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XXIV
The Last Tuesday
And for all that I may like to say that I am not a philosopher, nonetheless if my concern is with truth then I am still a philosopher.
Michel Foucault
Charlie woke early on Tuesday. He'd slept well enough, but his first thought was that he was getting tired of worrying about that phoned threat as well as of the whole Wilson/McKay affair. He admitted to himself as he showered that he really had no idea of what to do next or who it might be that had threatened him. Regrettably, Bolster and DeVries didn't look to him to be on the verge of solving the case. He still thought he was right about Hamilton's involvement, but that didn't seem to be taking him or the police anywhere. Looking back on the meeting with Shwayder, Charlie decided that Shwayder didn't have it in him to kill one much less two men. His dislike of Shwayder had prompted him to make too much of the connection with Hamilton. Of the two, Charlie was sure that Hamilton was far and away the more potentially dangerous.
After making coffee for Kate, who he heard stirring around upstairs, Charlie went to his office. On arriving he dumped his laptop on his desk and went for his usual coffee and pastry. Jody and Phoebe were getting ready for the day and there seemed to be no one else in the department. Too early.
Over his coffee Charlie thought again about Hamilton. Did he really think her capable of killing McKay? Somehow the idea hadn't weathered well. He was sure she was mixed up in the book affair, but he began to doubt she was a killer. Mr. John-whoever-he-is-Sawyer needed to be identified. Charlie considered that taking what Hamilton had said to Shwayder at face value, that McKay had shot Barrett, what made the most sense was that Sawyer had shot McKay. Charlie recalled his idea that a woman, possibly Hamilton or Milford, had distracted McKay and then let someone else into his apartment. That someone else was obviously Sawyer. One tricky thing was that McKay had been killed with the same gun as Barrett. That made it look as if Sawyer had shot both Barrett and McKay, otherwise how would he have taken the gun from McKay?
No; there was another possibility. Hamilton visits McKay and he pours them two glasses of wine. At some point McKay goes to the bathroom. There wasn't another option because his was a studio apartment. Hamilton opens the door and lets Sawyer in. Sawyer has a gun in his hand and when McKay comes into the room, Sawyer's waiting and has him at gun-point. Sawyer then asks McKay where his gun is and has Hamilton get it. Sawyer next takes McKay's gun and uses it on McKay, likely to confuse things. Sawyer hasn't fired his own gun. Sawyer takes the Glock with him, likely to further confuse things, after he and Hamilton search McKay's apartment for the books. That worked. Well, maybe not. Hamilton couldn't count on McKay conveniently going to the bathroom. No. She visits McKay; they have their wine. Sawyer gets the drop on McKay as Hamilton is leaving. Then they go through the gun exchange bit. That was better.
Well, enough of that. He had to get some work done before heading off for lunch.
At a little before twelve Charlie walked to the club. At the club table was an electrical engineer who had a good sense of humor and from whom Charlie had gotten a lot of information about hi-fi and internet radio. They swapped a couple of jokes and Charlie then asked her about voice-disguising gadgets.
"Who are you trying to fool, Charlie?"
"No, no; not me. I got a call that I'm sure was on one. The voice was very hollow and odd-sounding. The main thing is it was a man's voice but I wondered if it could be a woman."
"Oh, sure; that's easy enough. The hollowness, or at least a little, is pretty much inescapable, but the voice shouldn't have sounded odd. Probably the thingy was set too high. Most of the better ones produce quite natural-sounding voices, male or female. The slight hollowness can always be explained as a problem with a cell-phone or that someone else is on the line."
"Yes; that's just what it sounded like, as if I were talking to someone on an extension while someone else was still listening."
The conversation soon turned to the President's gaffes, as it invariably did at some point, then they got back into jokes. Charlie left a little earlier than usual, musing as he walked back to his office. That most likely had been Hamilton on the phone when he got the threat, but he'd pretty much assumed that. Could she have been the one talking to Smythe? Maybe she'd shot both Barrett and McKay; perhaps there simply was no John Sawyer. Charlie still thought Hamilton was the likeliest to have caught McKay off-guard. But how had she gotten the gun? Charlie doubted she would have had one gun, gotten the other from McKay, and then shot him with his own gun.
Back in his office Charlie pondered the move he wanted to make. He checked the time and worked out the time-difference. It'd be almost seven in London; too late. But why not try? He looked up the Tanner, MacLean, and Smythe web-site, got the phone number, and called. He was delighted when the phone was answered.
"Hello? This is Dr. Charles Douglas; I wonder if I could possibly get Mr. Smythe's home number. It's rather important. …Oh, he's still there? Might he give me a moment of his time. It's about his recent trip. …Yes, I'll hold."
The voice Charlie heard after a couple of minutes was plummy and irritated.
"Ah, Dr. Douglas? I am here quite late because of a special sale and was just about to leave. Is this important or could it wait until tomorrow?"
"Sorry to intrude, Mr. Smythe, but yes, it's important and it won't take a minute. I've been working with Detective DeVries regarding the books you were offered and I have just one question for you: when you spoke with Mr. Sawyer, did you notice anything odd about his voice?"
"Odd? How do you mean?"
"Did Sawyer's voice sound normal? I don't want to suggest anything, but was there a certain hollowness when he spoke?"
"Well, yes, but he explained the first time he called that his mobile phone tended to sound that way. It was not in any case especially noticeable; certainly it didn't impede our conversations. Does that help? I cannot imagine why this was important enough for you to call, but I have a long drive and do have to go."
Charlie thanked Smythe and hung up. That had been a break, that he was still there. In fact, Charlie probably wouldn't have been given Smythe's home number and during regular hours Smythe might have been more difficult to reach on the phone. The important thing was that from what he'd said, it could have been Hamilton with whom he spoke. Sawyer was the name she'd used but there probably was no Sawyer. Charlie had little doubt that Hamilton could have handled everything on her own. In a way, that made things worse. If there was no John Sawyer to find and apprehend, there was no chance of getting Hamilton with what the police had so far and she'd likely get away with murder. There were only two things still hanging fire: the two missing books and her threat. Charlie fervently hoped that Hamilton wouldn't risk doing anything about the threat, but having killed at least McKay and possibly Barrett, too, she had to want those two books badly as they were all that was left.
Charlie wondered about calling DeVries. From what Smythe had said, it seemed it hadn't occurred to her or to Bolster to ask him about the voice on the phone when he talked to the dubious Sawyer. That looked like a slip and Charlie was pleased he'd thought of it. Yes; he'd better call DeVries.
She wasn't in and Charlie left the usual message; then he started to deal with his email, which was, again, mostly from students.
By four-thirty DeVries hadn't called and Charlie went home. He had to park two blocks away and as he walked to the house he was struck by the fact that the living-room shades were drawn. Neither he nor Kate ever drew them. He started to get a bad feeling and hurried to the door.
"Welcome home, Charlie. Now, close the door and come into the living-room without making a fuss."
Hamilton was standing in the entryway holding a gun. Charlie noticed it had a suppressor screwed on the barrel. She backed up as Charlie entered and motioned him into the living-room. The first thing Charlie saw was Kate seated on one of the straight-back chairs, her right wrist handcuffed to the armrest.
r /> "Charlie. I'm so sorry. She said not to say anything or she'd shoot you."
"Okay, Charlie, sit down over here and don't move. We need to talk."
Still wearing his coat, Charlie sat near to Kate on another straight-back chair. Hamilton came up behind him and he felt the gun at the back of his skull.
"Don't move."
So saying, Hamilton quickly snapped a handcuff on his wrist and the other to the armrest. Hamilton then moved around in front of him and, standing at a safe distance, spoke again.
"Neither of you can move quickly enough, dragging a chair, to reach me before I shoot you both. Handy that Chet had these cuffs. Now we can talk. Things haven't gone too well, Charlie, in large part because of your meddling. I hadn't figured out where Barrett put the books, but I probably would have if you hadn't found them first. That was a major loss, but I learned that the two most valuable books weren't with the others. Where are they?"
With her last remark Hamilton pointed the gun at Kate.
"For God's sake! I don't have them!"
"Oh? Then who has? I spoke to Smythe just before he left. He told me the police were missing the annotated copies of De materia. You're the only one who could have them and I want those books. It's all I'm getting out of this fiasco that is forcing me to leave Kingsford and disappear. I don't care at this point. If I have to shoot your wife, I will. I'll start with something painful, like a knee."
"You're John Sawyer."
"Brilliant, but I assumed you'd figured that out."
"I did; I just wasn't certain. At first I thought it was Dave Shwayder."
"That wuss? No chance. Now, the books!"
"I don't have them. I assumed the killer took them. That's what the police think, too. They even checked Smythe wasn't leaving with them in his luggage."
"You're lying! There's no one else who could have them! I don't want to kill anyone else, but I will if you don't give me those books!"
"You shot Barrett as well as McKay."
"You fell for the idea that Chet had killed Barrett, didn't you. You fool. Chet thought Barrett was moving too slowly, but he wouldn't have shot his mentor. I met with Barrett. He was expecting John Sawyer. When I showed up the idiot at first thought I was there for something else. Can you imagine? At his office on New Year's Eve? I took him completely by surprise, but he didn't have the books. He'd been instructed to have them, but I guess he was playing safe."
"But DeVries said you had an alibi; you were showing houses to two clients."
"Yes; I did, but I had enough time. It was close but I managed. It wasn't as if I was going to spend time chatting with Barrett. I went precisely to take him out of the picture. I wasn't in the building even ten minutes. His door was open for 'John Sawyer' and he'd left one of the front doors open by slipping a piece of cardboard in the latch, as he said on the phone he would. I went into his office, sat down, took out the gun, and that was that. It took me just a minute or two to see he didn't have the books with him. I was sure Chet had them. Anyway, I met my client at a few minutes after five. No problem."
"I thought it was McKay's gun."
"Nope; got that from a guy I dated a couple of years ago. He even showed me how to use it; said I was a natural."
"And you surprised McKay."
"That was tricky. I started out by 'confessing' to him that I'd shot Barrett. I told him it was so he and I could split the proceeds. He didn't quite buy it but by that time I had the gun out and shot him twice. I wasn't careful; just wanted to incapacitate him and it worked better than I thought because both shots hit him in the chest. I then administered the coup d' grace to be certain. But he didn't have the books and I didn't find them in Barrett's house - to which I'd kept a key. I even tried Milford's, but no luck. Of course, they were squirreled away in your department basement. But let's get back to the missing two. Where are they?"
"I don't know. I thought sure you had them; that Barrett had had them to show while he kept the others in the storage area. I wouldn't screw around with Kate's life for two lousy books!"
Charlie thought he saw doubt in Hamilton's eyes
"You're making this difficult. I can't very well search the house with you two down here."
"Search all you want; I swear neither of us will try anything."
"As if I'd believe that. I think what we're going to do is this. I'm going to take Kate with me. But first I'm going to cuff you to that radiator instead of the chair. There's no phone within reach. Now, very careful. I'm going to unlock the handcuff but I'll keep the gun on Kate. One wrong move and she's dead."
Hamilton walked around behind Charlie's chair and unlocked the handcuffs from the arm-rest. She had Charlie stand and move over to the radiator. He was careful to move slowly. Hamilton was surprisingly quick in snapping the handcuff on one of the radiator pipes. She then ran her free hand over Charlie's pockets, easily finding and taking his cell, which she tossed to the other side of the room. She then went over to Kate's chair, held the gun to her head, and unlocked the handcuffs from the arm-rest. As before, she managed this one-handed, simply slipping in the key while holding the gun to Kate's head. She then snapped the freed cuff on Kate's other wrist and told her to stand. The two went upstairs.
Charlie couldn't think what he could do. He was too far from the phone and his cell was across the room. There was nothing close to where he was that was of any use. He heard Hamilton and Kate blundering around upstairs. It wouldn't take long. He tried desperately to think of something. Then he heard someone at the door. There was a soft knock; the bell wasn't used. By stretching as much as he could he reached for the shade on the front window closest to him. He could just barely reach it; not enough to put up but enough to shake it. The movement must have been noticed because the knocking stopped. Or whoever it was had left.
A minute later Charlie thought he heard something at the front door again, but just then there was a loud noise from upstairs, as if something had fallen. Concerned for Kate, Charlie called her name. There was no answer. A few tense minutes passed before he heard Kate and Hamilton coming down the stairs. When they entered the living room Charlie saw Kate had been crying; she was holding her cuffed hands to the side of her face. Hamilton ignored Charlie and shoved Kate into the kitchen. Charlie heard cupboard doors being opened and slammed closed. There was too much noise for him to hear if someone was still at the front door.
Charlie heard Hamilton ask about a basement and Kate saying there was none. Just then something odd happened. Charlie didn't hear anything, but he suddenly felt a draft. He was sure the front door had been opened. Fortunately, Hamilton was at that moment opening the back door to check out the back yard for any sort of storage space. As she was slamming the door shut a uniformed police officer stood in the living room doorway. He held his finger to his lips warning Charlie to keep quiet. With his free arm Charlie pointed to the kitchen. A second officer, this time a woman, was behind the first. The two were moving toward the kitchen when Kate walked back into the living room with Hamilton behind her. The two cops raised their guns and for an instant all four stood frozen. Then Kate, thinking fast, made the decisive move that saved the day: she dropped to the floor, leaving Hamilton exposed in the doorway. Hamilton, without Kate as a shield, turned and ran back into the kitchen. The cops quickly followed. At that moment Bolster and DeVries entered the living room from the front, both with guns in their hands. Hamilton was at the back door but before she could open it the cops were all over her. Hamilton was read her rights and Bolster and the two officers took her out to the squad car. DeVries unlocked Charlie's and Kate's handcuffs. Charlie noticed that she did it with her own key, not having gotten Hamilton's. Interesting.
"Are you both okay?"
Kate had a red welt on the side of her face where Hamilton hit her while they were upstairs. Charlie was just shaken up. Both sat down as did DeVries. Bolster re-entered the living room and Charlie heard the squad car leave, its siren starting.
"Ms. Douglas, that w
as brilliant. If only more people in that situation did the same. If Hamilton had grabbed you, things would have ended very differently."
Charlie smiled at Kate and then addressed DeVries.
"How did you know?"
"The shades. One of the officers in the squad car said she'd never seen your front-room shades down in all the times they'd checked your house. She knocked on the door and saw one of the shades being shaken and decided something was wrong. She went back to the car and called us while her partner went to your door and started trying the skeleton keys most of them carry - useful in cases of domestic abuse. He took a chance regarding the legality of entering your house, but he made the right call that you wouldn't mind if there was something wrong."
"Well, he certainly got that right!"
After Bolster and DeVries left Kate cried on Charlie's shoulder.
"I was so stupid! I went to the store and when I got back I opened the door without checking around. Hamilton must have been right behind me. When I turned to close the door she was in the doorway with that gun in her hand. It was my fault, Charlie. She got in because of me. We could've been killed!"
Charlie consoled Kate and eventually they went to bed. Though relieved, Charlie lay awake for a while wondering: where were the two copies of De materia?