Patriot games - Tom Clancy [207]
"Could I have your names, please?"
"I'm Robert Newton and this here's my son Leon." He gave his address and phone number without being asked.
"And where did you find the gun?" Shaw asked while his subordinates were taking notes.
"It's called Jones Quarry. I can show you on a map."
"What were you doing there?"
"I was fishing. I found it," Leon reminded them.
"I was getting in some firewood," his father said.
"This time of year?"
"Beats doing it during the summer, when it's hot, man," Mr. Newton pointed out reasonably. "Also lets the wood season some. I'm a construction worker. I walk iron, and it's a little slow right now, so I went out for some wood. The boy's off from school today, so I brought him along. While I cut the wood, Leon likes to fish. There's some big ones in the quarry," he added with a wink.
"Oh, okay." Shaw grinned. " Leon, you ever catch one?"
"No, but I got close last time," the youngster responded.
"Then what?" Mr. Newton nodded for his son.
"My hook got caught on sumthin' heavy, you know, an' I pulled and pulled and pulled. It come loose, and I tried real hard, but I couldn't reel it up. So I called my daddy."
"I reeled it in," Mr. Newton explained. "When I saw it was a gun, I almost crapped my drawers. The hook was snagged on the trigger guard. What kinda gun is that, anyway?"
"Uzi. It's made in Israel, mostly," the ballistics expert said, looking up from the weapon. "It's been in the water at least a month."
Shaw and another agent shared a look at that bit of news.
"I'm afraid I handled it a lot," Newton said. "Hope I didn't mess up any fingerprints."
"Not after being in the water, Mr. Newton," Shaw replied. "And you brought it right here?"
"Yeah, we only got it, oh"-he checked his watch- "an hour and a half ago. Aside from handling it, we didn't do anything. It didn't have no magazine in it."
"You know guns?" the ballistics man asked.
"I spent a year in Nam. I was a grunt with the 173rd Airborne. I know M-16s pretty good." Newton smiled. "And I used to do a little hunting, mostly birds and rabbits."
"Tell us about the quarry," Shaw said.
"It's off the main road, back maybe three-quarters of a mile, I guess. Lots of trees back there. That's where I get my firewood. I don't really know who owns it. Lots of cars go back there. You know, it's a parking spot for kids on Saturday nights, that sorta place."
"Have you ever heard shooting there?"
"No, except during hunting season. There's squirrels in there, lotsa squirrels. So what's with the gun? Does it mean anything to ya?"
"It might. It's the kind of gun used in the murder of a police officer, and-"
"Oh, yeah! That lady and her kid over Annapolis, right?" He paused for a moment. "Damn."
Shaw looked at the boy. He was about nine, the agent thought, and the kid had smart eyes, scanning the items Shaw had on his walls, the memorabilia from his many cases and posts. "Mr. Newton, you have done us a very big favor."
"Oh, yeah?" Leon responded. "What you gonna do with the gun?"
The ballistics expert answered. "First we'll clean it and make sure it's safe. Then we'll fire it." He looked at Shaw. "You can forget any other forensic stuff. The water in the quarry must be chemically active. This corrosion is pretty fierce." He looked at Leon. "If you catch any fish there, son, you be sure you don't eat them unless your dad says it's all right."
"Okay," the boy assured him.
"Fibers." Shaw said.
"Yeah, maybe that. Don't worry. If they're there, we'll find 'em. What about the barrel?"
"Maybe," the man replied. "By the way, this gun comes from Singapore. That makes it fairly new. The Israelis just licensed them to make the piece eighteen months ago. It's the same outfit that makes the M-16 under license from Colt's." He read off the number. It would be telexed to the FBI's Legal Attache in Singapore in a matter of minutes. "I want to get to work on this right now."
"Can I watch?" Leon asked. "I'll keep out of the way."
"Tell