because a cordon of officers and the family were standing around watching, and they all needed that. When they finally packed their gear, got up, and backed away, one of them wept, unashamed. He’d wrestled against Marty Pullman at the State tournament a million years ago, laughing when he lost, because trying to pin Marty’s monstrous shoulders had been like trying to hold down a gorilla.
Jack had moved far enough away to give the techs room to work, but no farther. The minute they left, he was back on his knees at Marty’s side, because he’d looked so sad, lying there all alone.
One by one, the officers at the door walked in and looked down at one of their own in silent homage, and then filed out and disappeared into the heavy rain. Without their bodies blocking the doorway, the rain blew in on Marty’s body, washing the blood from his chest.
Gino, Magozzi, and Lily were standing near the doorway, and somehow Lily’s hand had found its way into Magozzi’s. It felt tiny and fragile and sad. There would be a few moments of relative calm before the technicians bustled in to turn death into science. Too many moments for Jack Gilbert to sit over there all alone, Gino thought, trying to be grumpy because he didn’t like Jack Gilbert, nevertheless pushing himself away from the wall, walking over to stand next to him.
With the blood washed away, Gino saw the long, ragged scar on Marty’s quiet chest. ‘Jesus,’ he murmured. ‘How’d he get that scar?’
‘His father,’ Jack said, his voice as dead as the man next to him.
‘What?’
‘His father cut him when he was a kid.’
‘Christ.’ Gino closed his eyes briefly, thinking of all the history that makes up a man, that you never knew everything about anybody, and that there were monsters everywhere.
He turned his back when a particularly strong gust of wind blew a sheet of rain in through the doorway, making a sickly, smacking sound on Marty’s exposed skin. Gino’s thoughts shot back to the beginning of this awful case, to Lily Gilbert contaminating his precious crime scene by moving her dead husband’s body in out of the rain. When he glanced over at where she was standing next to Magozzi, she was looking at him through those thick glasses of hers, not crying, not saying anything, just looking.
Gino looked back down at the rain splatting against Marty’s face and understood a few things.
Magozzi raised an eyebrow when he saw Gino squat, slip his arms beneath Marty Pullman’s shoulders and knees, then lift the dead man and carry him gently over to the sofa, out of the rain.
When Gino turned around, Lily was still looking at him. She nodded once, then walked over to stand behind Jack. She placed her hands on his shuddering shoulders, bent to kiss the top of his head, and whispered, ‘Come, take care of your mother. Her heart is breaking.’
Chief Malcherson had shown up within half an hour of the shooting to take charge of the scene. He took statements from Magozzi and Gino, relieved Magozzi of his weapon, and initiated all the procedures required whenever an officer used deadly force. Technically, Magozzi was on admin leave until the board cleared the shooting of Jeff Montgomery – Gino would have to sign all the reports generated before the clearance – but Malcherson never once considered sending him home. For one thing, Magozzi would have defied him, which would have been messy and unacceptable – they would both have been forced into posturing positions that could only hurt the investigation; and for another, the Gilberts knew and trusted him, and if there was a key to closing this case, the Gilberts owned it. Sometimes you followed the rules to the letter, and sometimes you didn’t. He stayed on while Jimmy Grimm and his crew worked the scene, releasing Gino and Magozzi at ten o’clock so they could go talk to the Gilberts.
They followed the gravel path through the back planting beds to the house. Pieces of colorful quartz sparkled and winked in the beams of their flashlights, in spite of the heavy rain. At least the lightning had moved off to the east for the time being. There was another line of storms moving in from the west – according to Jimmy Grimm, the supercell that was dumping on Minnesota was going to keep them under the gun all night – but they had a lull before the next batch blew in.
Lily met them at the back door, wearing a dry pair of overalls and a short-sleeved shirt. Magozzi could see the wiry muscles in her skinny arms, and the tattoo down near her wrist. ‘Have you heard anything about Officer Becker?’ were the first words out of her mouth.
‘He’s going to make it,’ Gino said. ‘Montgomery didn’t shoot him. Just cracked him over the head.’
‘Where did they take him?’
‘Hennepin County, I think.’
‘He was a nice boy. I have to send flowers before you take us to jail.’
Gino and Magozzi exchanged a quick, puzzled glance. ‘We’re not here to take to you jail, Mrs Gilbert.’
‘Not yet, maybe. Come in. We’ve been waiting for you.’
She led them into the kitchen, where Jack was already at the table, dry and sober now, wearing an old- fashioned plaid robe that had to have been his father’s. The sleeves were rolled up several turns, reminding Magozzi that Morey Gilbert had been a very tall man. Jack’s eyes were red and his face was puffy. ‘How are you doing, Jack?’
‘Okay, I guess. Sit down, guys.’
‘This was a terrible night,’ Gino said. ‘We’re sorry about Marty. Really sorry. And we’re sorry we have to ask you these questions now.’
‘This is your job,’ Lily said, moving around the kitchen, getting dishes out of cupboards, filling glasses as if they were a couple of guests who’d dropped by for a snack. ‘Here. Eat this.’ She put a bowl of aromatic soup in front of each of them. ‘That’s chicken soup. It fixes a lot of things. Homemade, real schmaltz. The other stuff doesn’t work.’
Gino had no clue what schmaltz was, but it didn’t sound half as good as the soup smelled. He picked up his spoon, then hesitated. She thought they were going to take her to jail, and she was giving them soup. He wondered if eating it would constitute accepting a bribe.
‘Don’t fight it,’ Jack was watching him. ‘She knows why you’re here. We’ll tell you anything we can. But you still have to eat the soup.’
‘First,’ Lily added. ‘Then we talk.’
Magozzi ate his soup, but unlike Gino, he understood the offering for what it was. Lily Gilbert was finally letting them in.
When they’d finished, she cleared the dishes and sat down next to Jack. ‘Tell them about Brainerd.’
Magozzi got busy pulling out his notebook and pen, keeping his face averted in case the surprise showed.
He felt the tension coming off Gino, knew he was thinking the same thing, but they both kept their silence, waiting to hear it out loud.
The real story was almost worse.
It took Jack a long time to tell them about Morey, Rose, and Ben shooting the old man in the fishing lodge, about the shadow he’d seen in the loft that day, and finally about his own refusal to participate.
Magozzi and Gino stopped writing and looked up at Jack simultaneously.
‘What?’ Jack asked.
‘Nothing, Jack. Go on.’
He told them about the ride home that day, the fight with his father, and everything that came after. ‘But I never connected Brainerd with Pop’s death at all,’ he finished. ‘Not until yesterday when Ben was killed and I saw Rose Kleber’s picture in the paper – I never knew her name until then. That’s when I realized what was happening, that whoever had been up in that loft saw what we did, and they were taking us out, one by one.’
‘What
‘Whatever. I’ve got blood on my hands any way you look at it. If I’d told you sooner, maybe you could have figured it out in time to save Marty.’
Magozzi gave him the truth. ‘Maybe. But maybe not. Jeff covered himself pretty well.’
He’d thrown him a little bone, but it would never be enough, and Magozzi couldn’t offer any more. Half of him wanted to wring Jack’s neck, because he had to believe that with a little more lead time they might have been able to save Marty – but the other half of him bled for the guy. What would it be like to have a father who tried to turn
