‘‘As a conspirator,’’ said George.
‘‘But as a practical matter,’’ I said, ‘‘that would be much, much easier to charge federally.’’
‘‘That’s true,’’ said George.
‘‘The point?’’ said Volont.
‘‘The point is,’’ I said, very carefully, ‘‘that the error on his part was to go to Stritch’s farm.’’ I looked at all three of them. ‘‘Until that time, there was a tenuous federal case against him at best. Right?’’
George nodded.
‘‘For the expedition into the woods,’’ said Hester.
‘‘Yep,’’ I said. ‘‘Nothing else, except a likely financial scam, but we don’t know that, do we?’’
‘‘No,’’ said George. He looked at Volont, who was sitting quietly, with his arms folded. ‘‘Do we?’’
‘‘Immaterial,’’ said Volont. He looked at me. ‘‘Keep going.’’
‘‘Wittman tells us that Gabriel came to the Stritch residence when summoned, even though they were supposedly surrounded by cops, even though it was a murder scene, just to honor a prior sort of philosophical commitment, right?’’
‘‘Yes,’’ said Volont.
‘‘Is that really true to form? For him?’’
‘‘It could be,’’ said Volont.
‘‘No, no,’’ I said. ‘‘Don’t hedge now, for Christ’s sake. Is it or isn’t it?’’
‘‘I wouldn’t have expected that,’’ said Volont. ‘‘No. I would have expected he’d send an emissary.’’
‘‘It would have been the logical thing to do, then?’’ I asked. ‘‘Send somebody else, and not go to Stritch’s place himself. Right?’’
There was general agreement.
‘‘Any idea why he’d do something so…’’ I hunted for the right word. ‘‘So… nonoperational? Not tactically correct? Not…’’
‘‘Professional,’’ said Hester.
‘‘Reasonable,’’ said George. ‘‘Not reasonable.’’
‘‘Completely out of character,’’ said Volont briskly. ‘‘Go on.. .’’
‘‘Right,’’ I said. ‘‘So… why?’’ I grinned at Volont. ‘‘To be fair, I think I’ve thought of something you haven’t,’’ I said. ‘‘I believe I know why.’’
Volont raised his eyebrows. Tough soul, there.
‘‘Nola Stritch,’’ I said.
To be fair, I had to fill Volont in on everything, and I mean everything. All that I said was either corroborated by Hester or, on safe occasions, George. When I was done, Volont sat in silence for a moment.
‘‘I’m not going to jump your asses yet,’’ he said, ‘‘because what you’ve done may just justify how you’ve gone about it.’’ He looked squarely at George. ‘‘In fact, I suppose there’s only one ass I can get on.’’
He wasn’t kidding, so we didn’t either. But Hester jumped right in.
‘‘All well and good, Houseman,’’ she said. ‘‘That’s good background. But what makes you think it’s her?’’
I shrugged. ‘‘Well, she’s not at all bad-looking,’’ I began. Hester made a face. ‘‘She’s in her, what, late forties? Very fit. Very bright. Dynamic, in a lot of ways. Great with computers. Dedicated to some cause or other. Altogether a very attractive, capable, interesting woman. Right?’’
‘‘Yes,’’ said George, bless him.
‘‘On the other hand,’’ I said, ‘‘she sees Gabriel as sort of a hero. Everything she prizes in a man.’’ I looked at Hester. ‘‘Believable?’’
‘‘For her.’’
‘‘Well, sure. And,’’ I added, ‘‘she’s married for years and years to a loser who isn’t very bright at all.’’
‘‘Plus,’’ said George, ‘‘she may well have put him in this position with her able assistance. Right?’’ He looked at Volont. ‘‘Uh, a dispatcher named Sally pointed that out.’’
‘‘I’ll have to meet her,’’ said Volont dryly.
‘‘Evidence points to it… I mean,’’ I said, ‘‘here they are, practicing for a mission on the farm of a man that Gabriel has to know is not too bright. In an area that has no real facilities. I’ll bet he stayed close to the exercise area… if not at the Stritch house, then damned close to it. What you want to bet?’’
‘‘Sally did have a good point, though,’’ said Hester. ‘‘Get rid of some of your worst mistakes by divorcing them. Or, at least, strongly considering it.’’ She shrugged. ‘‘And in walks the brave knight.. .’’
‘‘And,’’ I said, ‘‘that explains why Gabriel also acted so promptly to get rid of Herman.’’
‘‘It also explains,’’ said Volont, ‘‘why he responded to the e-mail so promptly.’’
‘‘Right!’’ I said.
‘‘And,’’ said Volont, ‘‘you told him you’d sent the messages that caused him to do this.’’
‘‘Right!’’ I said. ‘‘Threw him for a little loop.’’
‘‘What you’ve done,’’ said Volont, ‘‘is piss him off.’’ He looked at me very strangely. ‘‘That may not have been the best thing for you to do.’’
‘‘Not necessarily,’’ I said. ‘‘I mean, what’s he going to do? He won’t be taking hostages, that’s for sure. Kill a member of my family? Only get even with me. Won’t get Nola released in a million years. Kill me? Just make him feel better. Nola stays in jail.’’
Volont chuckled. ‘‘Don’t underestimate the pleasure of revenge.’’
‘‘I won’t,’’ I said. ‘‘But for the revenge to be sweet, he doesn’t want to ride off into the sunset alone. He wants his gal on his horse behind him. Don’t underestimate the power of love.’’
Volont drummed his fingers on the desktop. ‘‘All right, we’ll go with it.’’
‘‘Yes!’’ said George.
‘‘You know what?’’ I said. ‘‘The tables are turned. We have the hostage. He’s got to get her out.’’
‘‘No,’’ said Volont flatly. ‘‘He won’t try to get her out of Linn County. He can’t. He could try to kill Herman, that was another matter. But to get her out? No. Not possible.’’
I looked at him. ‘‘He wouldn’t even try that, would he?’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Well,’’ I said, ‘‘it looks to me like there’s only one thing to do.’’
‘‘I’m not sure I want to know,’’ said Volont.
‘‘Sure you do.’’ My turn to grin. ‘‘Transfer her back up here.’’
Twenty-five
Nancy and her entourage arrived just about then. Good timing. We could see them coming up the drive on the little knoll the Sheriff’s Department and the Nation County jail occupy in Maitland.
‘‘Think about it for a minute,’’ I said, mostly to Volont. ‘‘I really think we better talk to Nancy…’’
Nancy, in a word, was a wreck. As one of her trooper escorts told Hester, she had driven all over the road most of the way.
Our favorite reporter collapsed into a chair in the investigator’s office. She looked up at all of us, not recognizing Volont.
‘‘I hope you appreciate this…’’
We got her some coffee, sent out for some lunch, and tried to get her to unwind in a controlled sort of fashion. She was very tired, not having slept most of the night. She’d been afraid to stay at a motel, so she’d pulled over at one rest stop, set her wristwatch alarm for half an hour, and tried to sleep. She’d done that three times. The third time, the alarm didn’t wake her, and she’d gotten about two hours’ sleep. In her car, with the windows up except for a crack. It had been about eighty-five degrees last night. And humid as hell.
‘‘I must look like shit,’’ she said. A remark that produced a polite silence.
‘‘You have a change of clothes in your car?’’ asked Hester. ‘‘If you do, why don’t you take a shower in the women’s section of the jail. Freshen up.’’
We called Sally, and she agreed to come right up.
‘‘Who threatened you in your motel?’’ I asked. ‘‘Do you know him?’’
