Дэвид Балдаччи - Redemption

“That you know of.”

Natty glanced sharply up at him. “And what does the wig have to do with this?”

“The wig pretty much exactly matches Susan Richards’s hairdo.”

It took a few moments for this to connect with Natty. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that—”

“That Brimmer put on a wig to impersonate Richards? Yeah, I am. I think Richards’s body was in that suitcase. It was all a show for Richards’s neighbor. To make us think she’d done a runner. And then committed suicide.”

“You’re saying that Sally killed Richards? No fucking way. I’ve run into a lot of murderers, Decker. So have you. Sally couldn’t have hurt a fly.”

“I don’t think she killed Richards. She might not have even known what was in the suitcase. It might have been locked. But I think she was forced to impersonate Richards and leave in her car with the suitcase. At some point others took the suitcase and then left the body where we found it.”

“Why would Sally be part of something like that?”

“Maybe somebody was blackmailing her.”

“About what?”

“One guess, Natty.”

Realization spread over his features. “Our... fling?”

“Someone tells her they’ll spill the truth to your wife unless Sally puts on the wig. Otherwise, she’d be ruined professionally. They didn’t have to tell her that Richards was dead, or in the suitcase. She just had to drive it away in the car.” Decker paused. “So, that’s why I want to know if Brimmer was acting funny.”

“But Sally was killed before they found Richards.”

“But Sally could have already known she was dead.”

Natty took a few moments to process all this. Then the detective in him seemed to win out and he sat forward.

“I thought it was just her being nervous about our relationship. But we were having a drink at her place one night, this was shortly after Richards disappeared.”

Decker sat forward. “And?”

“And she wanted to know what I thought about Richards’s disappearance. I told her maybe she’d killed Hawkins and had gone on the run.”

“What was her reaction to that?”

“She didn’t seem to buy it, if you want the truth. I actually picked up on that and asked her if she had any theories.”

“Did she?”

“She... she said that sometimes people looked at things from the wrong way round. Almost like looking in a mirror. She even gave an example. In a mirror you lift up your right hand, but in the reflection, your mind tricks you into thinking—”

“That it’s your left,” finished Decker.

Natty nodded. “What do you think she meant by that?”

Decker didn’t answer.

Though he had an idea of exactly what the dead woman might have meant.

On his bed at the Residence Inn, Decker laid out all the construction plans for the American Grill that David Katz had built about fifteen years ago. The plans seemed pretty normal for such a restaurant buildout, but he didn’t recognize the name of the architect set forth on the plans. In fact, the address of the business showed that it was from out of state.

He called Lancaster. She was at home. He asked her to put Earl on.

“What’s up, Amos?” said the man when he got on the phone.

“Got some construction-related questions for you.”

Earl seemed relieved that the questions were not of a more personal nature. “Okay, shoot.”

“You remember the American Grill project?”

“The Katzes’ restaurant?”

“Right.”

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t work on it, but I remember it going up.”

“Did you try to work on it?”

“I didn’t have my GC license back then, but I had my finish carpentry business. I put in a bid to do some of the interior work. Didn’t get it.”

“Do you know who the GC was?”

“Funny thing you mention that. I didn’t know the GC. Nobody did, because Katz used a company from out of town. Hell, out of state, I think.”

“What, you mean the workers too?”

“Yeah. Nobody local that I know worked on that project.”

“Why would he have done it that way? Wouldn’t it have been more costly?”

“Well, you’d think so. Bringing guys in like that, they have to live and eat somewhere. Guys who live here, we just go home at night. So, yeah, you’d have to pay more.”

“Was there no capacity back then? Did he have to go out of state?”

“Hell no. That was one of the slackest periods I can remember. Everyone was looking for work. When they rejected my proposal, I even went around to Katz’s office to see if there was anything else I could do. Mary and I hadn’t been married all that long and we wanted to have a family. I was trying to build up my business. And Katz had blown into town with a lot of money and ambition and I was anxious to get on that train.”

“And what happened when you met with him?”

“I didn’t actually meet with him. I met with one of his people. Forget the name. He told me in not such polite terms that Mr. Katz had his own crew. Well, that pissed me off a little bit. I mean, why ask for proposals from local people if you’re going to use your own crew?”

“What did that guy say?”

“I gotta tell you, Decker, I’m no wallflower. I’m a big, strong guy, but this guy scared the bejesus out of me just the way he was looking at me.”

“Can you describe him? I know it’s been a long time.”

“No, I can. That’s the sort of impression he made on me. He was about my height and weight. Dark hair, dark eyes, and, I don’t mean this to sound un-PC or anything, but, well, he just didn’t seem to be American. At least not in my mind.”

“Did he have an accent?”

“Not that I could tell, but I’m not real good about picking up on things like that.”

“So you left it there?”

“What else could I do? I couldn’t force the guy to use me.”

“So all the work was done with nonlocal people?”

“Far as I know. Well, I take that back. The excavation work was done by Fred Palmer, he’s local.”

“Excavation?”

“Yeah, for the foundation and everything. That can involve some heavy equipment. Katz may not have wanted to truck that in.”

“Palmer still around?”

“Oh yeah, I got his number. I use him on projects. He’s a good guy. Does first-rate work.” Earl gave him the contact info.

“Thanks. Do you remember the construction work going on for the Grill?”

“Yeah, I’d drive by it every once in a while.”

“Anything strike you as unusual about it?”

“Well, they had a high fence and security around the place.”

“That’s not unusual at a construction site, is it? I mean it’s to keep people out and stop theft of equipment and materials.”

“Yeah, but they had it there from day one. Before they had any materials on site. And you can’t really steal a ten-ton piece of equipment and drive it off down the street.” He paused. “And they tarped everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“They covered everything up.”

“You mean so no one could see in?”

“Right. I thought that was strange.”

At that moment, apparently Mary Lancaster snatched the phone from her husband. “Why all this interest in the American Grill?”

“Just a theory.”

“What’s your theory?”

“I’m still forming it. But I think we made a mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“By commencing our investigation at the point of the murders.”

“Where else should we have started it?”

“Why did David Katz choose to come to Burlington, Ohio? Or did someone else make that decision for him?”

Fred Palmer was in his seventies, overweight and bald, with a cheerful face and ruddy complexion. His office had one window, one desk with a chair, and two chairs fronting the desk. There were no pictures on the wall. No carpet underfoot.