Twice Dead - Catherine Coulter [76]
“Was there anything distinctive about the car the man stole?”
“Yes, the windows were tinted dark because my mother had very sensitive eyes. Too much sunlight really hurt her.”
“I see. What was the color of the car?”
“White with gray interior. There was a small dent above the left rear tire.”
“I see. Did you say that there were other than the local cops there?”
“Oh, yes. Of all things, they were from New York City. They should have caught this guy. We don’t know why the New York City police are involved. Do you? Is that really why you’re calling? You want to pump me for information?”
“No, of course not. This is simply statistical information that we need.”
“Are there any more questions, Ms. Martin? I’m sorting through my mother’s things and I have to be down at St. Paul’s charities in a half hour.”
“No, ma’am. I’m very sorry for your loss. I’ll take care of everything here.” Sherlock turned to see all eyes focused on her. “The killer painted a white car black and stole another license plate. The New York City cops were there. They know. Oh, yeah, the windows are tinted dark because Mrs. Bailey had sensitive eyes.”
“Son of a bitch,” Hatch said and groped in his pocket for his cigarettes. “How come nobody told me that the cops knew about that car?”
Adam gave him a look and said, “They’ve got a real lid on that one. My guess is they’re keeping it from the Feds, don’t want to get aced out. And the victim loses. What the New York cops don’t know is that our killer is here in Maine. Shall we tell them?”
Savich said, “Not the New York cops, but I can call Tellie Hawley, the SAC of the New York City office. He’ll see it gets to where it needs to go.”
“Yeah,” Adam said, “why not? Anyone think of a good reason why not?”
“How specific should we be?” Becca asked. She was wringing her hands. Adam frowned.
Savich rolled it around in his brain. “Let’s just tell him the guy’s been seen on the coast. How’s that? It’s the truth.”
“We’ve got to get him,” Becca said. “If we don’t, then we have to call this Thomas person who seems to know everyone and direct everything, and tell him to bring in the Marines.”
“HE hasn’t called,” Becca said, and took a bite of her hot dog. “Why hasn’t he called?”
Adam said as he chewed a potato chip, “I think he’s going to lie low for a while. He’s not stupid. He’s going to dig in somewhere else, give you some time to chew your fingernails, then jump back into the game—his game.”
They were all eating hot dogs, except Savich, with relish and mustard, the team of guys outside coming in one at a time. Special Agent Rollo Dempsey said to Adam, “I knew your name but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it. Now I do. You saved Senator Dashworth’s life last year when that crazy tried to stick a knife in his ribs.”
Adam didn’t say a word.
“Yeah, it was you. You saved Senator Dashworth’s life. Pretty impressive.”
“You shouldn’t know about that,” Adam said finally, frowning at Rollo. “You really shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, well, I’m an insider, I can’t help it if people tell me everything.”
“I never heard anything about that,” Becca said, her antennae up. “What are you talking about?”
Rollo grinned at her and said, “Did you find out who tried to off him?”
“You don’t know about that, too?”
“Hey, I’m an insider, but the spigot was off when it came to the particulars.”
Adam shrugged. “Well, who cares now? The guy who wanted the senator dead was his son-in-law. Irving—that’s the guy’s name—had sent him threats, all the usual anonymous stuff. The senator called me. It turned out Irving had become a heroin addict, didn’t have any more money, and wanted the senator’s inheritance. The senator managed to keep it from the media, to protect his daughter, and so we got the guy into a sanatorium, where he belonged, where he’s still at.”
“You run some sort of a bodyguard business?” Becca said, frowning at Adam over a spoonful of baked beans. “I thought you did security consulting.”
“I like to keep my hand in a lot of different