CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When Maven and Allen had finished with me, I called Uttley. I didn’t answer any of his questions. I just told him to come and get me. I stood outside the station house waiting for him, looking out past the courthouse at the locks and beyond them the bridge to Canada. The storm had passed, but the remaining clouds filtered what sunlight there was into an otherwordly glow. Everything looked wrong and I felt sick to my stomach.
That bridge marks the northern end of one of the longest highways in America, Interstate 75. You can take it dead south more than a thousand miles, right out of Michigan, through Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, all the way to Florida. Forget what Maven had said about not leaving. I could just get on that road and go. Never come back.
Would Rose follow me? How long would it take for him to find me again?
Uttley finally showed up in my truck. “God, Alex,” he said when I opened the driver’s side door. “What happened to you?”
“Just move over,” I said.
I pulled out of the parking lot and headed across town. Uttley watched me for a while and then finally said, “Where are we going?”
“To your office.”
“I told Mrs. Fulton we’d come back,” he said. “And my car. It’s still at the casino.”
“We’ll get it later,” I said.
We came to a red light and sat there for a full minute. I closed my eyes and took a long breath. “How are they doing?” I said.
“Mrs. Fulton is a mess,” he said. “I guess that’s understandable. Sylvia finally came inside, but she refused to change out of her wet clothes. When I left, she was just standing at the window, looking out at the lake.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Are you going to tell me what happened at the station?” he said.
“They think I killed Edwin. And everybody else.”
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“I’m not kidding you.” I told him everything that had happened.
He listened to the whole story, shaking his head. “So they didn’t charge you?” he said.
“No. But they told me to stay in town.”
“Goddamn it, I knew I should have gone with you.”
“What good would that have done?”
“You need a lawyer, Alex,” he said. “This is insane.”
“Well, you’re right, I do need you to help me,” I said. “But I’m not going to worry about those two clowns right now.” I stopped the truck in front of his office.
“What are we doing, Alex? Why are we here?”
“We need to call the prison again,” I said. I got out and waited for him. He sat there rubbing his forehead for a long moment and then he finally got out of the truck.
When we got into his office, he sat down behind his desk and looked at his watch. It wasn’t even noon yet. I winced as I sat down in the guest chair. Everything hurt. I felt a hundred years old.
“Where was that guy’s number?” he said. He went through a pile of papers on his desk and finally found it. After he had dialed, he turned on the speaker phone and put the receiver down.
A voice answered, “Corrections, Browning speaking.”
“Mr. Browning,” Uttley said. “This is Lane Uttley in Sault Ste. Marie. We spoke a couple days ago.”
“Yes, you were asking about an inmate.”
“Maximilian Rose,” he said, looking up at me. “I have Mr. McKnight with me here in the office. We’re sorry to bother you again, but I’m afraid our situation has gotten much worse. I mean, we’ve had another, um-”
I picked up the receiver. “This is McKnight,” I said. “I want you to listen to me very carefully. I have good reason to believe that Maximilian Rose is here in the area, and that he’s responsible for three murders.”
“That’s impossible,” Browning said. “That man is here in prison. We’ve gone through this already.”
“I don’t care what you’ve gone through,” I said. “You have to believe me. Something is not right down there. I don’t know how it happened, but I don’t think that man you have is Rose.”
“Mr. McKnight, I told this to Mr. Uttley and now I’m going to tell it to you. I personally took the man’s mug shot and went and stood in front of the man’s cell. He has grown a pretty big beard since then, but-”
“What? A beard? Nobody told me about a beard before.” I looked at Uttley. He just shrugged his shoulders.
“Yes, the man has a beard now. But it’s the same man.”
“How can you know for sure?” I said. “He must look totally different now. I mean, whoever that is. He must not look like the picture.”
“Mr. McKnight.” I could tell he was fighting down his anger. He spoke as slowly to me as he would to a child. “If I stopped shaving, a month later, I would have a beard. A year later, I’d have a big beard. But I’d still be the same man.”
“Why won’t he see me? Explain that to me.”
“I don’t know why he won’t see you. It doesn’t matter why. We can’t force him.”
“I want you to fax me his mug shot,” I said. “And then I want you to go take a Polaroid of the man in the cell and fax me that, too. I’ll give you Uttley’s fax number.”
“If a law enforcement officer makes that request, then I’ll do it, sir.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said. “Why can’t you just do it for us?”
“If there’s a murder investigation going on up there and you think somehow Rose is involved, why aren’t the police talking to me?” he said. “You have to admit, this looks mighty strange.”
I didn’t know what to say. They aren’t calling you because they think I did it? How far would that answer get me?
“I don’t have time to explain it,” I said. “Please, you have to believe me. Three people are dead.”
“Have the police call me.”
“I’m begging you,” I said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Then go to hell.” I slammed the phone down.
I just sat there looking at the floor. Uttley didn’t say anything for a while. And then finally, “So now what?”
“We take you back to your car,” I said. “So you can go back to the Fultons’ house.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
“No. I don’t think I should be there right now.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go try to find him.”
“Where?” he said.
“I don’t know. Everywhere.”
“The police should be doing that.”
“They aren’t.”
“Are they going to keep the man outside your cabin, at least?”
“No,” I said. “Why should they?”
“Goddamn it,” he said. He picked up the phone. “I’m going to call that bastard right now.”
“Don’t call him.”
“What?”
“I don’t want a man there anymore.”
“Why not?”
“In his note, Rose said that he knew the man was there. I don’t know how, but he knew.”
“I don’t get it,” he said.
“Don’t you see? It’s not safe for an officer to be there in his car if Rose knows he’s there.”
“But what happens if he shows up now?”
