Stuart Woods - Palindrome

Williams stretched. "Well, I guess that's about it." Ramsey made to get up. "Oh, just a couple more questions, Bake." Ramsey sat down again. His lawyer was looking bored.

"Bake, did you ever hit Mary Alice Taylor?"

"No, of course not."

The lawyer was suddenly alert. "I don't think that's an appropriate question, Sergeant."

"I think it is. Never, Bake? You never slapped her, even?"

"No, I don't do that sort of thing."

"Bake, in July of this year, did you beat up your wife and put her in the hospital?"

"Now just a minute," Hoyt said, half-rising.

"Answer the question, Bake. Did you beat your wife nearly to death?"

"I don't have to take this kind of stuff," Ramsey said, rising.

"Let the record show that Ramsey suddenly refuses to answer questions," Williams said to the stenographer. "What would you say, Bake, if I told you that I can produce your ex-wife as a witness, and that she will testify that you beat her so badly that she had to have major reconstructive cranial surgery? And that her doctor will testify that she could have died from her injuries? What would you say to that?"

"This interview is concluded," Henry Hoyt said.

"Oh, just before you go, Mr. Hoyt, let me show you and Bake something." He reached into the desk drawer and took out the bagged stake. "The medical examiner removed this from Mary Alice Taylor's rectum during the autopsy last night. The man who killed her did that to her." He was trying not to shout.

Hoyt blanced at at the sight of the stake.

"Stop this, Sergeant, or I'll report your conduct to your captain!" The lawyer had gone pale, and sweat was starting to run from his face.

"It's not my conduct that's in question, Counselor, it's your client's conduct!"

"We're getting out of here right this minute, Baker," Hoyt said, grabbing his client's elbow and steering him from the office. "Good day, Sergeant; your superiors will be hearing from me."

"Go on, get him out of here," Williams said, then sank back into the chair.

"I got all that, Lee, anything else?" the stenographer asked.

"Cut it at Ramsey's refusal to answer, and get it typed up as soon as you can," Williams said, trying to calm himself.

Captain Haynes appeared. "I was next door," he said. "You kind of lost it there at the end, didn't you?"

"Sorry about that, Cap. At least I waited until the end."

"You going to get this guy?"

"You better believe it!"

"Whatever you need, Lee. I want him, too."

"I want an officer to confirm Ramsey's story with the assistant coach and two players."

"Okay. Ramsey was in Miami, though. I saw him on TV Sunday, on the sidelines at the game."

"And I want to go to Miami. I caught him lying in LA; maybe I can catch him out in Miami, too."

"Go. What's your theory?"

"The girl was found at a general-aviation airport. I think Ramsey got somebody to fly him to Atlanta on Friday night; he killed the woman, then flew back to Miami; it's the only thing that makes sense. I want somebody checking that out from this end; I'll do it in Miami."

"Don't spend your own money this time. I'll sign the chit."

"You think we're going to start getting heat from the Bobcats' owners about this?"

"Not yet; they won't want it in the papers. When it comes out, then they'll yell bloody murder."

Williams managed a smile. "That's appropriate." He didn't feel like smiling, though; this was becoming personal. The sight of that stake had made it impossible to keep any detachment. He wanted Bake Ramsey.

Liz found Germaine in her office at the inn, adding up receipts. "Come on in, kiddo, and sit yourself down," Germaine said. "You look beat; didn't you sleep last night?"

"Off and on," Liz said, sinking into a chair.

"You still thinking about your discovery at Lake Whitney?"

Liz nodded. "Can't get it off my mind."

"I can't get it off my guests' minds," Germaine said, giving up the calculator and turning in her chair to face Liz. "If I'd let them, they'd all be trooping up there to take pictures of the gator. I've had to tell my girls who conduct the nature tours not to let anybody out of the van when they're near the lake. All I need is to have a guest eaten."

Liz managed a smile. "From their reaction to Jimmy's demise, it sounds like having a guest eaten would be good for business."

Germaine laughed. "Maybe you're right." She jotted a note on a pad. "Choose guest to send to Lake Whitney on foot. I've got just the one, too; he sent the wine back last night; I had to drink it myself, and now I'm hung over."

"Poor Germaine."

"And that's not the worst of it. Ron went back to school yesterday, and I'm already horny. What am I going to do?"

"Poor, poor Germaine! Hung over and horny."

"I can see I'm not going to get any sympathy from somebody who's so well supplied with a man. How is my little brother, anyway? I haven't seen him for days."

"I'm not sure," Liz replied.

"You haven't seen him either?"

"I saw him last night, but I'm not sure how he is. It was the first time I've seen him depressed."

"Well, you're one up on me; I've never seen either of them depressed. They've always been the happiest people I know."

"Germaine, Keir's got me worried about something, and I don't know who else to ask about it but you."

"Shoot. I'll help if I can."

"It's something he said to me last night. He said he couldn't love somebody without destroying something else."

Germaine looked astonished. "Keir said that?"

"He did."

"I've never heard either Keir or Hamish say anything of the sort, and if I heard it from anybody else but you, I wouldn't believe it. Certainly it has no foundation in any fact I'm aware of."

"There's something else. He said it in connection with Jimmy; it was almost as if he were saying he had something to do with Jimmy's death." Germaine said nothing, just looked at her.

"Do you think Keir is capable of… I mean, he was very upset about your grandfather's refusal to make a will-he said that if Angus died intestate, Jimmy would automatically inherit a chunk of the island."

Germaine looked as if she was trying to decide how to respond. "No," she said finally, "I don't think Keir could do that, no matter how much he hated Jimmy. He's right about the line of inheritance, though."

"Then what was he talking about?"

"I think you'd better screw up your courage and ask him."

"I don't think I have that much courage."

"Then you'd better learn to live with it."

Liz sighed. "There's something else. I think I may have contributed to… whatever is bothering Keir. There was something I knew that I didn't tell him until last night. I haven't told you or Hamish, either, even though Angus didn't really ask me not to."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Angus invited me to dinner awhile back-right after his lawyer was here with the congressman and the Forestry Service people. After dinner, he produced a will and asked me to witness it." Germaine's eyes grew wide.

"He's made a will, then? You're sure?"

"I'm sure. He told me that he had made it himself, without his lawyer's help, and that he was of sound mind and all that, and that he wanted me to witness it."

Germaine leaned forward in her chair. "What did it say?"

"I don't know. I only saw the signature page. He did say, though, that he had arranged things so that Jimmy wouldn't be able to get his hands on any of the island."

"Well, that's a moot point, now. The important thing is that he's made the will, although with Jimmy out of the picture, it probably won't make much difference. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I was worried that might seem to be meddling in your family business."

"You aren't meddling; you just did what he asked you to. It was a perfectly straightforward thing to do."