Plum Island

And I was sure Ms. Beth Penrose was finally considering it. It.

The ferry was slowing as it approached the dock. I asked Beth, 'Have you spoken to the Murphys yet?'

'No. Max did. They're on my list for today.'

'Good. I'll join you.'

'I thought you were quitting.'

'Tomorrow.'

She took her notebook out of her bag and began perusing the pages. She said, 'I need from you the computer printouts that you borrowed.'

'They're at my place.'

'Okay…' She scanned a page and continued, 'I'll call fingerprints and forensic. Plus I've asked the DA for a subpoena for the Gordons' phone records for the last two years.'

'Right. Also, get a list of licensed pistol holders in Southold Township.'

She asked, 'Do you think the murder weapon might be a locally registered weapon?'

'Maybe.'

'Why do you think that?'

'Hunch. Meanwhile, keep dredging and diving for the bullets.'

'We are, but that's a real long shot. Pardon the pun.'

'I have a lot of tolerance for bad puns.'

'Let me guess why.'

'Right. Also, if you round up the hardware on Plum Island, make sure the county does the ballistics tests, not the FBI.'

'I know.'

She detailed a bunch of other odds and ends that needed doing, and I could see she had a neat and orderly mind. She was, also, intuitive and inquisitive. She only lacked experience, I thought, to make a really good detective. To make a great detective she had to learn to loosen up, to get people to talk freely and too much. She came on a little grim and strong, and most witnesses, not to mention colleagues, would get their defenses up. 'Loosen up.'

She looked up from her notebook. 'Excuse me?'

'Loosen up.'

She stayed quiet a moment, then said, 'I'm a little anxious about this case.'

'Everyone is. Loosen up.'

'I'll try.' She smiled. 'I can do impersonations. I can do you. Want to see?'

'No.'

She got all slouchy and wiggley, shoved one hand in her pocket, and scratched her chest with the other, then spoke in a bass voice with a New York City accent, 'Hey, like, what the hell's goin' on with this case? Ya know? What's with this bozo, Nash? Huh? The guy don't know a cow pie from a pizza pie. Guy's got the IQ of a box of rocks. Ya know? The guy's-'

'Thank you,' I said coolly.

She actually laughed, then said to me, 'Loosen up.'

'I do not speak with such a pronounced New York City accent.'

'Well, it sounds like it out here.'

I was a little annoyed, but a little amused, too. I guess.

Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, then I commented, 'I'm thinking that this case doesn't have such a high profile anymore, and that's good.'

She nodded.

I continued, 'Fewer people to deal with-no Feds, no pols, no media, and for you, they won't be assigning more help than you need.' I added, 'When you solve this, you'll be a hero.'

She looked at me a long second, then asked, 'You think we'll solve it?'

'Of course.'

'And if we don't?'

'No skin off my nose. You, on the other hand, will have a career problem.'

'Thanks.'

The ferry hit the rubber bumpers, and the crewmen threw down two lines.

Beth, sort of thinking out loud, said, 'So… in addition to the possibility of bad bugs and bad drugs, now we have the possibility of good drugs, and don't forget that Max told the media it was a double homicide of two homeowners who came on the scene of an ordinary burglary. And you know what? It could still be that.'

I looked at her and said, 'Here's another one for you-and for you only. Consider that Tom and Judy Gordon knew something they weren't supposed to know or saw something on Plum Island that they weren't supposed to see. Consider that someone like Mr. Stevens or your friend Mr. Nash whacked them. Consider that.'

She stayed silent a long time, then said, 'Sounds like a bad movie-of-the-week.' She added, 'But I'll think about it.'

Max called from the lower deck, 'All ashore.'

Beth moved toward the stairway, then asked me, 'What's your cell phone number?'

I gave it to her, and she said, 'We'll split up in the parking lot, and I'll call you in about twenty minutes.'

We joined Max, Nash, and Foster on the stern deck, and we all walked off together with the six Plum Island employees. There were only three people on the dock for the return to Plum, and I was struck again by how isolated the island was.

In the parking field, Chief Sylvester Maxwell of the Southold PD said to everyone, 'I'm satisfied that the most troubling part of this case has been cleared up. I have other duties, so I'm leaving Detective Penrose to work the homicide angle.'

Mr. Ted Nash of the Central Intelligence Agency said, 'I'm satisfied, too, and since there doesn't seem to be a national security breach or an international aspect to this situation, I'm going to recommend that my agency and I be relieved of this case.'

Mr. George Foster of the Federal Bureau of Investigation said, 'It appears that government property has been stolen, so the FBI will remain involved with the case. I'm heading back to Washington today to report. The local FBI office will take charge of this case, and someone will be contacting you, Chief.' He looked at Beth. 'Or you or your superior.'

Detective Elizabeth Penrose of the Suffolk County PD replied, 'Well, it looks like I'm it. I thank you all for your help.'

We were ready to part, but Ted and I had to get in a few last friendly licks. He went first, and said to me, 'I truly hope we meet again, Detective Corey.'

'Oh, I'm sure we will, Ted. Next time try to impersonate a woman. That should be easier for you than an agriculture guy.'

He stared at me and said, 'By the way, I forgot to mention that I know your boss, Detective Lieutenant Wolfe.'

'Small world. He's an asshole, too. But put in a good word for me, will you, pal?'

'I'll be sure to report that you send him your regards and that you're looking very fit to return to duty.'

Foster interrupted as usual and said, 'It's been an interesting and intense twenty-four hours. I think this task force can be proud of its accomplishments, and I have no doubt the local police will bring this case to a satisfactory conclusion.'

I said, 'In summation, long day, good job, good luck.'

Everyone was shaking hands now, even me, though I didn't know if I was out of a job, or if I ever had a job to be out of. Anyway, brief goodbyes were said, and no one got smarmy or promised to write or meet again, and no one kissed and hugged or anything. Within a minute, Max, Beth, Nash, and Foster were in their own cars and were gone, and I was standing alone in the parking field with my finger up my nose. Weird. Last night everyone thought the Apocalypse had arrived, the Pale Horseman had begun his terrible ride. And now, no one gave a rat's ass about two dead vaccine thieves in the morgue. Right?

I began walking to my car. Who was in on the cover-up? Obviously, Ted Nash and his people, and George Foster, since he'd also been on the earlier ferry with Nash and the four guys in suits who'd disappeared in the