he appeared to have dark hair.”
“That sound right to you?” Barry asked Ellen. She nodded. “You didn’t hear his name at all?”
“Mortie was smart enough not to say it out loud,” I said.
“Maybe he wasn’t planning to kill you,” Barry said. “Otherwise, why be careful about that?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“And you say they were here for a disc?”
“Of a book. I told you about this before but you weren’t interested,” I reminded him. “It was a copy of a book that was on a computer owned by Brett Stockwell, a student of Conrad Chase’s years ago, when he was still a professor and not Thackeray’s president.”
Barry was scribbling things in his notebook. “And this disc would be interesting why, again?”
“Because Conrad later published a book that was pretty much that book.”
Barry frowned. “So what are you saying here? The president of Thackeray College sent a couple of thugs to torture you and get that disc and maybe kill you, too?”
“No,” Ellen said. “He’s not saying that. That wouldn’t make any sense because Conrad already has the disc. I gave it to him earlier today.”
I gave her another puzzled look and shook my head.
A uniformed officer came into the kitchen to speak with Barry. “We checked the dead guy for ID,” he told the detective. “Nothing on him but some cash in his pants pocket. Quite a bit of it, too. Looks like a couple grand.”
“Okay,” he said, and the officer went back outside. Barry looked up from his notebook. “So who the hell else would want this disc, then? Who else knew you had it, who might still think you had it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Conrad’s wife, Illeana, suspected I had it, but if Conrad knew we didn’t have it, it stands to reason she knew, too.”
“Anyone else?”
I tried to think. Penny had said she might have mentioned the existence of the book on a computer Derek had found, but had she mentioned a disc? I didn’t think so.
Barry made some more notes, then put down his pen so he could work his fork through his slice of frozen cake, shove it into his mouth. “You know, Jim, I’ve known you a long time, and you’re a pretty good guy, with a pretty good head on your shoulders, but honestly, this is really getting way out there.”
“Barry,” Ellen said, “don’t you think it’s possible that these men who came here tonight are the same ones who killed the Langleys?”
Barry put down his fork. “I don’t know, Ellen.”
“Whatever the reason, whatever they were looking for, isn’t it a bit much to think that what happened here tonight isn’t related to what happened at the Langleys’ a few nights ago?”
Barry slowly finished chewing the cake in his mouth and swallowed.
“The Langleys get murdered, a computer goes missing, and then a few nights later, two men terrorize us, wanting a disc related to that computer. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“I see where you’re going with this, Ellen,” Barry said.
“Our son-Derek-he certainly didn’t have anything to do with this tonight,” my wife told him. “He’s in jail. And he wouldn’t exactly send someone to torture his parents. He didn’t have any more to do with what happened here than he did with what happened at the Langleys’. Barry, you have to let Derek go. He’s innocent.”
Something flashed in Barry’s eyes, like maybe he knew it, too. I hoped he wasn’t the kind of person to sacrifice the life of an innocent to protect his reputation. The arrest of our son was a feather in Barry’s cap for a couple of days there, and plucking it out was going to be embarrassing.
“We’ll see, Ellen,” he said noncommittally. “You know that there’s more to Derek’s relationship with the Langleys than meets the eye.”
We were all silent for a moment, until Ellen leaned in close to Barry, looked him in the eye, and said, “He didn’t do it, and you know it. You know it in your heart.”
Barry pushed the plate away from himself. “I want to talk to all three of you individually.” He looked at Drew. “You first.”
He took Drew outside with him.
Ellen said, “A bank robber?”
“My lawn company doesn’t yet have an advanced screening process for new hires,” I said.
“No no,” Ellen said. “I’m not second-guessing you on that. I just, I don’t know, I don’t think I ever met a bank robber before.”
“I don’t much care at this point if he’s the Boston Strangler,” I said. “I just hope Barry doesn’t do anything stupid and charge him.” I got up, leaned against the fridge, feeling exhausted. The attack on us by our two visitors would have been enough to knock the wind out of me, but the questions surrounding everything that had happened were equally draining.
Some of them needed to be directed at my wife.
“Ellen,” I said, “why’d you give the disc to Conrad?”
“I thought it was the right thing to do, for reasons that are hard to explain.”
“Sometimes,” I said, “I wonder if you still feel something for him.”
Her eyes looked tired, and almost sad. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“What?”
“I despise that man.” She paused. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“Then why are you helping him? Don’t you understand what’s going on here? Can’t you connect the dots? Don’t you see what he’s done?”
“You’re just seeing what you want to see,” Ellen said.
“No, you’re turning a blind eye,” I shot back. “Even if Conrad didn’t send those goons to get us tonight, he’s involved. Somehow, he got wind of the fact that a computer, belonging to his student, the one he stole a book from, had resurfaced. He realized what was on it, and either went over to the Langley house himself or sent someone there to get it. And it all went horribly wrong, and they all ended up dead.”
“No,” Ellen said. “He already had the computer.”
“What?”
“He told me. Earlier, on the Friday that the Langleys were murdered, Albert Langley called him.”
“Wait a minute. Langley gave him the computer?”
“Adam told his father about the computer he and Derek were messing around with, what they’d found on it. Albert immediately recognized what it was, knew the book, knew it was the same as Conrad’s. So he called Conrad, told him about it, and Conrad came by Albert’s office and took it away. He was Conrad’s lawyer. And his friend. From way back.”
I moved away from the fridge, walked slowly to the sink and back again, rubbing my forehead.
“He told you this?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“You believe him?”
Ellen paused. “Yes.”
“God, this is totally. . this is completely fucking with my head,” I said. “But if those guys who came here tonight didn’t know Conrad had the disc, then they must not have known the night they went to the Langleys’ that he already had the computer, too.”
Ellen said, “I don’t know. And I don’t care about any of that. It doesn’t mean anything to me. All I care about now is getting Derek out of jail. I want him out, and then I want to put all this behind us. I don’t care about that goddamn book, I don’t care about Conrad, I don’t give a shit about any of it. None of it matters as long as Derek’s in jail.”
I approached her, slowly at first, then put my arms around her. “I know,” I said. “I know.”
But there were still questions. So maybe Conrad didn’t have anything to do with what had happened here tonight. And maybe he didn’t have anything to do with the murder of the Langleys.
But there was still the matter of his book. And who wrote it.
And if it was Brett Stockwell, and if Conrad wanted to steal his book, how, unless he’d made some deal to pay the boy off, could he allow the boy to live and expect to get away with it?
