'Most criminals don't think they'll get caught.'
'You don't understand. How do I say this?'
Tracy waited patiently while Packard searched for the words to explain why Charlie Deems terrified him.
'Charlie not only believes he can break the law with impunity, he believes he's impervious to any kind of harm.'
'I'm not following you.'
'He doesn't think he can be killed. He thinks he's immortal.'
Tracy's mouth opened. Then she laughed out loud.
'It's not funny,' Packard said.
'I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand you. Are you saying that Deems thinks nothing would happen if I shot him?'
'That's exactly what I mean.'
'Oh, come on.'
'I visited Charlie at the penitentiary when I was handling his appeal.
At some point, we got to talking aboutwhat steps he should take if he lost in the Oregon Supreme Court. I noticed he wasn't paying attention, so I tried to shock him into listening by talking about his death sentence. Charlie just smiled. He told me he wasn't worried about dying because he has an angel who protects him.'
'An angel?' Tracy asked, thinking she had not heard Packard correctly.
'That's right. An angel. At first I thought he was kidding. I told him that with the stuff he'd done, the last thing he had was an angel.
But he was dead serious. He said his angel is a dark angel. Then he told me this story.
'When Deems was in his late teens there was this woman he was screwing.
An older woman. Maybe thirty-five. She was the wife of Ray Weiss, who was doing time for murder. Weiss was paroled. When he got home he beat up his wife because he heard she was cheating on him. She named Charlie as the guy.
'The wife had kept Weiss's handgun and ammunition in the house all those years. As soon as Weiss got the name, he loaded the gun and went looking for Charlie. He found him sitting on his front stoop. Weiss pulled the gun and accused Charlie of fucking his wife. Charlie denied everything. Weiss called Charlie a liar.
Then he shot him. Charlie told me he was sure he was a dead man. The bullet hit him right in the chest. But the thing is, it bounced off.'
'It what?'
'The bullet bounced off Charlie's chest, just like in the Superman comics.'
'But how . . . ?'
'I asked a ballistics expert about the story. He said it was possible.
The bullets had been sitting around all that time. Ten years. The powder could have gotten damp or oil might have seeped into it. Whatever the reason, Weiss was in shock. He fired again and the same thing happened. Charlie said Weiss's eyes bugged out of his head. Then he threw the gun at Charlie and took off running.
'Now, here's the scary part. Charlie told me that when the first bullet hit him, he saw the dark angel. She was dressed in a black gown that went from her neck to her feet. She was wearing sandals. He remembered that. And she had wings. Beautiful wings, like the wings of a dove, only huge and black. The angel loomed over Charlie with her wings spread out. When the bullet struck him, he saw a flash of light and the angel said, 'I'll protect you, Charlie.'
'From that minute on, Charlie Deems has believed that he can do anything he wants and nothing can hurt him. That means he can't be scared off and he can't be stopped, once he sets his mind to something.'
The story was so bizarre that Tracy didn't know what to say.
How did you deal with someone who thought he was immortal?
'Tell Reynolds to tread very carefully where Charlie Deems is concerned,' Packard warned her.
'I will.'
'Good. Now, I'll get you those transcripts.'
'Thanks.'
'Don't thank me. I'm all too glad to get rid of anything that reminds me of Charlie Deems.'
Matthew Reynolds watched the light blinking on his personal phone line.
All calls to the office were handled by an answering service after the receptionist left, but the personal line bypassed the service. Few people knew his private number, but he had given it to Abbie.
Matthew picked up the receiver, hoping it was Abbie. He had not seen her for two days, but she had never left his thoughts.
'Matt?'
'Yes.'
Matthew's heart raced.
'I remembered something. I don't know if it will help.'
'Tell me.'
'I shot a roll of film the day I was attacked at the coast. I forgot all about it in the excitement. When Jack drove me back to Portland, he packed up the car. He must have put my camera in the trunk. Then he brought my things in when we got to the rental house in Meadowbrook.
Your investigator must have brought the camera when he moved my belongings here. I just found it. The film is in the camera. I think I took some shots behind the cabin. There might be a shot of the shed where the dynamite was stored.'
'Barry was at the cabin on Sunday. He looked in the shed and there was no dynamite. If we had an earlier picture of the shed . . .'
Matthew thought for a moment. 'What make is the camera?'
'It's a Pentax 105-R.'
'That could be a break. The Pentax date-stamps the negatives. That will prove the date the pictures were taken. If there is something useful on the film, Geddes won't be able to argue that the pictures were taken at a later date.'
'What should I do?'
'Don't do anything. Leave the film in the camera. I'm going to send Tracy Cavanaugh to pick it up. I'll want the camera, too.'
'Couldn't you come?' Abbie asked.
'I can't tonight.'
'Oh.'
Matthew could hear the disappointment in her voice and could not help smiling.
'I'm sorry. I'm handling an appeal in Texas. The man is on death row.
The brief is due in two days.'
'You don't have to explain, Matt. I know you have other people who depend on you. It's just that . . .'
'Yes.'
'Oh, I was feeling sorry for myself. You cheer me up, that's all.'
'Good. That's the part of my job I like the best.'
Abbie laughed. 'Will I see you soon? I'm getting a little stir crazy.'
'I promise. As soon as this brief is done.'
Tracy brought the transcripts and a takeout order of kung pao chicken to the office as soon as she left Bob Packard. Deems's trial had lasted several weeks, so the transcript was twenty-nine volumes long. She was reading Volume III when Matthew Reynolds said, 'I'm glad you're still here.'
Tracy looked up from the transcript and saw Reynolds and the time simultaneously. It was 8:15. How had that happened? She was certain she had started reading at 5:30. Where had the hours gone?
'Mrs. Griffen just phoned me. We could be in luck. She shot a roll of film at the coast the day she was attacked. In the excitement, she forgot about it. I want you to drive to her home and get the camera and the film. Bring the film to a commercial developer first thing in the morning. I want a receipt showing the date the film was delivered for processing. Then bring me the camera.'
'I'll go right now.'
