“Right. But they’re playing the same game we are. They didn’t come here because they needed a break from stealing money. They want to get into Scully’s house, just as we did, and the cousin’s house.”
Walker held Stillman in the corner of his eye. “How do you know they haven’t already done it?”
“Because if we had gotten it done, we wouldn’t go down the street and stop for espresso and a Danish afterward. We’d get the hell out of here. They’re here in daylight, casing the town, just the way we did. They’re playing a game with rules that we know. They’ve stolen a lot of money, and they think there’s probably something in a house in this town that implicates them. If they get to it before anybody else does, they win. If we get to it first, they lose. You have to look at the situation and say, ‘What would we do?’ ”
“What would we do?”
“Same thing they did. We’d get in our car and drive off. But this isn’t just a question of fraudulent insurance claims, it’s murder with special circumstances. Death penalty. If that were you, would you leave evidence here?”
“I don’t suppose I would,” said Walker. “But if they saw us here, wouldn’t they think that we must have come to search Scully’s house and his cousin’s too?”
“Sure,” said Stillman.
“And we were here first, so wouldn’t they think it’s too late?”
“Just the opposite. If they had what they came for, they wouldn’t be hanging around the coffee shop. If we had what we came for, we wouldn’t be loitering around on Main Street either. We’d be gone. If they saw us, then what they saw was proof that it’s not too late, but that they’ve got to make a move very soon. Tonight, after dark.”
Walker was skeptical. “Tonight? Not tomorrow night?”
“If they saw us, they know how close we are to getting there first. After dark tonight is the first time we could pull a break-in. They’ll try to beat us to it.”
“With all those police around?”
“They don’t know about the police.”
“How the hell can you know that?”
Stillman spoke quietly and patiently. “Think about what happened. We were walking up Main Street when we saw them getting out of their car. Then what?”
“We went straight up Constitution Avenue to the police station.”
“Right. It took about five or six minutes to walk up there, and another twenty-five for the chief to tell his men to move in. When they did, they didn’t see our two guys. They had their descriptions, the make, year, and license number of the car. Besides that, there can’t be more than twenty-five people in this town today that the cops haven’t seen twice a week since they were born. But the cops didn’t see our two guys. I’d say that means our guys were gone before the police got there, wouldn’t you?”
“I guess so,” Walker admitted. “What do you suppose they’re doing now?”
Stillman walked on, staring into the distance. “They’re changing clothes, getting a different car, and waiting for dark.”
Walker dreaded the answer to the next question. “And what are we going to do?”
“Pretty much the same thing: wait for dark.”
Walker put his hands in his pockets and kept going in silence. Stillman looked at him and a small smile came to his lips. “Don’t worry,” he said. “If we’re right about this, there are two addresses they’ll have to hit in order to win. If they decide to go to Scully’s first, the cops will move in and snap them up.”
“That’s not what you’re hoping for, is it?” said Walker.
Stillman shook his head. “No.”
“You’re hoping they’ll pick the other place,” Walker said. “What you want to do is spot them somehow, and let them lead us to the other dead man’s house.”
Stillman beamed and patted Walker on the shoulder. “It’s not something to be glum about. If they actually get into the house and start searching, all we have to do is call the cops. Even if every single thing went wrong, and we couldn’t get the cops, we could sit and wait. As soon as they finish that house, they’ll still have to go to Scully’s. The cops will put them in a bag.”
For the next few minutes, Walker’s mind kept producing questions, then answering them for itself. What if the chief was wrong, and the two men had not recognized him and Stillman? Then they would break into the houses as planned, and probably be less cautious about it. What if they had come to Coulter for some other purpose that he and Stillman had not thought of? Then they would proceed with it—whatever it was—and Walker and Stillman might catch them at it. What if the two men had seen not only Stillman and Walker but also the police? Then they would either risk an attempt to hit the houses anyway, or they would stay away. No matter which choice they made, nothing would be lost if Walker and Stillman waited.
At Oak Street, Walker turned toward Main, but Stillman said, “Keep going this way.”
“The car is up the other way.”
“Yeah,” said Stillman. “I don’t want to move the car just yet. It’s been there long enough so people will be used to it, and moving it attracts attention.”
“Attention?” Walker’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Stillman. “Are you trying to keep those two guys from seeing us—or the police?”
“By now the chief might have noticed that we’re gone,” said Stillman. “He might say, ‘Good riddance,’ or he might want to keep us where he can reach us so we can identify those two guys. But if he has us sitting in the station, then the opposition gets what it wants: we’re on the sidelines until it’s all over. You know what we need?”
“A lawyer?”
“No,” said Stillman. “A place where we can be out of sight for a while, and still be able to see what’s going on.”
“Too bad it’s not Sunday,” said Walker.
“What do you mean?”
“The church would be open. There used to be a couple of them that looked like that where I grew up. They usually have a way up into the steeple.”
Stillman said nothing, but Walker saw that his eyes rose and he craned his neck to see the church steeple through the treetops, and when he reached the next corner, he turned his steps toward Main Street. He kept going until he was at the rear of the church. There was a small door up a pair of stone slabs that served as steps, but when he tried to turn the handle, it didn’t budge. He muttered, “That’s not what I was hoping for. I thought the damned things were always unlocked.”
“I don’t think anybody rushes in to ask for sanctuary anymore,” said Walker. “I’ll go around and check the front.”
He stepped to the corner of the building, looked up and down for police cars, then ventured the few steps to the front door. He tested the big brass handle and found it unlocked. As he turned to go back for Stillman, he saw that Stillman was already at the corner of the building. Stillman stepped across the lawn, and they were in.
Walker quietly closed the door. They stood motionless in the small foyer and listened. There was a hollowness in the old wooden building that was audible, as though the air in the big empty spaces had a sound of its own. Walker could hear muffled noises from outside—cars passing on Main Street once a minute—but he heard no sound from within.
He took a step and heard the wooden floor creak, then waited without moving for a response, but none came. He took three more steps and was under the wide portal into the sanctuary. The style of the place seemed to him to proclaim its age. The plain, dark, close-grained wood of the pews seemed to have been made of boards two feet wide. There was a pulpit raised slightly on a wooden platform, and beside it on the wall of the plain, shallow nave were two huge high-backed chairs, but there was little adornment. He turned and looked up. There was a balcony at the rear of the sanctuary, probably for a choir. He looked for stained-glass pictures on the windows, but the panes were simply divided into lozenge-shaped patterns of stained glass on the lower half, with thick, clear glass at the tops to let in light.
He returned to the entry to find Stillman looking at him inquiringly. “Nobody’s here,” Walker whispered, then wondered why he needed to.
Stillman spoke only a bit more loudly. “I found the way up. It’s in the cloak room.” He led Walker into a tiny
