The Second Mouse - Archer Mayor [95]
He rubbed his temples with the heels of both hands. He hated sorting out things like this. He felt trapped back in eighth grade math class.
He tried to think clearly. Maybe he was being paranoid. His mother had said the guy was bored and apologetic, that he’d said his investigation was purely routine. Wasn’t it possible that the VBI was given this kind of job just because of the national mood—purely routinely? Everyone was so cautious nowadays, like she said.
Maybe that’s all there was to it.
But he didn’t really believe that. Not really.
Joe stared at Willy. “You are kidding me.”
Willy smirked with satisfaction. They were in a borrowed conference room at the Bennington PD, along with Sam, Lester, and the ever-affable Johnny Massucco, now assigned to them as official liaison.
“Nope,” Willy said. “Ellis Robbinson and Mel Martin are joined at the hip.”
“I can vouch for that,” Massucco said. “They pop up in each other’s files all the time. At one point they even lived together, the wife and the two guys, before Robbinson found his own place.”
Sam laughed. “Well, apparently that part’s gotten complicated, unless it always was.”
Joe raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh?”
“We poked around Ellis’s apartment complex, under the radar. Willy fits in really well over there . . .”
“You should know,” Willy threw in.
“. . . and we found a neighbor,” Sam kept going, “who saw Nancy Martin more than once go inside for a few hours at a time. The neighbor had no doubt what they were doing.”
“Does Mel ever come over?” Joe asked.
“Not with her, and not in a long time.”
“Do you have a timeline for this affair?”
“We think it’s new,” Willy answered. “Without tipping off who we were, we talked with some of his coworkers after hours. He’s been real happy just recently, and he doesn’t deny it’s because he’s getting his rocks off.”
“He mention her by name?” Joe asked.
“Didn’t have to—one of his pals saw them in a pickup truck in town. He said their relationship was crystal clear.”
Joe turned to Massucco. “You know anything about this?”
“News to me” was the response. “When they all shared the trailer, it never came up.”
Joe nodded. “The reason I’m interested is that I traced the source of that missing radioactive garbage bag. Looks like Ellis Robbinson stole it while he was visiting his sick mother at the hospital, accompanied by someone fitting Nancy Martin’s description.”
He placed both hands on the tabletop for emphasis and added, “All of which means we’ve got even more going on we know nothing about—namely, what’s the story behind the bag? The Fusion guys talked dirty bomb because that’s their thing. But what if it’s tied to this romance between Mel’s wife and his best friend? What’re Nancy and Ellis up to, and is Mel in on it in any way?”
Lester raised his hand. “We keep dismissing the dirty bomb idea. Couldn’t that be an option?”
Joe shook his head. “I double-checked with the hospital. The half-life of the stuff in the bag was over almost from the start. It’s just trash now.”
He looked at Sam again. “What else?”
“Not much. We saw the pickup Mel bought from Newell outside his trailer, so he’s still driving it. We didn’t tail him anywhere, ’cause we didn’t want to spook him, so we’re a little vague about his movements. He is on the move, though. The pickup comes and goes all the time—’course, some of that’s Nancy getting a little afternoon delight, and Mel also has his Harley.”
“Does Mel work anywhere?”
Willy shook his head. “Nope—happy ward of the welfare state. He’s definitely got something going, though, just from the way he’s cruisin’ around, looking over his shoulder all the time. You can almost see the fuse hanging from his butt.”
Joe nodded, pushed himself away from the table, and began pacing the breadth of the room. “I had a small talk with Conrad Sweet’s parole officer.”
“Who?” Willy asked.
“High Top,” Sam answered.
“He still hasn’t heard from the kid,” Joe continued. “One second he was there, the next he wasn’t. Johnny, your department was asked to help look into that, right?