Дэвид Балдаччи - The Fallen

“Don’t you check for alibis?”

“We do.”

“Well, does John have an alibi for when those people were killed?”

“The timelines were pretty broad on the four. But we’ll check that. Will you be providing him alibis?”

“Depends on whether I was with him at the time in question, doesn’t it?”

“Yes it does.”

“You don’t believe he did it, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. It matters what the facts are.” He cocked his head at her. “Why do you stay here? You could own a bar in lots of places.”

“Town’s coming back. You saw that on the drive here.”

“Yes, but you said it was only coming back in parts.”

“Better than not at all. I’ve kind of studied the economics of places like this. In any downturn in a small town you always see mom-and-pop operations start up because people lose their jobs, but not their spirit. Local restaurants, fitness centers, tattoo parlors, pawnshops, mani-pedi places, local movie theaters, bakeries, pet shops, stuff like that. People get by, they do what they have to do to survive. You look at Pittsburgh. They turned it around. From steel mill town to a health and financial services kind of place.”

“Baronville is not Pittsburgh.”

“We don’t need to be Pittsburgh. And we have the fulfillment center. It’s helped my business, I can tell you that. I’m up about thirty percent year over year for each of the last three years.”

“Because after people work their butts off in that place, they need a drink?”

“Bingo. And food because they’re too tired to cook for themselves.”

“All the development we saw heading over here, that’s all mom-and-pop stuff? Looks like it involves more money than that.”

She frowned. “I’ve lost several friends to overdoses. But the one good thing was they had life insurance. Their families got the money after they died, and many of them have opened businesses with it, or used some of the proceeds to invest in the town. The renovation of this building came about because several beneficiaries decided to pool their funds to get it done. And now it’s almost all sold.”

“That’s great, turning a negative into a positive. But six unsolved murders. That’s not good for the town.”

Her grin faded. “Six?”

“Two more in an empty house. I found those.”

“I think I read something about that. No real details, though. Can you enlighten me?”

“No, I really can’t.”

“Are they related to the other four?”

“No idea.”

“You seem to have far more questions than answers,” she noted.

“That’s usually the case this early on. You ever been to Costa’s place here?”

“Once. He had a dinner there to drum up banking relationships.”

“You ever ask him why he would leave New York to come here?”

“I did, actually. He was a good-looking guy, obviously smart. He had money and a good career there.”

“So, what did he say?”

“Something about following his dream.”

“What kind of dream?”

“I didn’t push it and he didn’t elaborate.”

“Did he know Baron?”

“I know you believe that he did, but not that I know of. I don’t think John has much use for banks.”

“But he has a mortgage on his home with that bank.”

“Does he?” she said innocently.

“Yeah, he does. But he failed to mention that to me.”

Decker pulled the photo of Baron and the Little League team from his pocket and held it up. “You ever see this in Costa’s condo?”

She took it and looked at it. “Yeah, it was on a shelf with a bunch of others.”

“Baron was the coach.”

“I can see , Decker,” she said sharply. “He led the team to the state championship and then got canned by the powers that be.”

“He told us that. Do you know why?”

“I think it made him look too good and they couldn’t stand that.”

She caught the writing on the back. “Stanley Nottingham. Who’s that?”

“I don’t know. You ever heard of him?”

She shook her head. “It’s funny, though.”

“What is?”

She handed the photo back. “I only know this because John mentioned it to me once. Even showed me a picture.”

“Of what?”

“No, of whom.”

“Stanley Nottingham?” said Decker, looking perplexed.

“No.” She took a moment to search her memory. “Not Stanley. Yeah, it was Nigel. Can you believe that? Nigel?”

“You’ve lost me.”

“John showed me a photo of Nigel Nottingham . That’s why I remembered it. Don’t hear those two names much anymore. I mean, can you get any more British than that? But I guess it fit.”

“You’ve still lost me,” groused Decker.

“Nigel Nottingham was Baron’s butler.”

“John’s butler?”

“No! John can’t afford a butler. I’m talking about the original John Baron. He apparently wanted a full-fledged British butler, and Nigel Nottingham fit the bill.”

Decker jumped up from his seat. “I gotta go, thanks.”

He was out the front door of the condo before Cindi even got to her feet.

“But, Decker, I drove you over here,” she called after him as the door slammed shut.

“What in the world are you doing? Why are you packing?”

Jamison was standing in the doorway of Decker’s bedroom as he stuffed some clothes and his toiletry bag into his duffel.

“I gotta go somewhere.”

“Go where? Back to D.C.?”

“No, New Jersey.”

She gaped. “New Jersey? Why?”

“I’ve got a lead. A good one. Just happened a bit ago. From Cindi Riley.”

She looked at him incredulously. “Decker, Frank’s funeral is the day after tomorrow. And you’re leaving? There’s so much to do.”

“I’ll be back in time. I’m leaving now. I’ll get there early in the morning, do my thing, and be back late tomorrow.”

“But my sisters are here now. And Frank’s parents and siblings will be here in the morning. I thought you could pick his parents up from the bus station. And one of his sisters too, she’s coming in by train. The others are driving directly here.”

Decker stopped his packing. “I’m sure your sisters will help out. And just so you know, I have to take the rental.”

“Wait a minute, you’re driving to New Jersey?”

“Only way, really. I looked at flights. First one out of Pittsburgh is ten o’clock tomorrow morning, and it isn’t even direct. I have to connect through freaking Charlotte, if you can believe that. And there’s no train schedule that works and no bus service that does either. The quickest way is to drive it. I can be there in under seven hours.”

“Okay, but you do realize what time it is? When exactly do you plan to sleep?”

“I’m good. The adrenaline is pumping and I’ll get some shut-eye when I get there.”

“Decker, this is not smart.”

“I’ve got to go, Alex. I found out something tonight that I need to check out.”

She sat down on the bed. “You said you had a lead from Cindi Riley. What is it?”

He told her about Stanley and Nigel Nottingham and finding the name and address on the back of the photo in Costa’s condo.

He handed the photo to her and she looked it over.

“So let me get this straight — this Nigel Nottingham was Baron the First’s butler ?”

“Yeah. And I’m betting Stanley is his, I don’t know, great-grandson or something. That’s why Todd didn’t find a connection to Baronville. He only went back as far as Stanley Nottingham’s parents. He lived in the same building as Bradley Costa in New York. They were neighbors.”

She handed back the photo. “So, what exactly is your theory?”