clock ticked and then chimed. Someone had laid a comforter over Myron while he'd been sleeping. Win probably.
He checked the other bedrooms. Win and Esperanza were both gone.
He showered and dressed and put on some coffee. The phone rang. Myron picked it up and said, 'Hello.'
It was Victoria Wilson. She still sounded bored.
'They arrested Linda.'
Myron found Victoria Wilson in an attomey waiting area.
'How is she?'
'Fine,' Victoria replied. 'I brought Chad home last night. That made her happy.'
'So where is Linda?'
'In a holding cell awaiting arraignment. We'll see her in a few minutes.'
'What do they have?'
'Quite a bit, actually,' Victoria said. She sounded almost impressed. 'First, they have the guard who saw her entering and leaving an otherwise abandoned golf course at the time of the murder. With the exception of Jack, nobody else was seen going in or out all night.'
'Doesn't mean nobody did. lt's an awfully big area.'
'Very true. But from their standpoint it gives Linda opportunity. Second, they found hairs and fibers on Jack's body and around the murder scene that preliminary tests link to Linda. Naturally, this one should be no problem to discredit. Jack is her husband; of course he'd have hair and fibers from her on his body. He could have spread them around the scene.'
'Plus she told us she went to the course to look for Jack,' Myron added.
'But we're not telling them that.'
'Why not?'
'Because right now we are saying and admitting to nothing.'
Myron shrugged. Not important. 'What else?'
'Jack owned a twenty-two-caliber handgun. The police found it in a wooded area between the Coldren residence and Merion last night.'
'It was just sitting out?'
'No. It was buried in fresh dirt. A metal detector picked it up.'
'They're sure it's Jack's gun?'
She nodded. 'The serial numbers match. The police ran an immediate ballistics test. It's the murder weapon.'
Myron's veins iced up.
' 'Fingerprints?' ' he asked.
Victoria Wilson shook her head. 'Wiped clean.'
'Are they running a powder test on her?' The police run a test on the hands, see if there are any powder burns.
'It'll take a few days,' Victoria said, 'and it'll probably be negative.'
'You had her scrub her hands?'
'And treat them, yes.'
'Then you think she did it.'
Her tone remained unruffled. 'Please don't say that.'
She was right. But it was starting to look bad. 'Is there more?' he asked.
'The police found your tape machine still hooked up to the phone. They were obviously curious as to why the Coldrens found it necessary to tape all incoming calls.'
'Did they find any tapes of the conversations with the kidnapper?'
'. Iust the one where the kidnapper refers to the Fong woman as a 'chink bitch' and demands one hundred grand. And to answer your next two questions, no, we did not elaborate on the kidnapping and yes, they are pissed off'
Myron pondered that for a moment. Something was not right. 'That was the only tape they found?'
'That's it.'
He frowned. 'But if the machine was still hooked up, it should have taped the last call the kidnapper made to Jack. The one that got him to storm out of the house and head to Merion.'
Victoria Wilson looked at him steadily. 'The police found no other tapes. Not in the house. Not on Jack's body. Nowhere.'
Again the ice in the veins. The implication was obvious:
The most reasonable explanation for there being no tape was that there was no call. Linda Coldren had made it up. The lack of a tape would have been viewed as a major contradiction if she had said anything to the cops.
Fortunately for Linda, Victoria Wilson had never let her tell her story in the first place.
The woman was good.
'Can you get me a copy of the tape the police found'?' he asked.
Victoria Wilson nodded. 'There is still more,' she said.
Myron was almost afraid to hear it.
'Let's take the severed finger for a moment,' she continued as though ordering it as an appetizer. 'You found it in Linda's car in a manila envelope.'
Myron nodded.
'The envelope is the type sold only at Staples their brand, the number ten size. The writing was done by a red Flair pen, medium-point. Three weeks ago, Linda Coldren visited Staples. According to the receipt found at her house yesterday, she purchased numerous office supplies, including a box of Staples' number ten manila envelopes and a red Flair medium-point pen.'
Myron could not believe what he was hearing.
'On the positive side, their handwriting analyst could not tell if the writing on the envelope came from Linda.'
But something else was dawning on Myron. Linda had waited around for him at Merion. The two of them had gone to the car together. They had found the finger together.
The district attomey would pounce upon that story. Why had she waited for Myron? The answer, the DA would claim, was obvious: she needed a witness. She had planted the finger in her own car she could certainly do that without drawing suspicion and she needed a hapless dupe to be with her when she found it.
Enter Myron Bolitar, the dupe du jour.
But of course, Victoria Wilson had neatly arranged it so that the DA would never hear that story. Myron was Linda's attorney. He could not tell. No one would ever know.
Yep, the woman was good except for one thing.
'The severed finger,' Myron said. 'That has to be the kicker, Victoria. Who is going to believe that a mother would cut off her own son's finger?'
Victoria looked at her watch. 'Let's go talk to Linda.'
'No, hold up here. That's the second time you blew this off. What aren't you telling me?'
She slung her purse over her shoulder. 'Come on.'
'Hey, I'm getting a little tired of getting jerked around here.'
Victoria Wilson nodded slowly, but she did not speak or stop walking. Myron followed her into a holding room.
Linda Coldren was already there. She was decked out in a bright orange prison jumpsuit. Her hands were still manacled.
She looked up at Myron through hollow eyes. There were no hellos or hugs or even pleasantries.
Without preamble, Victoria said, 'Myron wants to know why I don't think the severed finger helps us.'
Linda faced him. There was a sad smile on her face.
'I guess that's understandable?
'What the hell is going on here?' Myron said. 'I
know you didn't cut off your own son's finger.'
