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The Guilty - Jason Pinter [38]

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in that class?"

"A minus."

The Guilty

115

"That'll do. I refuse to put up with students post-graduation

unless they've received at least a B plus. So what brings you

to our humble university? Not soliciting donations, I hope."

I laughed. Amanda didn't. Clearly I'd missed a joke.

"So, Mr. Parker," Agnes said. "Amanda tells me you're a

reporter and you have some questions a woman of my expertise might be able to assist you with. That correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said. Agnes cringed.

"Don't call me ma'am, please. I'd rather die alone surrounded by cats than think I'm a ma'am. Call me Agnes."

"Right, Agnes. Anyway, you've heard about these murders,

right? Athena Paradis, Officer Joe Mauser, Jeffrey Lourdes?"

She shook her head sadly. "Terrible, terrible things. How

someone can murder people who've contributed so much to

our society is just shameful and beyond me."

"The person who committed these crimes, I'm pretty sure

they're using a weapon, specifically a rifle, that has some

specific cause or reason behind its use. The killer is also using

ammunition I've been told is quite out of the ordinary," I

eyed her red hair, the lava lamps. "Amanda said you were

familiar with nineteenth-century weaponry..."

"Shoot," she said. Then she laughed. "Get it, shoot? Go on."

"Right. So my source in the NYPD told me that the bullet

used to kill both Athena Paradis and Officer Mauser was a

.44-40 caliber magnum round."

Agnes bit her lip, furrowed her brow.

"That's a powerful bullet," she said.

"So I've heard. Is it true that it's an uncommon round?"

"Depends," she said. "Hunters use them all the time--

.44-40 bullets have massive stopping power, and just enough

accuracy that if you're a decent shot, you'll only need one

shot."

116

Jason Pinter

"I've scanned the police reports for every homicide in the

five boroughs over the last five years," I said. "Three hundred

and twelve murders. None of them with magnum rounds."

"Well, to be honest magnum rounds aren't the kind of ammunition you tend to see these days, at least not around

here," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the area between the Hudson and East River isn't

exactly known for their hunting grounds." She paused.

"Unless this man is making them."

"I think he may be," I said.

"Listen, Mr. Parker..."

"Call me Henry."

"Right, Parker, I appreciate you coming down here, it

flatters me to no end that a former student thinks so highly of

me to believe I might be of some assistance on a murder case.

But I'm a college professor. Nothing more, maybe a little less."

I looked around her office. "Mrs. Trimble, it's clear you

have a passion for these weapons. Now regardless of what that

says about you, I'd sure as hell trust someone who has a

passion for something over someone who gets paid to do it.

I think Amanda's right. But I'm not a cop, I'm not asking you

to help catch a murderer. But I think there's more to this than

simple killings. I think this guy has a motive, and I think his

gun is a clue to that."

Agnes took the candy cane from her mouth, tossed it in the

garbage. Looked me over. "You know my father took me to the

range when I was a little girl. Had one set up in our backyard.

Picket fence with empty paint cans on it. Only seven-year-old

in my town who could shoot paint cans from twenty yards out

with a 9 mm with eighty-seven-percent accuracy. I know guns.

I don't like what they can do, but I'm in awe of them."

The Guilty

117

"I can see that," I said. "And that could be the difference

here."

"Do they know what kind of gun it was fired from?"

"Not specifically," I said. "But there are clues. A witness

to Jeffrey Lourdes's murder said she got a good look at the

weapon. She said it looked old, like she'd seen it in a movie.

It might have had a wood stock. That's as much as I know."

"Mr. Parker, hundreds of guns fit that description. If that's

all you have..."

"Does the phrase 'gun that won the West' mean anything

to you?"

Agnes's eyes opened wide. She brought a hand to her

mouth, chewed on a fingernail. Suddenly

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