He flipped open the cover of the file and took out the three documents under discussion. He handed them in turn to Mancini. “Here’s the sketch Lou Raymond made of the scene, showing where everyone was at the time of the shooting. Here’s the report from Melissa Lowery, and the memo to the file from Connor Shields.”
He gave John a minute to look over the documents, then said, “You’ll notice Brendan Shields is not listed on the personnel list, and his name does not appear on the diagram Lou made showing where everyone was standing. But Lowery notes that she saw Brendan exiting the building-the building from which the shots were fired that killed Dylan Shields and badly injured his brother Aidan-right after she and the others arrived on the scene.” He leaned over the desk to point to a section on the back of the report. “As you can see, Brendan was noted carrying a high-powered rifle in one hand and a rifle case in the other. Lowery’s report notes he told her that he’d gone into the building to see if he could apprehend the shooter, but found the building empty of all except Bureau personnel at that time.”
John studied the sketch.
“Here you see who all went into the building; Lou places them all right here.” Luther pointed to the sketch showing six stick figures representing each of the agents who had gone into the building after Dylan had been shot. “Brendan is not represented on the sketch.”
“So we have one report indicating that Brendan was on the scene, in the building, with a high-powered rifle-despite the fact that his name does not appear on the list of assigned personnel. And we have a sketch by a fellow agent that doesn’t place him on the team that went into the building, yet he was seen coming out right around the time that some of the other agents arrived on the scene.” John rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It is incriminating.”
“And, sir, you have the report from Connor Shields there.” Luther pointed to it.
“The significance of that is…” John skimmed the report. “Of course. I remember. Connor was supposed to have been on this op with Aidan. At the last minute, we pulled him off to sent him to…” He hesitated. “We needed him someplace else that night. We sent Dylan in as a substitute because he and Connor look so much alike that even-”
He stopped in midsentence, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.
“They looked so much alike, even someone in their own family couldn’t tell them apart in the dark.” Luther finished the sentence.
“You seem to be implying that Brendan thought he was killing Connor,” John said thoughtfully.
“I think the evidence could be interpreted that way.”
“Why would Brendan want to kill Connor?”
“I guess you would have to ask Connor that, sir.”
“I guess I will.” John nodded. “In the meantime, let’s get back to what happened tonight.”
“Yes, sir. I went to Brendan Shields’s home with the copies I’d made of the reports.”
“Was he expecting you?”
“Well, I’d called him earlier in the afternoon, and-”
“Did you tell him what you’d found?”
“Not in so many words, but I may have implied it. I probably did.” Luther appeared contrite for a moment. “In retrospect, I should have kept my mouth shut about that.”
“What time was that?”
“Late afternoon, early evening. Maybe around six or so.”
John gestured for him to continue.
“Anyway, I called him again, just a few minutes before I arrived. I’d been to his house once before, but wasn’t sure of where to turn off Capital Road. He told me he was just leaving, and that now wasn’t a good time for me to come by. He tried to brush me off, but since I was almost there-”
“Did he give you directions then?”
“No…”
“You said you weren’t sure where you were going. How did you find the house?”
“A lucky guess, I suppose.”
“Lucky for Dr. McCall.” Kimble nodded.
“Yes. Well, I pulled up in front of the house, and I saw Agent Shields exiting the front door with Dr. McCall. He had her by the arm, and it looked as if he was steering her along. I got out of the car and called to him. He turned slightly, and that’s when I saw he had his gun in his right hand.”
“Where was the gun pointed?”
“Square at Dr. McCall’s back.”
“So you did what?”
“I called to him to drop the gun, to let her go. But he sort of pulled her in front of him as he came down the sidewalk. By this time, he had the gun raised and pointed in my direction, and he appeared to be about to fire, so I fired first. There were civilians in the area, the woman next door had started out of her house and went back in-”
“How many shots did you fire?”
“Two.”
“How many shots did Agent Shields fire?”
“None, sir. I shot him before he could fire.”
“And both of your shots struck Agent Shields.”
“Yes, sir.” Luther lowered his voice and tried to appear sorrowful. He gave it his all. “Sir, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. I’ve known Agent Shields for years-God, we worked together-I couldn’t believe what I was seeing in that file. I wanted to talk to him about it, I thought there must be another explanation. That’s why I went there. I wanted him to tell me there was another reason why he’d been in that building before the rest of the team went in, why he was there at all, since he hadn’t been part of that team.” Luther looked up at his boss and said sadly, “I’d tried, but I couldn’t think of one.”
“Why do you suppose Dr. McCall was there?”
“I have no idea, sir. I guess you’ll have to talk to her about that.”
“Oh, I’ll definitely do that.”
“Just out of curiosity, why had you pulled the McCullum file?” John asked.
“Oh. Well, I was looking for the name of a CI that we used in that case. I have another case in Detroit and I could use a little inside information.”
“Did you find it?”
“Yes, thanks. I already put in a call.”
“Good. In the meantime, we owe you a huge thank-you. It appears you may very well have saved Dr. McCall’s life. Of course we need your gun and your badge until the investigation is complete…”
Luther nodded solemnly.
“… and the Director is going to want to talk to you first thing in the morning. He and the Shields brothers-that’s the last generation, Thomas and Frank-go way back. This is going to be very hard on everyone; I’m sure you understand that. But God only knows what might have happened to Annie if you hadn’t been there to save her.”
“I only did what any of us would have done, sir.”
John nodded and stood up, a clear sign that the interview was over.
Luther was half out the door when John called to him. “I’m going to ask you not to discuss this with anyone for the time being. We have the local police to deal with. We’re going to try to keep this out of the press as much as possible. I don’t have to tell you what a PR nightmare this is going to be. And then there’s the Shields family. As I’m sure you know, they’ve given more than their share to the Bureau. Brendan’s father is going to be heartbroken over this whole thing. We need to be sensitive and respectful of their situation. And it goes without saying that I have your word you will not be leaving the area.”
For a moment, John Mancini appeared to be about to cry.
Luther left the office feeling better than he had in a long, long time.
Were it not for the fact that it would surely have drawn suspicion, he’d have been skipping down the hall and whistling a happy tune. He’d gotten rid of one horrendous thorn in his side and made himself look like a hero at the same time. Oh, sure, his original plan had been to get rid of Annie, too, but then that woman next door had come out and blown that.
What the hell, at least he’d come out of it looking good. And it was actually better for him in the long run, he rationalized as he walked to the elevator. Annie could corroborate his version of what happened, and no one would ever question Anne Marie McCall.
All in all, it had been a very good day.
24
Connor sat in the darkened room, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass until it spun like a whirlpool. If there ever was a time in his life when he wanted oblivion, it was now.
He’d been en route from his weeklong rest in Essaouira to his latest assignment when he’d gotten the call from John Mancini on his cell.
“Call me from a secure line. Now.”
It had taken Connor another hour to return to the Villa Andre and make the call. He’d spent every minute since wishing he had not.
His cousin Brendan was dead, shot by a fellow agent who’d seen Brendan with a gun pointed at Annie McCall’s back.
At first he’d been tempted to laugh out loud. How crazy was that scenario? Brendan holding a gun on Annie? Was he kidding?
Then came the bombshell.
