Дэвид Балдаччи - The Escape

He took the steps three at a time. There was a door at the top of the stairs. Puller eased it open and did a turkey peek.

He saw no one. He sight-cleared the room behind him and then headed forward. He eased around the corner, his gun straight ahead.

Then he stopped.

Knox was kneeling over Macri, who was sprawled on the floor, blood pouring from a wound in her chest.

Knox still held her gun in her right hand.

“Don’t move, Knox,” Puller called out, but he was prepared for her to move fast, turn, and fire at him.

Instead she held her gun up, her finger clearly off the trigger, the muzzle pointed down. She was surrendering.

“Put it down on the floor and kick it toward me,” ordered Puller.

“She needs an ambulance.”

“I’m sure she does. Kick the gun to me and then I’ll call one.”

Knox did as he instructed. He picked the gun up by the muzzle and laid it on the hall table. He punched in 911 on his phone and ordered an ambulance.

“Step away from her,” he said. “Lie down on the floor, hands behind your head and your legs splayed.”

“Puller, she tried to kill me!”

“I’m sure we’ll sort it all out. But for now, just do as I say.”

Knox got on the floor with her hands behind her head and her legs spread wide.

Puller knelt next to Macri, who was sprawled on her back on the floor next to a chair, her arms up around her head. He spotted a small bullet hole in her dark blouse, and saw the spread of blood across the cloth. He took her pulse at the neck and found none. Her eyes were open and frozen. Her hands were already starting to cool just a bit.

“She’s dead, Knox. Looks like the shot hit her square in the heart.”

“I thought she was dead.”

“What happened? Why are you even here?”

She started to rise but he barked, “Stay down. I won’t tell you again.”

She froze and then settled back down on the floor.

“I came to interview her. I was going to do it with you, but, well, you know how that turned out. I had to hike back to my car from the cemetery thanks to you.”

“Why interview her?”

“Because she didn’t search the guards.”

“Explain that.”

“I read your interview notes last night. She told you she didn’t search the guards for a device that would have made the noise. She said it was because she couldn’t believe any of the guards would have been involved. But of course she should have, regardless of that. There would have been no reason for her not to do so. Except for one.” She turned her head to the side and looked up at him.

“Which was?” he asked.

“If it wasn’t found on the guards then suspicion would have shifted to her. But if she didn’t search them, then–”

“It was like she’d provided an alibi for herself,” said Puller.

Knox said, “So you thought that too. Is that why you’re here?”

“I saw you pick the lock and go in. I went in through the basement. Then I heard the gunshots. Two of them.”

“She fired at me first,” said Knox. “Look at the wall over there.” She pointed with her right hand to the far wall.

Puller looked in that direction. The round had struck the dry-wall and driven into it, exposing a bit of the stud behind it.

Knox went on. “I fired a split second later. And I didn’t miss.”

“Why break in here? Do you have a warrant?”

“No.”

“Then nothing you found would have been admissible in court.”

“I’m not as concerned with the legal niceties, Puller. I have a job to do.”

“So you just walked in here and she took a shot at you. She had the element of surprise. She was a soldier. How’d she miss you at this range?”

“Because I saw her a split second before she fired. I kicked that chair at her, hit the floor, and fired from there. When they do the post they’ll confirm the trajectory.”

Puller looked at the overturned chair lying next to Macri’s body.

In the distance they could both hear the sirens coming.

“So if you had gone in first instead of me,” Knox continued with a definite edge to her voice, “you might be on the floor on your belly explaining to me how it all went down. Or maybe you might be dead.”

“No, I wouldn’t have broken into the place.”

“Well, I can’t take it back now.”

As the sirens drew closer Puller stepped to the window and looked out. It was an ambulance and two police cars.

Knox said, “So you’ve got control of the board, Puller. How are you going to play this?”

Puller muttered, “Shit.” Then he added, “Get up, Knox.”

She rose slowly and looked up at him. He handed her back her gun.

“I have to say I’m surprised,” she said. “I thought you’d let them throw the book at me.”

“I still might.”

“What do we tell the police?” she said. “I did break in here. I had a gun. It might look like Macri was just defending herself and her home. And I shot her.”

“We tell them the truth.”

“They might ding us for being here.”

“But you did knock and ring the bell first. And you did identify yourself and you had your creds out?”

“Absolutely. She knew who I was. And she still fired.”

“Okay, just follow my lead.”

The police were skeptical at first, but Puller’s demeanor and statement were unshakably professional, as were Knox’s. Their credentials carried great weight with the local police, who were well aware of what had happened at the DB. They took the agents’ statements. Then one of the cops said, looking down at Macri, “What about the body?”

“She’s an active-duty Army captain shot in her home. This is, without exception, a CID investigation. We’ll take charge of the scene. Everything will be preserved.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” said the older cop.

“Then you have your superiors call my superiors and they’ll get comfortable. For now, the body doesn’t leave the house and the crime scene is not touched.”

The cop finally nodded and pulled out his cell phone. “Way over my pay grade.”

An hour later the cops left and a CID forensics team from Leavenworth showed up, did an examination of the scene and the body, and then slipped the remains into a zippered body bag and rolled it a way on a gurney.

Puller had assisted the local CID agents with processing the scene, while Knox, after giving her statement – and under strict orders from Puller – sat in the other room.

When the CID agents had finished they left. Puller and Knox were alone in the house.

“Forensics will confirm everything I told you was true, Puller.”

“Forensics can do many things, but it can’t do that, Knox, not entirely.”

She said heatedly, “I almost got my head blown off. It was either her or me. What else could it have been?”

“That you came here to see Macri because she knew something incriminating. And you killed her to silence her.”

“Oh, so now you think I’m both in on whatever this is and also a killer?”

“I don’t know you, Knox. You just showed up on my doorstep. You sure as hell haven’t earned my trust.”

“Well, you haven’t earned mine either,” she shot back.

“So the fact that I didn’t let the cops or CID arrest you carries no weight with you? That I gave you your gun back? That I backed your story with them? That I haven’t slapped you in cuffs? None of that earned me even a bit of trust in your eyes?”

The anger quickly receded from her features and was replaced with embarrassment. “I appreciate that, Puller, I really do. Me being arrested would not be good.”

“Certainly not good for you. And whoever else is behind you at INSCOM. And that could include a lot of folks,” he said provocatively.