Tom Clancy - Without Remorse

'I don't think I'm supposed to say where. I'm not supposed to know that.'

'What do you mean by that?' the cop asked in surprise.

'I don't think I'm supposed to say, sorry.' The way she answered the question showed sincerity rather than evasion.

What the hell did that mean? There was no answering that one, and Ryan decided to go on. 'Someone named Sandy called the Brown house in Pittsburgh. It was you, wasn't it?'

'Officer,' Sarah said, 'I'm not sure I understand why you're asking all these questions.'

'I'm trying to develop some information, and I want you to tell your friend that he needs to talk with me.'

'This is a criminal investigation?'

'Yes, it is.'

'And you're asking us questions,' Sarah observed. 'My brother is a lawyer. Should I ask him to come here? You seem to be asking us what we know about some murders. You're making me nervous. I have a question - are any of us under suspicion of anything?'

'No, but your friend is.' If there was anything Ryan didn't need now, it was to have an attorney present.

'Wait a minute,' Sam said. 'If you think John might have done something wrong, and you want us to find him for you, you're saying that you think we know where he is, right? Doesn't that make us possible... helpers, accessories is the word, isn't it?'

Are you? Ryan would have liked to ask. He decided on, 'Did I say that?'

'I've never had questions like this before, and they make me nervous,' the surgeon told his wife. 'Call your brother.'

'Look, I have no reason to believe that any of you has done anything wrong. I do have reason to believe that your friend has. What I'm telling you is this: you'll be doing him a favor by telling him to call me.'

'Who's he supposed to have killed?' Sam pressed.

'Some people who deal drugs.'

'You know what I do?' Sarah asked sharply. 'What I spend most of my time on here, you know what it is?'

'Yes, ma'am, I do. You work a lot with addicts.'

'If John's really doing that, maybe I ought to buy him a gun!'

'Hurts when you lose one, doesn't it?' Ryan asked quietly, setting her up.

'You bet it does. We're not in this business to lose patients.'

'How did it feel to lose Doris Brown?' She didn't reply, but only because her intelligence stopped her mouth from reacting as it wanted to. 'He brought her to you for help, didn't he? And you and Mrs O'Toole here worked very hard to clean her up. You think I'm condemning you for that? But before he dropped her off with you, he killed two people. I know it. They were probably two of the people who murdered Pamela Madden, and those were his real targets. Your friend Kelly is a very tough guy, but he's not as smart as he thinks he is. If he comes in now, it's one thing. If he makes us catch him, it's something else. You tell him that. You'll be doing him a favor, okay? You'll be doing yourselves a favor, too. I don't think you've broken the law to this point. Do anything for him now except what I've told you, and you might be. I don't usually warn people this way,' Ryan told them sternly. 'You people aren't criminals. I know that. The thing you did for the Brown girl was admirable, and I'm sorry it worked out the way it did. But Kelly is out there killing people, and that's wrong, okay? I'm telling you that just in case you might have forgotten something along the way. I don't like druggies either. Pamela Madden, the girl on the fountain, that's my case. I want those people in a cage; I want to watch them walk into the gas chamber. That's my job, to see that justice happens. Not his, mine. Do you understand?'

'Yes, I think we do,' Sam Rosen answered, thinking about the surgical gloves he'd given Kelly. It was different now. Back then he'd been distant from things - emotionally close to the terrible parts, yet far away from what his friend was doing, approving it as though reading a news article on a ballgame. It was different now, but he was involved. 'Tell me, how close are you to getting the people who killed Pam?'

'We know a few things,' Ryan answered without realizing that with his answer, he'd blown it after coming so close.

Oreza was back at his desk, the part of his work that he hated, and one reason he worried about striking for chief, which would entail having his own office, and becoming part of 'management' instead of just being a boat-driver. Mr English was on leave, and his second-in-command, a chief, was off seeing to something or other, leaving him as senior man present - but it was his job anyway. The petty officer searched on his desk for the card and dialed the number.

'Homicide.'

'Lieutenant Ryan, please.'

'He's not here.

'Sergeant Douglas?'

'He's in court today.'

'Okay, I'll call back.' Oreza hung up. He looked at the clock. Pushing four in the afternoon - he'd been at the station since midnight. He pulled open a drawer and started filling out the forms accounting for the fuel he'd burned up today, making the Chesapeake Bay safe for drunks who owned boats. Then he planned to get home, get dinner, and get some sleep.

The problem was making sense out of what she said. A physician was called in from his office across the street, and diagnosed her problem as barbiturate intoxication, which wasn't exactly news, and then went on to say that they'd just have to wait for the stuff to work its way out of her system, for which two opinions he'd charged the county twenty dollars. Talking to her for several hours had only made her at turns amused and annoyed, but her story hadn't changed, either. Three people dead, bang bang bang. It was less funny to her now. She'd started remembering what Burt was like, and that talk was quite foul.

'If this girl was any higher she'd be up on the moon with the astronauts,' the Captain thought.

'Three dead people on a boat somewhere,' Trooper Freeland repeated. 'Names and everything.'

'You believe it?'

'Story stays the same, doesn't it?'

'Yeah.' The Captain looked up. 'You like to fish out there. What's it sound like to you, Ben?'

'Like around Bloodsworth Island.'

'We'll hold her overnight on public drunkenness... we have her dead-bang on possession, right?'

'Cap'n, all I had to do was ask. She handed the stuff to me.'

'Okay, process her all the way through.'

'And then, sir?'

'Like helicopter rides?'

He picked a different marina this time. It turned out to be pretty easy, with so many boats always out fishing or partying, and this one had plenty of guest slips for transient boats which in the summer season plied up and down the coast, stopping off on the way for food and fuel and rest much as motorists did. The dockmaster watched him move in expertly to his third-largest guest slip, which didn't always happen with the owners of the larger cruisers. He was more surprised to see the youth of the owner.

'How long you plan to be here?' the man asked, helping with the lines.

'Couple of days. Is that okay?'

'Sure.'

'Mind if I pay cash?'

'We honor cash,' the dockmaster assured him.

Kelly peeled off the bills and announced that he'd be sleeping aboard this night. He didn't say what would be happening the next day.

Stalking

'We missed something, Em,' Douglas announced at eight-ten in the morning.

'What was it this time?' Ryan asked. Missing something wasn't exactly a new happening in their business.

'How they knew she was in Pittsburgh. I called that Sergeant Meyer, had 'em check the long-distance charges on the house phone. None, not a single outgoing call for the last month.'

The detective lieutenant stubbed out his cigarette. 'You have to assume that our friend Henry knew where she was from. He had two girls get loose from him, he probably took the time to ask where they were from. You're right,' Ryan said after a second's thought. 'He probably assumed she was dead.'