Someday, Hennessey thought when the black mood was on him, someday murder would be an accepted thing. It was that hard to stop. But this one might not have escaped yet
'I'd like to get the body to the lab,' said the man in the white coat. 'Can't do an autopsy here. I want to probe for the bullets. They'd tell us how far away he was shot from, if we can get a gun like it, to do test firing.'
'If? Unusual gun?'
The man laughed. 'Very. The slug in the wail was a solid-fuel rocket, four nozzles the size of pinholes, angled to spin the thing. Impact like a .45.'
'Hmm.' Hennessey asked of nobody in particular, 'Get any footprints?'
Someone answered. 'Yessir, in the grass outside. Paper shoes. Small feet. Definitely not Anderson's.'
'Paper shoes.' Could he have planned to hike out? Brought a pair of hiking boots to change into? But it began to look like the killer hadn't planned anything so elaborate.
The dining setup would indicate that Anderson hadn't been expecting visitors. If premeditated murder could be called casual, this had been a casual murder, except for the picture window. Police had searched the house and found no sign of theft. Later they could learn what enemies Anderson had made in life. For now... '
For now, the body should be moved to Fresno. 'Call the copter back,' Hennessey told someone. They'd need the portable JumpShift unit in the side.
When the wind from the copter had died Hennessey stepped forward with the rest, with the team that carried the stretcher. He asked of Donaho, 'Any luck?'
'None,' said Lieutenant Donaho. He climbed out, stood a moment to feel solid ground beneath his feet. 'No footprints, no tracks, nobody hiding where we could see him. There's a lot of woods where he could be hiding, though. Look, it's after sunset, Captain. Get us an infrared scanner and we'll go up again when it gets dark.'
'Good.' More time for the killer to move-but there were only half a dozen houses be could try for, Hennessey thought. He could get permission from the owners to turn off their booths for awhile. Maybe.
'But I don't believe it,' Donaho was saying. 'Nobody could travel a mile through that. And the word from Fresno is that the only unoccupied house is two miles off to the side!'
'Never a boy scout, were you?'
'No. Why?'
'We used to hike these hills with thirty pounds of backpack. Still...hmm.' He seemed to be studying Donaho's face. 'Is Anderson's booth back in operation?'
'Yes. You were right, Captain. It was hooked to the alarm.'
'Then we can send the copter home and use that. Listen, Donaho, I may have been going at this wrong. Let me ask you something . . .'
Most of the police were gone by ten. The body was gone. There was fingerprint powder on every polished surface, and glass all over the living room.
Hennessey and Donabo and the uniformed man named Fisher sat at the dining table, drinking coffee made in the Anderson kitchen.
'Guess I'll be going home,' Donaho said presently. He made no reference to what they had planned.
They watched through the window, as Lieutenant Donaho, brilliantly lighted, vanished within the glass booth.
After that they drank coffee, and talked, and watched. The stars were very bright.
It was almost midnight before anything happened. Then, i rustling sound-and something burst into view from upslope; a shadowy figure in full flight. It was in the displacement booth before Hennessey and Fisher had even reached the front door.
The booth light showed every detail of a lean dark man in a rumpled paper business suit, one hand holding a briefcase, the other dialing frantically. Dialing again, while one eye in a shyly averted face watched two armed men strolling up to the booth.
'No use,' Hennessey called pleasantly. 'Lieutenant Donaho had it cut off as soon as he flicked out.'
The man released a ragged sigh.
'We want the gun.'
The man considered. Then he handed out the briefcase. The gun was in there. The man came out after it. He had a beaten look.
'Where were you hiding?' Hennessey asked.
'Up there in the bushes, where I could see you. I knew you'd turn the booth back on sooner or later.'
'Why didn't you just walk down to the nearest house?'
The lean man looked at him curiously. Then he looked down across a black slope, to where a spark of light showed one window still glowing in a distant house. 'Oh my God. I never thought of that.'
