
A numb-looking Fred Bing turned and slowly walked back down the hall.
CHAPTER
59
DEVINE DROVE TO JOCELYN POINT. When Alex answered his knock he said, “You have time to help me with something?”
“Sure, what?”
“I’ll show you. It’s right down the road.”
They drove to Earl Palmer’s house while Alex looked anxiously out the window. They didn’t go to the house, but rather into Bertie’s old studio.
“Is this where it happened?” she said, looking around and nervously tugging on the yellow and gray scarf around her neck.
“Yes.”
“This place represented so many happy memories for me. And now? Bertie would be so sad that Earl…”
She wandered around and took the cover off an easel set in the corner.
“My God, I can’t believe she kept this.”
“What is it?” said Devine, walking over to join her.
“The first painting I did under Bertie’s tutelage.”
Devine took a look at it. The image was clear enough. He shot her a glance.
“It’s you. You started out with a self-portrait?”
She nodded. “Only it was Bertie’s idea.”
“What was the reasoning behind that?” asked Devine curiously.
Alex leaned against the wall, put her hands in her pockets, and stared at the painting.
“It wasn’t that long after… I was attacked. Bertie wanted me to know that I was still there. That I had meaning and value. That the person who did that to me could never take that away. Ever. That Alex Silkwell was alive and would thrive.”
“In addition to being an artist, Bertie sounded like she would have made a great counselor.”
“She helped me more than all the fancy shrinks ever did. But it was more or less what you told me, too, when I was on the roof. So are you a great counselor, as well?”
“Depends on who I’m counseling.”
Alex stepped forward, put her hand out to the painting, and gently traced her jawline, and next the curve of her right eye.
“I had just turned sixteen when I painted this. I’m twice as old as that now.”
“Still a young woman with most of her life ahead of her.”
“I’m a very different person now, Travis.”
“Experience changes all of us, no matter whether we want it to or not. And like I said before, you’re stronger and better than your younger version.”
“And like you said, I guess the fact that I’m still standing is a victory of sorts.”
“In the Army it was the only one that counted.”
“You never told me why you left the military.”
“Some days I don’t even know,” he lied.
She seemed to sense this and looked away. “You expect truthfulness from everyone except yourself?” she said coldly.
Devine sighed and nodded. “You’re right. I’m being a hypocrite. The truth is I left the Army because I had to. Officially, it was my decision, but I really had no other pathway.”
“Why?”
“Someone committed a wrong, a horrible wrong, against a fellow colleague of ours, and was never held accountable for it. I tried to work through the proper channels to right that wrong. And I was stonewalled. So I took matters into my own hands. But by righting a wrong I committed one of my own. After that I felt I didn’t have the right to wear the uniform. The honorable thing to do was leave, and so I did. My penance was giving up the thing I loved the most.”
She stared at him for an uncomfortably long time before saying, “I’m sorry that happened to you. But thank you for being honest with me.”
“You deserve it.”
She looked around and said, “Why did you bring me here?”
“I want you to see if you notice anything different from when you were here last working with Bertie.”
“Why?”
“Just bear with me and I’ll explain later. Go ahead. Use your artist’s eye for detail.”
She shrugged and walked around looking at everything. Then she stopped and pointed toward the ceiling rafter. “That wasn’t there before.”
He looked where she was motioning. A blackened pulley had been screwed into a roof joist directly above where Earl had been found hanging. It was the same color as the board it was attached to and thus blended right in. Devine wasn’t certain he had even noticed it before.
“You’re sure it wasn’t there?”
“Very sure. We could have actually used something like that to lift up a few of the heavy sculpture pieces Bertie and I did here.”
Lift up?
She eyed the pulley and then glanced at him. “On the widow’s walk, you mentioned that someone might have killed Earl?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. Yet.”
Devine quickly formulated a rough trajectory that carried him back to a large bolt that was screwed into the wall over the top of a wooden workbench set there.
He bent down and examined the bolt more closely with his phone light. Was that a rope fiber on top of the workbench?
Things were starting to make sense. Still, there were unanswered questions. Lots of them.
“Was that helpful?” she said, drawing Devine from his reverie.
He looked at her. “Oh, Alex, you don’t know how much. Thank you.”
CHAPTER
60
DEVINE AND ALEX NEXT DROVE to the police station, where Mildred James greeted them.
“Alex?” she said in surprise. “I haven’t seen you in some time.”
Alex looked down at her boots. “Yes, I’ve… been pretty busy.”
“I’m sure. And I am so sorry about your sister, hon. Jenny was so—”
“—perfect?” said Alex, looking up with a sad expression. “I know everyone says that, but she really was, you know.” She glanced nervously at Devine. “At least she was to me. She looked after me and supported me, when others were… preoccupied.”
James looked a bit confused by all this, and Devine hastened to move things along.
“The evidence file for Earl Palmer? Can I take a look at it?”
“Certainly.”
She led them back, warned Devine that he couldn’t let Alex touch anything, and then left them. He figured she would have been far more hesitant to let the two of them have access to this evidence if Palmer’s death had not been officially ruled a suicide, despite her agreeing with Devine’s theory as to it possibly having been a murder.
“What are we looking for?” asked Alex.
Devine proceeded to tell her about his theory of the case with Earl’s death having been a homicide because of the man’s physical limitations. “And your seeing the pulley bolsters that.”
“That all makes sense, Travis. You would think Chief Harper could see that, too.”
“When he was Sergeant Harper he accessed your evidence file.”
“Why?”
“I guess he wanted to see if he could solve it, but your rape kit was missing, as I told you before.”
“Who would take it?”
“Whoever didn’t want your attacker to be found.”
“Do you have any idea who it is, Travis?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“I’m getting closer, I can feel it.”
He looked over the evidence that had been gathered from the Palmers’ studio and focused on the noose.
He took pictures of it with his camera.
“God, that is a gruesome-looking thing,” said Alex.
“Between World War II and 1961 the U.S. military executed 160 soldiers for various offenses. They were all hanged, and the Army was responsible for 157 of them.”
“An eye for an eye?”
“Not really. Fourteen offenses are punishable by death during times of war or peace. Every soldier knows what they are, or should. So long as he or she avoids them, they have no problem.” He didn’t tell her that one of them was for rape.
“And for times of war only?” she said.
“Four, including desertion and willfully disobeying or assaulting a superior officer.”
“I suppose you never willfully disobeyed or assaulted a superior officer?”
“Not a superior officer, no,” said Devine, thinking of Kenneth Hawkins, who had, like Devine, also held the rank of captain.
He drove Alex back to Jocelyn Point. She got out of the truck and then poked her head back in. “I heard about your rental. Annie said it was shot full of holes.”
“It was. But I’m not.”
She visibly shuddered at his flippant remark. “Do you know why they’re trying to kill you? Is it connected to what happened to Jenny?”
“I don’t know, honestly. It could be connected to something totally unrelated. Old enemies,” he added.
“Please be careful.”
“I always am, Alex. It’s why I’m still here.”
Devine watched her walk inside, then started back down the drive. But as he was doing so he noted for the first time that the drive also had a branch off to the right, heading toward some of the other buildings he had seen on his first night here. He hung a quick right and drove off.
The first three buildings he reached were abandoned or falling down, and otherwise uninhabitable. The fourth one was not.
He parked in front and looked back at the main house. It was not visible from here because the trees and large bushes neatly blocked this building from both the house’s view and from the coast road.
He got out and approached the door. The walls were stone while the door was wood. It was locked. The windows were blacked out and seemed to be painted shut. He tried his lock gun, but the lock was superior to his skill and equipment. He walked around the building and quickly found that was the only door.
He studied the path to the building’s entrance. Well-worn, so well used. And recently. He stood at the window and took a quick inhale. He had done this in the Middle East. Munitions and explosives all had distinct odors. He wasn’t smelling anything like that. Yet there was some scent in there that he couldn’t readily identify. And there was also a humming. Was it insects, bees? Was there infestation in there?
He waited, listened. No, it was too consistent, same sounds, same rhythm.
Mechanical, not natural, he concluded.
He took out his phone and Googled something. It took a few minutes of searching before he found what he was looking for.
Closest place was twenty miles from here.
He jumped into the truck and sped off.
Nearly two hours later Devine was back with what he needed. He returned to Jocelyn Point but stopped short of the entry driveway.
He made the rest of the trip on foot as darkening clouds gathered above him.
He slipped in and out of tree lines, and waited behind bushes to make sure there was no one about. It felt like he was back in the Afghan mountains hunting the Taliban and its iterations, all while they hunted him.
He reached the building, found a good spot, and set up what he had purchased.
The surveillance camera was motion operated so it wouldn’t be on continuous feed and was capable of being synced with his phone, which would alert him if there was any activity. He performed all the necessary tasks, including securing the tiny camera to the trunk of a tree with a direct sight line to the door.
Now he just had to wait for his trap to be sprung. But while he was waiting for that he had things to do. He drove off.
However, he was just about to run into an obstacle.
CHAPTER
61
HARPER AND FUSS PASSED HIM going the other way in their patrol car.
The cruiser whipped around, the roof lights cranked on, and the siren ruptured an otherwise quiet day in Putnam, Maine.
An exasperated Devine slammed a fist against the dashboard and barked, “I don’t have time for this shit!”
