'And it covers what you're doing now?'
'It'll have to.'
'What have you got, Matt?'
'All I've got is Allen Johnson, and I told you how I got him.'
'Why'd you check those flights?'
'A hunch.'
'Yeah, right. You know what I do when I get a hunch?'
'You bet a bunch?'
He shook his head. 'I buy a lottery ticket,' he said, 'and I've never won yet, which shows how good my
hunches are. You'd think I'd learn.'
'All it takes is a dollar and a dream.'
'That's catchy,' he said. 'I'll have to remember that. Now, if there's nothing else—'
'Actually…'
'This better be good.'
'I was just thinking,' I said, 'that it would be interesting to know if Allen W. Johnson ever bought cyanide.'
He was silent for a long moment, thinking. Then he said,
'Somebody must have checked the records when Whitfield got killed.
Especially after the autopsy showed he was terminal and there was all that speculation that he killed himself. But Will's last letter scotched that line of thought.'
'It proved he killed Whitfield.'
'Uh-huh. It even mentioned cyanide, if I remember correctly. The cyanide had to come from somewhere, didn't it? It smells like almonds, but you can't make it out of almonds, can you?'
'I think you can extract minute quantities from peach pits,' I said,
'but somehow I don't think that's how Will got it.'
'And if he bought it where you had to sign for it, and had to show ID—'
'Maybe he signed in as Allen Johnson.'
He thought it over, straightened up in his seat. He said, 'You know what? I think you should find out who's in charge of the investigation into Will and his wacky ways and ask him to look it up for you.
You're a nice fellow, make a good first impression, and a hundred years ago you used to be on the job yourself. I'm sure they'll be happy to cooperate with you.'
'I'd just hate to keep you from getting the credit.'
'Credit,' he said heavily. 'Is that how you remember it from your days on the force? Is that what you used to get for butting into somebody else's case? Credit?'
'It's a little different when the case is stalled.'
'This one? It can be stalled six different ways, it can have a dead battery and four flat tires, and it's still high- profile and high-priority.
You see Marty McGraw this morning?'
'The last time I saw him was around the time of Will's last letter.'
'I don't mean him, I mean his column. You read it today?' I hadn't.
'He had a hair up his ass about something, and I can't even remember what it was. Last line of the column— 'Where's Will now that we need him?' '
'He didn't write that.'
'The hell he didn't. Hang on a minute, there must be a copy of the News around here somewhere.' He returned with a paper. 'I didn't have it word for word, but that's how it adds up. Here, read it yourself.'
I looked where he was pointing and read the final paragraph aloud.
' 'You find yourself thinking of a certain anonymous letter writer of recent memory, and saying of him what some unfunny folks used to say of Lee Harvey Oswald. Where is he now that we need him?' '
'What did I tell you?'
'I can't believe he wrote that.'
'Why not? He wrote the first one, saying Richie Vollmer wasn't fit to live. Which, I have to say, was a hard position to find fault with. But it sure got Will's motor running.'
14
By the time we got out of there TJ was hungry again, and I realized I hadn't had anything but coffee since breakfast. We found a pizza place with tables and I got us a couple of Sicilian slices.
