Дэвид Балдаччи - Walk the Wire

“Is that your car in the parking lot?” asked Decker. “ ‘Heaven’?”

“Yes.” She smiled.

“What?” asked Decker.

“Remember I talked about barter? Well, the tires on the Mustang came from Hal Parker in payment for us burying his wife.”

“I guess people do what they have to do.”

“Will this have to come out, I mean, Caroline and me?”

“Lots of gay people live their lives openly and freely now,” said Jamison.

“Yes, but not here, I think.”

“Look,” said Decker, “we can’t guarantee anything. We’re trying to solve a series of crimes. We have to go where the evidence takes us.”

“I guess I can understand that. Will you be talking to Caroline, too?”

“Probably.”

“Can you tell her that I didn’t tell you about us? That you figured it out?”

“If it’s important to you,” said Jamison.

“It is. Very important.”

“I can see that,” said Decker quietly.

Decker made a brief stop at the police station to look at an old report. Then he and Jamison drove to the offices of Dawson Enterprises, located in a building in downtown London.

“Why are we here?” Jamison asked.

“To learn stuff we don’t know,” replied Decker cryptically.

They were taken to the office of the firm’s CFO. His name was Abner Crutchfield, a small, dapper man in his late fifties with resolute features and a deep voice. He was dressed in an open-collared shirt, slacks, and polished tasseled loafers.

“Terrible business with Mr. Dawson and Mr. McClellan,” he began. “I guess you’re working on their cases.”

“We are,” said Decker. “We’re looking for motives, and we’d like to know about the business deal that they concluded right before their deaths.”

“All right. I’ll certainly tell you what I can,” said Crutchfield cautiously.

Decker glanced at Jamison before saying, “I was surprised that Dawson would sell out. He was in the midst of a buying spree, or so I’ve been told. Even sold his daughter’s restaurant out from under her.”

“Yes, yes, that surprised many of us here.”

“Was it a large amount that McClellan paid?”

“I can’t get into specific numbers, but it was into the nine figures.”

“Wow,” said Jamison.

“Yes, indeed,” commented Crutchfield. “Quite a fortune.”

“When did you first learn that McClellan was going to buy him out?” asked Jamison.

“About two months ago. We worked on the deal ever since then in absolute secrecy. And finally closed it. All the docs were signed, sealed, and delivered. Money already wired out and ownership transferred. So McClellan really owns the whole town now.” He paused and looked embarrassed. “I mean he did.”

“So now his son will own the town?” said Jamison.

“I’m not privy to that information. I know Mr. McClellan’s CFO quite well, though, and he never mentioned that the father had cut the son out, so I assume that Shane will inherit.”

“He doesn’t seem to care that much about business,” noted Decker.

“I know that’s the general rule of thought around here. But can I give you my opinion?”

“Please do.”

“I’ve known Shane since he was a little boy. He adored his mother and she loved him, but Stuart was totally wrapped up in business. He showed very little affection to either of them.”

“Go on,” prompted Decker.

“Shane was very popular in high school. Very athletic.”

“He said he and Joe Kelly made a potent QB-receiver combo.” Crutchfield smiled warmly. “That’s right. They were always together, those three, including Caroline, I mean. In fact, Joe was the Homecoming King and Caroline was the Homecoming Queen at junior prom. And then senior year it was Caroline and Shane as Queen and King.”

“We didn’t know that,” said Decker.

“But then they graduated. Caroline went to college and Shane went off to war. Joe joined the police force. Then Shane came home. His mother had died. He joined the business, reluctantly, I think. His father never gave him any praise, never an ounce of encouragement. Just the opposite, in fact. But — and this is based on what my CFO friend at McClellan’s told me — Shane is actually very smart and detail oriented. I think you would have to be to survive a war. He actually did good work. And now with his father off his back, I think he will run the company very well. That’s my two cents, anyway.”

“And it was a very helpful two cents,” said Decker. “One more question: Did Caroline know that her father was selling out?”

Crutchfield’s expression changed. “That isn’t an easy question to answer.”

“Just whatever you can tell us.”

“Over the last year or so I’ve sensed some uneasiness between the two of them. Nothing too serious. But Mr. Dawson came to me one day and said he believed that Caroline was growing weary of London. That’s when he began reaching out to McClellan’s camp.”

“Did he say why he felt that way?” asked Decker.

“No. And I didn’t press him on it. That was his own business, not mine. The deal went rather quickly after that.”

“Maddie’s Restaurant?” said Decker. “A tribute to her mother?”

“Yes. She and her mother were very close. Do you know about Junior Dawson?”

Jamison said, “We know he killed himself.”

“Yes, years ago, after coming out as gay to his parents.” He shook his head sadly. “It was very tragic.”

“His father didn’t care for that ‘alternative’ lifestyle, I guess,” said Jamison.

“Caroline loved her brother but had a real problem with her father because of the way he treated Junior, especially in public. And Maddie felt the same as Caroline. It drove a wedge between him and his wife, for sure. In fact, if she hadn’t died in that tragic accident, I’m not sure they would still be together.”

“But they were moving to France at the time,” said Decker.

“Yes, well, all I can say is that wherever they went, I’m not sure they would have stayed together.”

“Did you ever notice that Stuart McClellan might have been infatuated with Maddie Dawson?” asked Decker.

“Stuart? Well, I didn’t know him all that well. But my take on that man was that the only person he was infatuated with was himself.”

They left Crutchfield’s office and headed back to the SUV. Along the way, Decker said quietly, “You know, Alex, sometimes the cases that seem the most complex are the most simple.”

“I would never call this case simple.”

“Oh, but it is, very simple. We were the ones making it complicated. But we had help there, from some unusual sources.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we got played big-time. Now it’s our turn.”

Later, Decker and Jamison walked into Joe Kelly’s office at the police station.

He looked at them. “Where have you two been lately? I’ve had some thoughts on Ben Purdy and where he might be.”

“Forget about Purdy,” said Decker. “We need a search warrant and we need it now.”

“For who and what?”

Decker told him and Kelly’s eyes widened at the answer. “Can you tell me why?” he asked.

“I can tell you enough to get the judge to issue the warrant. For the rest, I’d much prefer to show you.”

Later that evening, with a warrant in hand, they drove over to a large, well-kept house on the periphery of downtown London and knocked on the door.

“The car isn’t in the driveway,” said Decker.

“She may not be home,” said Kelly.

“Well, the warrant allows us to enter,” said Jamison.

Decker picked the front door lock and they went inside.