originally. They were both pretty poor.'
'So it becomes even more puzzling. Why the lawyers coming to the rescue? And I wonder if your parents were getting by on money from an unknown source during the tough times.'
'I guess it's possible,' said Kate, 'but I don't know where from.'
Michelle looked at King. 'Are you thinking the person who talked to Ramsey in his study that night might be connected to the L.A. incident?'
'Look at it this way. This thing happens in L.A. and Arnold Ramsey gets nailed. But what if he wasn't alone in it? What if some person who was well connected was also at fault? That would explain some fancy lawyers swooping in. I know lawyers-they don't usually work for free.'
Michelle was nodding. 'That might explain why the man mentioned Regina Ramsey. Maybe he was recalling the past fights against authority in getting Ramsey to pick up a gun and rejoin the struggle.'
'God, this is all too much,' said Kate. She looked like she might start crying. 'My father was brilliant. He should have been teaching at Harvard or Yale or Berkeley. And then the police lie and his life is over. It's no wonder he rebelled against authority. Where's the justice in that?'
'There isn't any,' answered King.
'I can still remember so vividly when I heard the news.'
'You said you were in algebra class,' said Michelle.
She nodded. 'I went out in the hallway, and there was Thornton and my mother. I knew something bad had happened.'
King looked startled. 'Thornton Jorst was there with your mother? Why?'
'He was the one who told my mother. Didn't he tell you that?'
'No, he didn't,' said Michelle adamantly.
'Why would he have known before your mother?' asked King quizzically.
Kate looked at him, puzzled. 'I don't know. I assumed he heard about it on TV.'
'What time did they come and get you out of class?' asked King.
'What time? I… I don't know. It was years ago.'
'Think, Kate, it's really important.'
She was silent for a minute and then said, 'Well, it was in the morning, well before lunch, I know that. Say eleven o'clock or so.'
'Ritter was killed at 10:32. There is no way the TV stations could have run a story with full particulars, including the identity of the assassin, barely thirty minutes later.'
'And Jorst also had time to pick up your mother?' asked Michelle.
'Well, she wasn't living that far from where I went to school. You have to understand, Atticus isn't that far from Bowlington, about half an hour by car. And my mom lived on the way.'
Michelle and King exchanged anxious glances.
'It couldn't be possible, could it?' said Michelle.
'What? What are you talking about?' asked Kate.
King rose without answering.
'Where are you going?' asked Kate.
'To pay Dr. Jorst a visit,' he said. 'I think there's a lot he hasn't told us.'
'Well, if he didn't tell you about coming to see me at the school that day, maybe he didn't tell you about him and my mother.'
King stared at her. 'What about them?'
'Before she died she and Thornton were seeing each other.'
'Seeing each other?' asked King. 'But you said your mother loved your father.'
'By then Arnold had been dead almost seven years. Thornton and my mother's friendship had endured and had turned into something else.'
'Something else? Like what?' he asked.
'Like they were getting married.'
52
Michelle had gotten only halfway through the Bob Scott file when she received the call from Kate. Since Michelle obviously wouldn't be getting back to it for a while, Joan had taken the box with her to the inn where she was staying and continued to go through it. After her last conversation with King, she needed something to take her mind off that very painful encounter.
When she opened the box and started sifting through its contents, she realized that Parks hadn't been joking: it was a mess. However, she dutifully turned every page, reading each document until it became clear it was not the right Bob Scott. After a couple of hours she called room service for a snack and a pot of coffee. She was going to be here a while, and she had no idea when King and Maxwell would be returning. She started to phone King but then decided against it.
She was nearing the bottom of the box when her scrutiny intensified. She pulled out the sheaf of papers and spread them out on her bed. They appeared to be a warrant for the arrest of one Robert C. Scott. The address where the warrant was to be served was in Tennessee somewhere, although Joan didn't recognize the town's name. From what she could tell, it had to do with a weapons charge. This Bob Scott had some guns he shouldn't have. Whether it was the Bob Scott she was looking for or not, she couldn't tell yet. However, the Bob Scott she knew had loved his guns.
As she read further, it became even more intriguing. The Marshals Service had been engaged, as they often were, to serve the warrant on behalf of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, or ATF. That was probably why Parks had been able to get his hands on this document. Bob Scott might have ties to this current case, but it would have to be from the Ritter angle. And yet they had all speculated that Bruno and Ritter might be connected somehow. They had the murders of Loretta Baldwin and Mildred Martin to show that connection. And yet how could such two very different cases involve all the same parties? What was the common denominator? What! It was driving her mad that the answer might be staring them all in the face and they still couldn't see it.
Her cell phone rang. It was Parks.
'Where are you now?' he asked.
'I'm at the Cedars. I've been going over that box you left. And I think I might have hit on something.' She told him about the warrant.
'Damn, was it served on Scott?'
'I don't know. Presumably not, since if he'd been arrested, it would have shown up somewhere and we'd know about it.'
'If the guy's got warrants issued against him for gun violations, maybe he's the wacko behind all this.'
'But how do we tie him to everything? It doesn't make sense.'
'Agreed,' he said wearily. 'Where are King and Maxwell?'
'They went to talk to Kate Ramsey. She called and said she had some more information for them. They were meeting in Charlottesville.'
'Well, if her father wasn't working alone, the guy she overheard might have been Bob Scott. He would have been in the perfect inside place to set up the hit. A Trojan horse if ever there was one.'
'How do you want to proceed on what I discovered?'
'I say we take a bunch of guys and go check it out. Nice find, Joan. Maybe you're as good as everybody says you are.'
'Actually, Marshal, I'm better.'
As soon as Joan hung up, she jumped as though she'd been electrocuted. 'Oh my God,' she exclaimed, staring at her phone. 'It can't be.' She said the next two words very slowly. 'Trojan horse.'
There was a knock at the door. She opened it, and the attendant carried the tray.
'Over here okay, ma'am?'
'Yes,' said Joan absently. Her mind was truly whirling over this new development. 'That's fine.'
