John Lescroart - Treasure Hunt

A silence hung on the line.

“What about the reward?” she asked.

“You’ll remember that in our interview, you said that if the information you provided proved useful to the investigation, you wanted to be sure you were in line to stake a claim to the reward? Well, it turns out it looks like there are going to be multiple claimants. You know Len Turner is administering the distribution?”

“Of course. I gave him my money, too, you might recall.”

“That’s right. Well, Mr. Turner thought, and I agree, that it would be worthwhile if the major potential claimants talked on the record with the inspectors present so there wouldn’t be any dispute later about the relative value of the respective contributions to solving the case. But where I don’t agree with Mr. Turner is that he didn’t seem to think that your information about Ms. Thorpe’s relationship with your husband and her subsequent firing on that last day rose to the level of real evidence.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “What could be more real than that?”

“Of course,” Hunt said. “That’s my feeling too. Which is why I thought you’d want to be down here to defend your position. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but I think you need to be aware that Mr. Carter corroborated the fact that your husband fired Ms. Thorpe on that last day, so he’ll be making a reward claim on much of the same information you gave us first.”

“That’s just not right.”

“No, ma’am, it’s not.”

“So where is this meeting? And what time?”

He told her, and then he hung up and looked around his kitchen table at the group he’d assembled-Alicia, Mickey, Al Carter, and Gina Roake to act as Alicia’s attorney should the need arise. “Well,” he said, “that’s number three. Two to go. Then Devin.”

“Sometimes it worries me, Wyatt,” Roake said, “how easily you manipulate, cheat, and lie.”

The comment was simply meant to break the tension, and to some degree it worked. At least it brought the beginning of a grin to Hunt’s face. “It’s a concern,” he said, “but I try not to let it get me down.”

Hunt said, “Pick up, Devin. It’s important.”

After a few seconds, the inspector’s voice came on. “In the middle of dinner, Wyatt, this better be good.”

“Good enough,” Hunt said. “What if I were to tell you I’ve found Alicia?”

“Have you?”

“I’m asking you. What if?”

“I’d say keep an eye on her until I can get to where she is and put some cuffs on her. Where is she?”

“You’d arrest her? Even without the DNA on the scarf?”

“We got that just before I went home today. It’s Como’s. So we got her.”

“Except, as it turns out, you still don’t know where she is.”

“But you do.”

“I never said that.”

“Don’t get wise, Wyatt. Where is she?”

“I could get her to come here.”

“Again. Where?”

“Here. Home. The warehouse.”

“Okay. So do that.”

“I will try.” Hunt paused. “Provided you promise you won’t arrest her.”

Juhle’s laugh exploded in the phone. “And why, pray, would I agree to that?”

“Because I’m also going to have your murderer.”

“You are, are you? And who’s that?”

“I could tell you, but it wouldn’t do me or Alicia any good.”

“She’s Alicia now, is she?”

“She’s also my client.”

“She’s what?”

“You heard me.”

“When did that happen?”

“That doesn’t matter either. Not to you. What matters is you promise you don’t arrest her.”

“Until when?”

“Until I get you the murderer.”

Another small bark of humor. “Well, I’m going to say ‘hell, no’ to that, Wyatt. I have evidence against Thorpe and if I see her, I’m going to arrest her.”

“Then all bets are off.”

Juhle paused for a long beat. “You’re saying you know who the killer is?”

“I am. I do. And I’m saying if you want to find out, you promise no arrest. End of story.”

“And what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“So we take Alicia downtown, then if you prove we’re wrong, we let her go.”

“Nice try, Dev. But what really happens is once you get her booked, it’s almost impossible to arrest anybody else. Why? Because not only have you just given your second suspect a built-in defense-‘Oh, it was Alicia Thorpe last week, Your Honor, but this week it’s really my client X who did it’-but also because a second arrest for the same crime makes you and Sarah both look stupid.”

“No, that wouldn’t-”

“Bullshit. Listen to me. You arrest her now, Alicia’s charged with specials”-multiple murder special circumstances-“and gets no bail. The DA says she can argue some other dude did it at her trial. But meanwhile, once Alicia’s in jail, your real killer is tipped to all the evidence and can make their own story tighter, if in fact they don’t leave town. That’s what really happens, Dev, and you damn well know it. So I can’t tell you who the murderer is. You’ll just say ‘thanks for playing’ and arrest my client. I’ve got to show you. And I can do that. But first I need your word. No arrest. Nonnegotiable.”

A long silence. Then, “Last, best, and only offer, Wyatt. You get your dog and pony show. I’ll come over, but if I do, somebody’s going to jail. I’m thinking it’s Thorpe, but I’ll give you a chance to convince me it’s someone else.” After another short pause, he asked, “Where is she now?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hunt said. “A secret place. Mickey found her. But the point is I’ve got him bringing her down here.”

“Why would she do that? Come down there?”

“Because Mickey’s convinced her this is the safest place she could be. She believes Mickey.”

“Shit.”

“You keep saying that.”

“You know why? It keeps being appropriate. Shit shit shit. What am I supposed to do about Sarah?”

“I’m not sure she could agree to the conditions.”

“So now I cut my partner out of it. I know you’re not a cop, Wyatt, but that kind of behavior is frowned upon down at the Hall.”

“Yeah, well, I appreciate that. But what’s happening is happening now. This is all the warning I can give you.”

Wyatt heard the soft exhale of resignation and decision. “Okay,” Juhle said. “Twenty minutes, half hour.”

“That ought to work,” Hunt said.

By eight-thirty, Hunt had the place arranged the way he wanted it, with a nice democratic circle of eleven folding chairs set up on his basketball court. In the end, he’d cajoled, connived, or otherwise convinced all of the principals to converge on his warehouse at nine o’clock so that, depending on what Hunt had told them, they could provide more detailed information, or argue for their portion of the reward, or fortify their alibis, or simply get caught up on the progress of the investigation to date.

Or, finally, in the case of Devin Juhle, to arrest the real murderer.

Now Hunt went back into the residential side, to his kitchen where Roake, Carter, Alicia, and Mickey remained seated at the table with a palpable air of tension surrounding them. “Almost time,” Hunt said lightly. His own nerves were stretched to the breaking point, but he couldn’t show that, not now. “Everybody still loose and ready to have some fun?”

In fact, nobody looked that way. They all looked like they’d been talking about deadly serious issues among themselves while he set up his chairs. Roake, the group’s obvious spokesperson, looked around the table, then up at him. “We’ve been thinking it might be better after all if Alicia wasn’t here, Wyatt.”

Hunt drew a short breath. “If she’s not here,” Hunt said in as reasonable a tone as he could dredge up, “she gets herself arrested anyplace they find her outside. Here I’ve got Devin’s word he won’t touch her.”