Killing the Blues - Michael Brandman [50]
“Miss Miller,” she said.
“Okay,” Jesse said. “What can I do for you, Miss Miller?”
“It’s about my boarder.”
“Your boarder?”
“Yes,” she said. “Donald Johnson.”
“What about Donald Johnson,” Jesse said.
“He’s strange,” she said.
“In what way?”
“He never goes out during the day. He only goes at night.”
“At night?”
“Yes. When he thinks I’m asleep, he goes out the back door.”
Jesse leaned toward Miss Miller.
“How long has he been boarding with you, Miss Miller?”
“Nearly a month,” she said. “He told me he was here for vacation. He’s from Kansas.”
“Would you be able to identify him from a photograph,” Jesse said.
“Perhaps,” she said. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be, though.”
Jesse asked Suitcase to bring in the photo of Rollo Nurse. He handed it to Miss Miller, who looked at it closely. First she looked at it with her heavy-duty glasses on, then with them off.
“Is this man Donald Johnson,” Jesse said.
“I think so,” she said. “Yes. I think so.”
53
As soon as Agatha Miller left the house, Rollo sensed that something was wrong. The voices were raised. They had become insistent.
He packed his belongings and slipped out of the house.
He left the neighborhood and quickly walked to the nearby park. Certain no one had noticed him, he disappeared into the brush and settled down to wait for dark.
Some weeks earlier he had made a safe place for himself in the deep woods on the outskirts of town. He had dug out a small area in a bushy glen. He purchased some used camping gear, gathered a few supplies, and stowed them all in the clearing. Once darkness descended, he would leave the park and head there. He would hide out and wait for the appropriate time to make his final move on Jesse Stone.
He throbbed with excitement. It had all gone so smoothly. The voices hadn’t led him astray. Soon he would swoop down and destroy Jesse Stone, just as Jesse Stone had destroyed him. In the end, he would still be alive. And Jesse Stone wouldn’t.
Jesse followed Agatha Miller to her home. He was accompanied by Suitcase and Perkins.
She ushered Jesse and Suitcase inside. Then she pointed Perkins to the back of the house. All three officers had their weapons drawn.
Miss Miller showed Jesse and Suitcase to Rollo’s room, then she left the house at Jesse’s instruction.
Jesse took up a position alongside the door to Rollo’s room. Suitcase was behind him in the kitchen.
“Rollo, this is Jesse Stone,” he said. “Open the door and come out with your hands above your head.”
There was no response.
Jesse repeated the instruction.
Still no response.
He tried the handle of the door. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open and dove inside. He hit the floor and rolled to a sitting position, his pistol in his hand.
The room was empty.
Jesse checked the bathroom. It, too, was empty. He called to both Suitcase and Perkins.
They carefully searched the room, but Rollo had stripped it of his personal effects. All he left behind was the photo of himself that had been circulated around town, a copy of which he had placed on the night table.
The three officers looked at one another.
“What’s next,” Suitcase said.
“Beats me,” Jesse said.
Jesse called Gino from his cell phone.
“Jesse Stone,” Gino said, when he picked up the call. “As we say in gangland, how may I help you?”
“Gangland?”
“A euphemism.”
“Do you offer a retirement policy,” Jesse said.
“Excuse me?”
“You know, a policy that allows gangland members to hang them up, so to speak.”
“I’m not certain I’m following you, Jesse Stone,” Gino said.
“Let’s say there was someone who worked on the technical side of things, who wanted to take the opportunity of his benefactor’s recent demise to quit the business. Get out of the game.”
“I’m listening,” Gino said.
“Might there be unfortunate consequences as a result of such an action?”
“How about we get to the point,” Gino said. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“Would you or any of your associates come after such a person, were he to voluntarily retire,” Jesse said.
“Would he involve himself with a competing