"And you came down and picked up the body with your wrecker, and put her in the ditch."
"I guess," he said.
"That's the goddamnedest thing," the Goodhue deputy said. "You should have gone right straight to the police."
"You weren't there," Davis moaned. "You weren't there."
"And you loved her?" Lucas asked.
"I did then, but that's gone away," Davis said. "That crazy bitch. I see her looking at me . . . she was scaring me. I think, I don't know. I didn't want to be around when she had a knife in her hand."
"When she killed the other ones, were you around for that?" Lucas asked.
"What?"
"When she killed--"
"She didn't kill anybody else," Davis said. "I mean, I know that. We were together when those other people were killed, and we weren't anywhere around there."
"What about Frank?" Del asked.
"Frank who?"
"Frank Willett?"
"I don't know any Frank Willett. Who's he?"
Goodhue County
was part of a sheriff's co-op and the deputy called in the crime-scene team, and they all trucked back to the trailer. Davis told them where the pistol was, the one he'd used to shoot at Lucas, and they marked it. And they dug out the folder from the Riverside bank, the one that would have Emily Wau's fingerprints on it.
"Whose idea was the Francis thing--calling you Frank, so the ID would be good?" Lucas asked.
"Helen figured that out," Davis said.
"Where'd you get the ID?"
He shrugged: "Trucker. Them things float around, you can get any name you want."
"Did you have one of Frances's credit cards or something? I understand you had to have two forms of ID."
Davis's head bobbed. "Yeah . . . Helen got one of those offers in the mail, for a credit card, already approved. She mailed it back, and the card came. That's what started the whole thing. That right there."
They were outside,
in the dark, about to put Davis in the deputy's car, when another car topped the hill by the neighbor's farmhouse, and Davis said, "That's Helen, coming home from work."
Sobotny's car slowed at the turnoff, as Lucas hustled back to the truck, and then straightened and continued down the road. Del piled into the passenger seat, and they went after her, caught her a mile away, flashers going, and she finally pulled over by a stop sign.
They came up behind her, slowly, carefully, and found her with her head resting on the center pad of the steering wheel.
Lucas said, "Come out of there."
She sat up for a moment, staring straight ahead, like she was considering other possibilities, then turned the key and shut down the car, and got out.
"Agent Davenport," she said.
"Helen."
"What's happened?"
"Ricky rolled the truck. You might have seen it back there in the ditch," he said.
"I thought . . ." she began. Then: "Never mind."
Del said, "Tell you what, ma'am. Ricky sort of spilled his guts."
"Yes, that's what he'd do," she said. She looked at Del and sighed.
"We weren't smart enough to get away with this. We just weren't smart enough. Maybe I was, but Ricky . . . Ricky's a lunkhead."
"Why'd you kill the other three?" Lucas asked.
She frowned. "The other three? You mean . . . We didn't kill those people. We're not crazy. This has all been a mistake, that's what it was. We didn't want to hurt anybody--we certainly didn't kill anybody else."
Lucas looked at Del and said, "Ah, boy. I thought we had it wrapped."
And to Sobotny: "You have the right to remain silent . . ."
Chapter
24.
They processed
Davis and Sobotny in St. Paul.
Sobotny asked for an attorney; Davis, miserable, declined an attorney, and made a statement, admitting that he'd moved the body and destroyed evidence: the knife used in the killing was in the woods, somewhere between the Austin house and the spot where the body was found, and he had no exact idea where.
He said that he moved the body in the wrecker, which made good the evidence taken off the plastic sheet, and out of the wrecker bed.
Sobotny actually hadn't driven to the Austin house that morning, because her car's water pump was out, and Davis had driven her to the Austins'. After the killing, they'd hastily cleaned up with paper towels and some "cleaning stuff" taken from the broom closet, which made good the crime-scene lab reports on the floor. Then they'd loaded the body into the wrecker, and Davis had taken it out a few miles and pitched it in a ditch. Sobotny had driven Frances's car back to Frances's neighborhood, and parked it, in an effort to conceal the fact that Frances had been at the house that afternoon.
"Honest to God, I was so freaked out that I didn't know what I was doing," he said. "She was telling me what to do, pushing me around, and by the time I got to thinking about it, it was all done and I was in the shit. I knew it wasn't gonna work. My dad said, 'If you ever d
o a
nything crooked, the 'thorities will get you.' He said that all the time, and we kids all believed it, and here it is, the proof."
"If you didn't plan to do anything bad, what about the money?" Lucas asked. "You had to plan the fifty thousand dollars."
Davis's tongue flicked out. "Yeah. I guess. I just kept thinking about them birds. No cholesterol, no fat. Them birds were gonna be my career."
He said he was sorry, that he would never do anything like that again, and asked who would feed his birds. They had to be fed that evening and again the next morning. Del called the Goodhue County Humane Society, and the woman who answered the phone said that one way or another, they'd take care of it.
The statement was recorded.
Lucas, Del, and the Goodhue cop made statements about the arrest procedure, the reading of the Miranda warning, which was critical, because Davis had simply blurted out the confession.
And when they were done, Del said, "I think we're good."
The Goodhue deputy, a cheerful farm boy with a blond flattop, slapped Del on the back, hitched up his gun belt, and said, "Man, I was in on a murder arrest. First time for that, eh? You're looking at the deputy of the month."
By the time
they got out, it was nine o'clock, a small, cold-looking moon coming up in the east, with clouds ripping across it, almost like at Halloween.
They stood together in the parking lot while Lucas talked to Jenkins, who'd relieved Shrake at the drugstore apartment, watching Heather.
"She took a long hot bath tonight," Jenkins said. "Now I gotta find another woman."
"What happened to the last one?"
"Wore me out," Jenkins said. "And she always listening to that fuckin' piano music, that
Well-Tempered Clavier
shit. Enough to drive a saint to drink."
"But nothing going on."
"Well, I'd call that bath something, but in your cop frame of reference, no. No sign of anybody," Jenkins said. "But you know, I got the feeling that she's doing this on purpose: she's holding us here." "She's a performer," Lucas said.
"She's a goddamn snake," Jenkins said. "Though I gotta say, that's the kind I like."
Lucas had called
Weather to tell her about the arrests, and she was waiting to hear more when he got home. "I couldn't believe it--the case was like an egg that got broken. All of a sudden,
crack,"
she said. "What did Alyssa say?"
"I haven't told her," Lucas said. "I'm going to call her now, I'm going over there. I'd like you to come along." "Me?"
"Won't take long," Lucas said. "You're cutting tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, but nothing big. I've got to graft some skin on a tumor site. I could do it in my sleep."
"So come on with me to Alyssa's," Lucas said.
Lucas called ahead,
and told Austin they had some news, and that he wanted to come over. She'd be waiting.
They took the Porsche, and in the car, Lucas said, "When we ge
t t
here, I'm going to leave you alone for a few minutes . . . maybe, I don't know, I'll think of something. Anyway, when it's just you two, I want you to suggest that I come back and get you, that you want to talk for a few minutes. Then, I want you to find out how she feels about these other three killings. About the three we don't know about."
"You don't think these two jerks did it?"
"I don't think so. And I don't think Frank Willett did it, either. I just don't have that feeling," Lucas said.
"So why . . ." Weather began. But she was no dummy. "Oh, no-- you don't think Alyssa had anything to do with it?"
"I don't know," Lucas said. "For Christ sakes, don't ask her. If she's involved, she's nuts. You'll be okay, but I'd like you to get her to talk about it, and tell me what she says. She's gotten a little wary with me. I think with you, she'll open up."
"Because I'm a friend," Weather said.
"Yeah."
"So I can betray her."
"C'mon, Weather, you're not betraying her," Lucas said, turning to her in the dark. "You're helping out in an investigation. I want you to bullshit with her a bit, and tell me what you think."
Austin came
to the door in sheepskin moccasins and an ankle-length white sleeping gown of a soft fine white cloth that might have been made from unicorn hair, and let them in with a blast of cold air. Lucas said, "I'm sorry, you look like you're ready for bed."
"I'd just gotten out of the bath when you called," she said. "What happened now?"
"We arrested Helen and Ricky for Frances's murder," Lucas said. "Helen won't talk to us, but Ricky has given a statement. There's no
t m
uch question--Helen stabbed Frances when Frances accused her of taking the fifty thousand dollars, and Ricky helped cover up."
Tears began running down Austin's face, and as she backed down the hallway toward the living room, she said, "Why? Why would she do that? She was like a member of the family."
"Greed, basically--they were trying to start a business, and needed the money, and when Frances figured it out, she confronted Helen and there was a blowup. Helen stabbed her."
They sat down and Lucas took her through it, step by step, and she got up once to get some tissues and blow her nose, and at the end, she said, "So it's all done."
"Not quite done," Lucas said. He looked at his watch and said, "Shoot," and then back up at Austin and said, "I don't think that either Ricky or Helen, or Frank Willett, had anything to do with the other three killings--but I do think that the three killings are tied to Frances, somehow. And maybe Willett and Ricky and Helen are pulling my weenie, but I've been doing this for a long time and that's not the feeling I'm getting. We'll see." He looked at his watch again, and then said, "Uh, I've got something else going on. We've got a big dope guy coming through town, we've got a surveillance going, with all this excitement with Ricky and Helen, I forgot to check. I need to use your kitchen phone?"
Lucas stood up and Austin, blowing her nose again, said, "You know where it is," and Lucas left them, going down the hall toward the kitchen. Weather said, "It's over now. I really don't know what else to say--God, if I lost one of my kids . . . but you don't want to hear that. Now you've just got to hold on. If you need
anything. . ."
They could hear Lucas down the hall on the phone, and Austin said, "Some big dope dealer?"
"You wouldn't believe what's going on with that--I can't tell yo
u n
ow, Lucas would kill me, but when it's over, we'll get a cup of coffee," Weather said. "Some of it's awful and some of it's hilarious."
"Unlike what happened with Helen," Austin said. "I can't get over it--why would she do that? I loved Helen."
Weather said, "My relationship with Lucas started--really started-- when a little girl shot him in the throat and I was there to keep him breathing. Since then, we talk about his cases, and I 'll tell you, the craziest stuff happens all the time. I always thought crazy stuff happens in medicine, but if you're not a cop, you can't even begin to conceive how weird people get. Lucas arrested a man who borrowed money from a neighbor, and then murdered the neighbor so he wouldn't have to pay him back--two hundred and twenty dollars that he used to get his snowblower fixed. He
killed
him."
"That's not even crazy," Austin said. "That's beyond crazy."
Weather didn't want to get into crazy cop stories--Lucas would kill
her
--and so she asked, "Is the funeral still on Saturday?"
"Yes. They'll release her, and it's Saturday morning. I just . . . I just . . ."
Weather said, "She's in heaven, now, Alyssa. She's fine."
Austin's chin trembled and she used another tissue on her nose and said, "I really don't believe in heaven, I'm afraid. She's been released from this incarnation into the next; I hope she found a good spirit guide. Maybe her father, if he hasn't yet been reborn. She was a good girl; she took care of people. I think her karma, her energy, will take her higher yet." She snuffled some more.