David Baldacci - The Last Mile

“‘By valor and arms,’” said Decker.

“You read Latin?”

“No, I just remember seeing it somewhere.”

McClellan put down the mug. “So what brings you folks here?” He gazed around until he stopped on Mars. “Now, I know you. But you’re not FBI.”

“No, I’m Melvin Mars.”

“Damn, yes you are. Watched you play football when you were in college. Now, I’m an Ole Miss grad, played ball for ’em too. Glad I never had to tackle you. Like a Mack truck with a Ferrari engine. Helluva player, son.”

“Thanks.”

Decker closed his eyes while McClellan was talking, and then a light seemed to click on in his head as he made the relevant connection.

Ole Miss.

He opened his eyes.

McClellan said, “And I heard about your, um, situation. Glad you’re out now. Seemed like quite an injustice.”

“I saw it that way,” said Mars tersely.

McClellan swiveled his attention back to Bogart. “So, anything you can tell me?”

“We’re just looking into some things from the past that may have bearing on a more recent case.”

McClellan nodded. “Look, I’m not going to waste your time, Agent Bogart. I’m busy and I know you’re busy. I know you’ve been making inquiries about the bombing of the church that took place here in 1968. As you know, no one was ever arrested. Damn frustrating. When I joined the force many moons ago I had a go at it, just like everybody on the Cain Police Force seems to do.”

“And did you make any progress?”

“Not a lick, but it wasn’t for lack of tryin’. It’s a black mark on the town’s reputation, I can tell you that. Would like nothin’ better than to solve the thing, but after all this time?” He shrugged. “So, do you see any daylight?”

Bogart shrugged too. “It’s early days yet.”

McClellan looked at Mars again. “And since Mr. Mars is here, am I to take it that he is in some way connected?”

“That remains to be seen. We have a long way to go and other stops to make.”

“Where might they be?” asked McClellan.

“Not in Mississippi. This is a multistate inquiry. I can tell you that if we require any assistance in Mississippi, you’ll be the first one we call.”

“Well, a man can’t ask for more than that.”

He rose and so did the others. They shook hands again.

McClellan lingered the longest on Mars. “Glad you got a second chance, young man. Sure you’ll make the most of it. Hope the future is good to you. Better’n the past. Just keep looking forward. Not back. You’ll do fine.”

Mars looked at him strangely but nodded.

They walked out of the police station and back to their car.

Jamison shuddered. “Okay, he was polite enough so why do I feel like I just had a powwow with a sociopath?”

Mars said, “And he wants me to focus on the future, not the past.”

“I think that particular message was meant for all of us,” said Decker.

“And he also made it clear that nothing happens in this town that he doesn’t know about,” said Bogart.

Jamison said, “And Pierce will have told him what we were asking about. He’s probably going to send over some thugs to grill poor Mrs. Ryan and she’ll tell them about the Three Musketeers reference. Then he’ll know he’s in the crosshairs.”

Bogart said, “I might need to call in some more agents. I’m feeling exposed here.”

“We shouldn’t have come in so hard,” said Jamison. “But then again, we didn’t know one of the major players was the freaking police chief.”

“And maybe we turn that to our advantage,” said Decker.

“How?” asked Bogart.

“Let’s send in the dog to flush the birds.”

“How do you propose to do that?” asked Bogart.

Decker said, “I’ll meet you at the hotel.” He turned and walked back into the police station.

A few minutes later Decker sat across from McClellan in the latter’s office.

The man looked him over. “Don’t take this the wrong way, son, but you look a little out of shape to be in the FBI.”

“You should have seen me before I went on the diet.” Decker fell silent, studying the policeman.

“Is there something else you’d care to discuss?” asked McClellan. “I take it your friends have headed on?”

“They’ve got other things to check out. But I thought I’d come back and talk to you.”

“Really? About what?”

“The Four Musketeers?”

“Come again?”

“The Four Musketeers?”

“You mean the Three Musketeers, don’t you? Like in the story? Or am I missing something?”

“I was thinking more local. And I was counting Charles Montgomery as the fourth Musketeer.”

“Who?”

“You played football with him at Ole Miss, didn’t you? Because he was on the team at the same time you were.”

“Couldn’t tell you. Long time ago. Memories fade.”

“But you don’t have to worry about him. He’s dead. Executed by the state of Alabama. But I’m sure you knew that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I might have misspoken.”

“Do tell.”

“The Three Musketeers, like it said in the Cain High School yearbook. You, Danny Eastland, and Thurman Huey. You guys ran the veer, two halfbacks and one quarterback. Huey was the QB, you and Eastland were the bangers. Did it work well for you?”

“Danny was more of a scatback. I did the hard running. But we won two state championships in a row. And in Mississippi, football rests only one rung below going to church as a state pastime.”

“I’m sure. So anyway, the Three Musketeers. Friends for life.”

“Is this going somewhere that I can understand?”

“Try this one on. Was it your idea to have Montgomery drive by drunk so the cops on duty would have an excuse to give chase and let you boys do your little dirty deed? Or was that the QB Huey talking? Because that was Montgomery’s role: the drunk driver who diverted the cops from guarding the NAACP office in Tuscaloosa and then later at the church here in Cain.”

McClellan gave him a pitying look. “You’re speaking gibberish, I’m afraid. Do I need to check you for being intoxicated?”

Decker sat back and assumed a deliberately thoughtful expression, though he had very little to think about, actually. He knew exactly how this was going to play out.

“Now, it might be that Roy Mars, or whatever his name was, was the fourth Musketeer, not Montgomery, though Chucky did provide the distraction at both bombing sites. You would have known Roy under his real name, not the fake one. His first name begins with an ‘A’ and his last name begins with a ‘C.’ That’s all I know.” Decker paused before delivering the hammer blow. “He didn’t tell me what his real name was when he met with me a short time ago.”

The only discernible reaction by the police chief to this information was a slight facial tic that Decker had not observed previously because it wasn’t there.

Decker pretended to look confused. “I’m sorry, maybe you didn’t know he was still alive. The stuff back in Texas? All smoke and mirrors. Cost Melvin twenty years of his life for something he didn’t do.”

McClellan licked his lips. “So you’re saying this Roy person is alive?”

“Very much. He stuck a knife against my throat while I was sleeping. Very formidable guy. Kill you without blinking. But then you knew that he might still be alive. Or at least you had to assume that when Montgomery came forward to get Melvin out of prison. The only reason he would have done that is if Roy had come forward and bribed him. And Roy couldn’t do that if Roy was dead. The Three Muskeeters weren’t going to pay a dime to get Melvin out of prison.”