You’ve got more to worry about than I do.”
On the way back to Las Piernas, he thought of facing Yvette Nereault and telling her that her brother had been murdered, just as she had always believed. He thought of the men who had met him for breakfast that first morning back from the mountains — including his own partner — and their clumsy attempt to pressure him into forgetting about Lefebvre.
He grew angry thinking of their disparagement of a good cop — even the chief had made Lefebvre’s name taboo.
Suddenly he thought again of the paper airplane in Bredloe’s pocket and heard Nereault’s warning echoing through his mind:
19
Tuesday, July 11, 5:30 P.M.
St. Anne’s Hospital
He called Pete to get an update on the captain’s condition. Pete told him that Bredloe had briefly regained consciousness several times during the afternoon. The captain hadn’t been awake long enough to really talk to anyone, but his doctors seemed pleased that he had managed a slurred version of Miriam’s name when he saw her at his bedside.
Frank decided to stop by the hospital before heading home. Bredloe probably wouldn’t even know he was there, but it seemed important to Frank to take the time to visit him. If nothing else, he could give Miriam a chance to eat dinner or offer to bring something to her if she wouldn’t leave the room. Irene wouldn’t be able to join him; on Tuesday nights, she covered city council meetings.
As he pulled into a parking space at St. Anne’s, his pager went off. Ben Sheridan’s cell phone number. Frank called the anthropologist.
“Frank? Glad you called back so quickly,” Ben said. “I’m just coming back from the mountains.”
“I thought you weren’t going up there until the weekend.”
“I wasn’t, but I didn’t have any classes today and I was curious. So Anna and I took the dogs up to the site.”
Anna was Ben’s girlfriend. She was also an experienced dog handler and often helped Ben on searches. “You found something or you wouldn’t have paged me.”
“Well, not much in the way of remains — a few small bones. But we found a wood rat’s nest and located something that might be sort of interesting in it. Lefebvre’s watch.”
“His watch? Are you sure it’s his?”
“Inscribed to him from his sister, Yvette, on the back. In French, by the way. Even better, I’ve got made-for-TV evidence for you here.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how it works on TV,” Ben said. “A bullet passes through a victim and conveniently hits a clock or breaks his watch, so you learn the time of death — right? Only it wasn’t a bullet, just good old impact. Plenty of that in a crash. So it stopped Lefebvre’s watch. The watch is an old-fashioned but very nice Omega. An analog dial. With little windows on the face that show the day and date.”
“Are you telling me you can determine the time of the crash from it?”
“Not exactly. The watch was smashed up on impact, and the minute hand and crown are missing — probably in the debris the NTSB picked up on the cockpit floor. Your lab should be able to see the impression of the minute hand on the face even though it’s gone. The face is a little dirty, but you can still see ‘Fri’ for Friday and ‘Jun’ for June and the number twenty-two for the date. The hour hand is on nine.”
“Which means Lefebvre died the same night he took off. The NTSB learned that already, I think, but this helps to confirm that. It should probably go into their report, too.”
“So — I guess it wasn’t so exciting after all.”
“No — it is. I’ll tell you why the next time I see you. I’ve got to check out something in the property room before I know more. Are you hanging on to the watch?”
“I’ll be giving it to the county coroner. I’m working for him at this point. But I’ll call Mayumi Iwata and let her know about it.”
“Good. Thanks a lot. Oh — one other thing. Do you know the name of the engineering professor who’s in charge of the paper airplane competition at the university?”
“Ray Wilkes. Do you need to talk to him about something?”
“Yes, are you friends?”
“I haven’t known him for long, but I like him. The first time I came on campus openly wearing my prosthesis, he stared — but not in the way most people do. He named the make and model of everything in my rig and complimented me on my choice of prosthetist. Turns out he runs the campus program for students interested in going into prosthesis design. Want me to ask him to give you a call?”
“Thanks, Ben. Have him call the cell phone.”
As he hung up, he saw Chief Hale walking out of St. Anne’s. Frank locked his car, hesitated briefly, then called out to the chief. Hale’s aide had already opened the door to the chief’s car, but Hale waited, scowling as Frank hurried over to where he stood.
“If I could have a word alone with you, sir?”
“What is it?” the chief snapped.
“Alone, sir,” Frank said, glancing toward the aide.
Hale seemed about to refuse, but then said, “Wait here,” to the aide and began walking. Frank followed him as he took quick strides back toward the hospital. The chief moved on a determined course, not stopping until he
