Body Copy - Michael Craven [39]
“That was smart, Marvin.”
“Is this part of the case you got from the beautiful woman, the one I’m happy to help with should you need assistance?”
“Yeah. This is related. A guy I talked to the other day is now checking me out. That’s my guess.”
Tremaine thinking, Tyler Wilkes wants to know what I know or what I want to know.
“Well,” Marvin said, “once I said ‘Insane,’ and he clearly indicated to me he didn’t know what I meant, the conver-120
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sation became very forced. He rolled up his window and drove off. I will say, to his credit, he was driving a superior machine.”
“Can you tell me what he looked liked?”
“Can I tell you what he looked liked!” Marvin said.
“Indeed. Thin, probably five-nine, bad skin, and dark hair.
Young-looking.”
Tremaine nodded and said, “Listen, Marvin, don’t sweat talking to that guy. This could end up helping me.”
Tremaine held up his beer and he and Marvin toasted.
“Largeness,” Marvin said.
Tremaine cooked himself a half-chicken with some aspara-gus and thought about what he had so far. He was going to play with Tyler Wilkes’s head a little, that was for sure, but he had to set it up a little more. Get Tyler a little more unsure of what’s going on, then surprise him. And the guy Tyler no doubt sent to look into him? Probably a young private eye in his silver Crown Vic trying to look and feel official. Tremaine thought, I’ll use him to help get Tyler worried, or more worried. And then maybe Tyler will tell me something about Roger Gale.
But right now, what was on Tremaine’s mind was Phillip Cook and Evelyn Gale. Tremaine understood that the murder was painful for them, something that they wanted behind them. Their emotions were not unique in that regard.
But, Tremaine thought, why were they so insistent that Roger Gale didn’t have an affair? Why do they care that much? And why did Phillip Cook make such a point of 121
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saying that Bill Peterson had determined there wasn’t an affair? That felt forced, like a kid on a playground giving his alibi. Like, I didn’t steal Jimmy’s lunch money, just ask Billy. Billy being the best friend of the accused.
But, more so, it seemed like a slip of the tongue. Tremaine remembered how just after Phillip said it he kind of paused and looked at him. Maybe Phillip said it before he got a chance to think about whether he wanted to make such a presentation out of who could back him up.
Maybe Bill Peterson knew something.
Phillip sure as hell didn’t want Tremaine talking to Peterson; he made that obvious. He came right out and asked him whether he was going to talk to the police. Tremaine could see, even in his goddamn glass eye, some worry.
So, next step, talk to Bill Peterson. Tremaine got online, looked for a plane ticket, a plane ticket to Atlanta. Got one, and a hotel, and a rental car, all with points off his plastic.
No money spent. He’d tell Nina later she didn’t need to know that a hunch was sending him thousands of miles away.
Yeah, that was the next step. Tremaine was going to visit Bill Peterson in person. The cop who’d moved, who had personally guaranteed Phillip Cook there was no infidelity. Tremaine knew he had to go to Atlanta. He couldn’t just call because if Bill Peterson was going to tell him anything interesting, it would have to be face to face. If he just dialed him up, Peterson would either avoid him or just simply say, nope, everything he knew, Tremaine could find in the good old police report.
Tremaine threw his dishes in the sink, drank a beer while he cleaned them. Now his mind went somewhere 122
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else in the case. To the person who gave him the business in the first place. Nina, Nina Aldeen. Man, those sad, pretty eyes. He thought, wonder what she’s doing over there in her cool Venice house with all the books. She’s probably writing her own book, back there in her office, by the back deck. Tremaine, done with the dishes, stood there for a minute, the warm water running over his hands.
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The next morning,