William Krueger: Mercy Falls

“You wanted to see me,” Cork said.

“If I were a younger man, I’d stand up and beat you to death with my own hands.”

“I didn’t kill your son.”

“Lou has been told about the police investigation,” Gabriella said. “He knows about the gun they found. What they call a throw-down, I believe. They told him it is something policemen have been known to do to get away with murder.”

“Not this cop. Have you talked to Dina Willner?”

“She has been mysteriously silent to our inquiries,” Gabriella replied.

“It’s not enough you kill my son,” Jacoby spat out. “You slander my grandson, too, with your lies.”

“I understand your grief,” Cork said. “But don’t let it blind you to the truth.”

With difficulty, Jacoby rose from his chair. “I’m not a man of idle threats. An eye for an eye. You hear me?”

“Mercy,” Jo said, speaking softly into the dark of the room. “It falls like the gentle rain from heaven, Mr. Jacoby.”

“Not in this house, woman.” He said to Gabriella, “Get them out.”

Gabriella came forward and placed herself between the O’Connors and the old man. “It’s time for you to go.”

“We’ve done nothing to you,” Jo said.

“You’ve done everything short of killing me. Get out.”

Jo turned away, then Cork. Gabriella followed them out and led them toward the front door.

“I warned you,” she said.

“Have you even tried to help him understand?” Cork said.

“You saw him. When he’s ready to listen to reason, I will reason.”

As they neared the door, they saw Evers blocking the way, arguing with someone standing just outside.

“What is it?” Gabriella said.

Evers stepped aside, and Jo saw Rae Bly framed in the doorway.

“I was trying to explain that I have my instructions.”

“To keep me out?” Rae’s voice was a sharp blade of indignation. “I don’t believe it.”

“That’s all right. I will take care of it,” Gabriella said.

Evers stepped back, turned, and walked away, stiff as a zombie.

Gabriella addressed her sister-in-law. “It is true. He does not want to see you.”

“Does he even know I’m here?”

“I told him that you called. He won’t see you. If you try to talk to him now, you will only be hurt by him. When he is ready, I will let you know.”

“I’m his daughter, Gabby.”

“As am I now. And we must think of him. Later he will see you. It will be all right, I promise, pobrecito. Now, good day to you all.”

Cork and Jo stepped outside.

Rae stared at the door that had closed against her. She wilted and then she wept. “Ben, Ben. Oh, Benny.”

Jo put her arms around her. After a minute, Rae pulled herself together.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“That’s all right.”

“I didn’t get all the details, but enough to say I’m sorry for what happened to you, Jo. It’s shameful, but that’s the Jacobys. Did Lou see you?”

“Only long enough to threaten us,” Jo said.

“Don’t take him lightly.”

“This is Cork, my husband.”

“I figured.”

“Rae is Ben’s sister.”

“I was sure he’d see me. We’re all we have now, each other.”

“Apparently, he thinks he has Gabriella, too,” Cork said.

“Will you be all right?” Jo asked.

“No, but that’s not your concern. You have your own problems. And the Jacobys,” she said bitterly, “we take care of our own affairs.”

They left her, a small figure standing alone in the shadow of her father’s great house.

From Rose and Mal’s duplex, he called the number on the card Dina Willner had given him.

“I just came from Lou Jacoby’s,” he told her.

“And you’re still alive?”

“Not for long, from the way he’s talking.”

“Cork, Lou doesn’t just talk.”

“Gabriella Jacoby says you’ve been silent on what happened at Ben’s place.”

“Silent? I’ve been trying to reach Lou but Gabriella is screening everything. I can’t get through to him.”

Cork heard the frustration in her voice, a rare emotion in his experience. He realized how tired she must be, too.

“How’s Jo?” she asked.

“Doing remarkably well, considering.”

“Strong woman. How about you? Are you all right?”

“Jo’s safe. I can handle everything else.”

“I’ll get to Lou somehow, explain things, Cork. That’s a promise.”

He was exhausted, but he spent the afternoon at a park on the lake with his family, pushing Stevie on the swings, talking with his daughters about Northwestern and Notre Dame, watching Jo-who seemed, in spite of what she’d been through, calm as the water on the lake that day. Twenty years before, he had proposed to her on Lake Michigan, on a dinner cruise, an evening that had changed his life and taken it in the best of directions.

He sent Jenny and Annie off to play with their brother while he sat on a blanket with Jo.

“I’ve been thinking about Gabriella,” he said. “And her brother. And about an angel who spoke to Lizzie Fineday.”

“An angel?”

“In Lizzie’s confused recollection anyway. What was it that Gabriella called Rae this morning? Pobrecito? What does that mean?”

“If I recall my college Spanish, it means something like ‘poor little one.’”

“Lizzie said her angel called her ‘poor vaceeto.’ Could it be that the angel spoke Spanish and what she really said was pobrecito?”

“You think Gabriella was Lizzie’s angel?”

“When I called Edward Jacoby’s home the morning after he was murdered, his housekeeper told me that Mrs. Jacoby wasn’t there. She was on a boat. Tony Salguero told me he was sailing on Lake Michigan. Because I didn’t know there was a connection between them, I didn’t put it together at the time, but what do you want to bet they were on the same boat? How difficult would it be to anchor somewhere not far from an airfield, fly to Aurora, take care of some pretty gruesome business, and get back to the boat in time for Lou Jacoby’s call the morning after Eddie was murdered?”

“I don’t know. How would you prove something like that?”

“They had to leave a trail. Dock somewhere, file a flight plan, gas up, land and park a plane. If they tailed Eddie out to Mercy Falls, they had to have a vehicle of some kind. A rental, maybe? There’s got to be documentation for some of this somewhere. It should just be a question of tracking it down.”

He stood up and called to the children. He hated to end the picnic, but there was work to be done.

First he called Ed Larson, who had already spoken with the Winnetka police and knew about what had happened to Jo.

“Christ, Cork. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“I’d love to get that Jacoby kid alone somewhere.”

“Won’t happen, Ed.”

“How’s Jo doing?”

“Holding her own.”

“Look, I do have two pieces of good news.”

“I could use some about now,” Cork said.

“First, Simon Rutledge was finally able to talk to Carl Berger. Looks like we’ll be amending the complaint against Lydell Cramer to include conspiracy to commit murder. Berger says that Cramer used his sister and LaRusse to arrange to have Stone do the hit at the Tibodeau cabin. The motive was revenge, pure and simple.

“Now for the second piece of good news. We finally found Arlo Knuth. He’d gone on a bender and wound up in the drunk tank in Hibbing. I talked to him. He says that after Schilling ran him off, he parked behind the blockhouse on the lower level at Mercy Falls. Around midnight, he saw two vehicles head to the upper lot near the overlook. Right behind them came a third vehicle that parked in the lower lot. Two people got out and hiked up the stairs toward the overlook. They came back down half an hour later and left. Arlo says he left right after that. The place was getting too busy.”