Vengeance Is Mine (15 page)

 

 

“Damn!” He swore yet again as he opened the sugar box. Nothing was going right this morning. The sugar was all glued together in a block in the bottom, and it looked as hard as a rock. Steve tried to chip out a little with a spoon, but the handle bent in his hand. Forget the sugar. He'd have coffee for breakfast. Black.

Steve sighed as he sat down at the table and sipped his lukewarm coffee. The tree outside his kitchen window was black and stark against the morning sky. It looked dead.

Four bodies in the morgue. Four murders and no witnesses, unless he lucked out and found the bishop and the nun. He had only one thing to go on. All the murders had taken place at night, and all the victims had been bludgeoned to death with a T-shaped weapon with sharp silver points. He'd been over this so many times.

Pete whimpered, and Steve picked him up. The little dog licked his hand, and Steve scratched him behind the ears.

“I've got to find the connection, Pete. There's some sort of logic behind this whole thing. The builder, the lawyer, the mayor, and the art teacher. There's a reason the killer picked those four particular men. What is it?”

“WinterGame?”

Michele stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. She was carrying a small Playmate cooler.

“Michele! I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“That's all right. I want to help. Why don't you take a shower while I get us something to eat? I brought some things with me, just in case.”

By the time Steve came back to the kitchen Michele had made steaming hot coffee. There was a carton of cream and a box of sugar on the table. Michele set down two plates, and Steve's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Eggs sunnyside up, just the way he liked them. Bacon, crisp and curly. Toast, buttered with strawberry jam. And a whole box of sweet rolls from the Townhouse Bakery!

“You're an amazing woman, Michele.”

Steve caught her around the waist and gave her a big kiss. This breakfast was a miracle, every bit as impressive as the loaves and fishes.

“Sit down and eat, Steve.” Michele waited until he had sat down at the table and wolfed down the first of his food. “Now, what do you think? Could the connection be WinterGame?”

Steve chewed and swallowed. “It's possible, Michele. The only victim who wasn't directly connected to WinterGame was Dale Kline, but it's possible the killer knew he was Brian's lawyer.”

“Every person in town knew that. Dale appeared on Margaret's interview show last Friday.”

“That's it!” Steve reached out to grab Michele's hand. “Margaret's interview show. When did Ray Perini appear?”

“He was on a week ago, right after he'd won the bid to build the ALC.”

“Right.” Steve pulled out a chair for Michele. “Sit down. This is important. How about Les?”

“His tape was run on Sunday. Trish mentioned it at the dinner party.”

“Brian?”

“Brian's tape has been running since last Wednesday. It was the first WinterGame interview.”

“Jesus, Michele, how many WinterGame spots has Margaret run?”

“Wait a second. Let me think. Judith's tape was aired over the weekend, Saturday, I think, and Louise was on yesterday, right after Trish's opening speech.”

Michele's face turned pale. She set her coffee cup down so hard, it sloshed over.

“Steve? I—I just remembered. My tape's scheduled to run today.”

CHAPTER 17

Carol was sitting behind her desk when Steve and Michele rushed into the office.

“We've got problems, boss. Hi, Michele. It's so terrible about Brian. My cousin took one of his art classes, and she said Brian was the best teacher she'd ever had.”

“The problems, Carol?”

“Oh, yes. Tom called from the gun shop out at the crossroads. He's scheduled to open at ten, and it looks like there's going to be a run on handguns. People are lining up by the front door already. He thinks he might need some help.”

“Okay, Carol. Tell Ken Menke and Danny Beesman to get right out there. Next?”

“There's a traffic snarl at Garfield Elementary. Lots of parents are driving their kids to school this morning because they don't want them waiting out on the corner for the buses. I sent Butch Wilkins over there to direct traffic. Do you want him to go out when they dismiss too?”

“Good idea. Send a car to each of the schools. You can call in someone to help you in the office, Carol. Things are going to get pretty busy around here.”

“I already did. Rita Nillsen's on her way. Oh, boss? I sent Doug Phillips out to find Mrs. Burkholtz's cat. He got out this morning, and she was afraid to go look for him.”

“You'd better get out the list of retired officers and put them on call, Carol. I want lots of manpower available.”

“Mark and Phil are doing that now. I figured you'd need lots of extras.”

Steve turned to Michele and grinned. “Just in case you're wondering, Carol runs this whole place. I'm not really needed at all.”

“That's not true,” Carol protested, but she looked pleased at the compliment. “I try to free you for the really important work, that's all.”

Steve's private line rang, and Carol hurried to answer it. In a moment she was back.

“Henry Corliss called. He wants to know if you can meet him at his office at two.”

“I've got an eight-thirty meeting at Margaret's studio, but I'm free after that. Tell Henry I'll be there.”

“Okay, boss. Any message for Bernice at the switchboard? The phones have been ringing off the hook.”

“Just that we're proceeding with the investigation and any updates will be on the local news. Tell her to try to calm the people down if she can. Is it bad out there, Carol?”

Carol nodded. “I got fifteen calls this morning at home. Jim finally unplugged the phone. Everyone thinks I've got the inside scoop because I'm your secretary.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I said that you had everything under control and they shouldn't worry. I might have mentioned something about the fact that an arrest is imminent. You'd better get over to your meeting, boss. It's almost eight-twenty. Is Michele going with you?”

Steve nodded. “Think of us as inseparable until this thing is over. Michele's under official police protection.”

Michele looked back at Carol as they rushed out the door. Carol was mouthing something that looked like “lucky girl.”

 

 

There was a box of Mister Donut on Margaret's coffee table, and Michele raised her eyebrows as Steve reached for a chocolate-covered one. How did he do it? He'd finished every bite of his breakfast between phone calls, and when she came back to the kitchen after getting dressed, half the cinnamon rolls from the bakery were gone. It seemed impossible that Steve could still be hungry.

Michele started adding up Steve's breakfast calories in her head. Two eggs fried in butter, 200 calories. Two slices of whole wheat bread loaded with butter and strawberry jam, 350. Four strips of extra-thick bacon, 250. Six cinnamon rolls. They were small, but Michele knew they had to be at least 100 calories apiece. Steve had eaten a 1,400-calorie breakfast chock-full of carbohydrates and cholesterol, and she could testify that there wasn't an ounce of fat on his body. She'd spent her whole life hating people like Steve. If she ate that much, she'd blow up like the Goodyear blimp.

Steve dialed the phone and began to talk to Henry Corliss. He reached for another doughnut, a maple bar this time. Michele sighed and realized she'd have to go for groceries again before the day was over. If she stayed with Steve much longer, it might pay to buy food by the case.

“I got here as fast as I could.”

Trish hurried into the room and sank into a chair. Michele noticed that her makeup was hastily applied this morning and her hands were shaking.

“This is terrible, Steve. I got three calls this morning from the Minneapolis press. Everyone wants an interview about Brian.”

Margaret set a cup of coffee down in front of Trish.

“Just calm down, Trish. We'll handle it. Steve's called a meeting of all the principals to decide how to proceed. We're waiting for Judith and Louise to get here.”

“I'm here.” Judith rushed into the room. “I hope you don't mind, but I brought Toni. I didn't want to leave her at the loft alone.”

“That's fine.” Steve nodded. “Just grab a chair, Toni. We can use all the help we can get.”

Louise was the last to arrive. She had Randy with her.

“Could Randy wait in your reception room, Margaret? Lisa asked me to take him to school this morning. She didn't want him out there waiting for the bus alone.”

“I'll find someone to take him. Help yourself to a doughnut, Randy, and then come with me. You can eat it on the way to school.”

In a moment Margaret was back. She handed Steve a file. “Jane just typed this up. It's a complete list of every interview I've aired over the past two weeks.”

“Thanks, Margaret. Let's get started.” Steve scanned the list and looked up. “You're all here because you've appeared on Margaret's show. There seems to be a connection between the murders and Margaret's guests. I'll run it down for you.”

Steve glanced at the list again, and read off the names.

“Ray Perini. Appeared on the third, died on the sixth. Dale Kline. Appeared on the seventh, killed on the eighth. Mayor Hollenkamp. We held back the details from the public, but Les was murdered. He appeared on the ninth and died on the ninth. Brian Nordstrom. Brian appeared for the first time on the fifth, and he was killed last night. There's definitely a pattern here.”

“Oh, my God!” Judith grabbed for Toni's hand. “My interview was run on Saturday.”

Steve nodded. “And Trish's speech was televised yesterday afternoon, followed by Louise's WinterGame spot. I'm arranging round-the-clock police protection for each of you.”

“Are you
sure
we're in danger?” Louise swallowed nervously. “The connection could be something else, couldn't it, Steve?”

“It could be anything, Louise, but I'm playing it safe. Any objections?”

Michele held her breath as one by one they shook their heads. They all looked as frightened as she had been before Steve called Margaret to cancel Michele's WinterGame interview.

“There's one more thing we have to settle. I think it's advisable to postpone WinterGame until this thing is over.”

“We
can't
.” Judith looked alarmed. “We'll lose all our funding if we cancel, Steve. The state gave us a February fifteenth deadline. We signed an agreement. They'll match any funds we've raised by that date and lend us up to fifty thousand dollars toward our construction costs, but we'll lose the loan option if we go past the deadline.”

“Can't you file for an extension?”

“No. I've already checked on that. February fifteenth is the deadline, no exceptions. We've
got
to go on with WinterGame.”

Steve nodded slowly. “All right, Judith. I'll muster up all the extra security I can, but I don't think you'll get much of a turnout. People are just too frightened to go out.”

Margaret glanced around the table. They all knew Steve was right. They couldn't raise money if people were afraid to attend the events. All it took was one terrorist to ruin months of hard planning. It was a damned shame.

“I'm sorry, Judith.” Margaret reached out to pat her hand. “It's so unfortunate. I'll do my best to promote on the air, but people aren't as brave as they used to be. It's a pity we're not pioneers, wagons in a circle, one man with a shotgun riding point, that sort of thing—”

Margaret stopped abruptly. There might just be a way to get the people out, but it would take a lot of planning. She had the resources at her disposal. Could she do it in time?

“Two questions, Steve.” Margaret's voice reflected the excitement she felt. “All the murders took place at night when the victim was alone. Is that right?”

Steve nodded.

“And none of them occurred at WinterGame, which is patrolled by your men.”

“Right.”

“Then I've got it. I don't know if I can do anything about the figure skating this afternoon, but I can promise you'll have an audience for the hockey game tonight.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Steve asked her.

“Never mind.” Margaret grinned at Steve. “Just do your thing and assign bodyguards to these people. I've got work to do.”

 

 

Michele pulled her stocking cap a little lower over her ears and matched steps with Steve. Since all her appointments at the clinic had canceled, she had nothing to do until the figure skating trials this afternoon. They were walking to the station to get Steve's car. Then he'd take her to Judith's so she could help with the preparations for this afternoon's event.

“Wait just a second, Steve.”

Michele stopped and looked around. Nothing was moving, and they were the only pedestrians on the whole length of the mall. The entire downtown area was deserted. It felt almost as if she and Steve were the last people left alive.

Steve took her arm and pulled her close.

“It's eerie, isn't it?”

Michele nodded. “It reminds me of the westerns they show on late-night television. All the people are barricaded inside, waiting for the bad guy to ride into town and shoot it out with the sheriff.”

“And that's me?”

“That's you.”

“Great. What happens if the sheriff misses?”

Michele slipped her arm around Steve's waist and hugged him hard.

“I guess you're not a western fan. If the sheriff misses, some loyal citizen gets brave and shoots the bad guy in the back from an open window. Don't you know the good guy always wins in the end?”

Steve bent down and kissed her right there in the middle of the street. With his lips pressed to hers, he couldn't say what he was thinking.

“Steve?” Michele pulled back slightly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Steve looked down at her. She was so sweet.

“I don't think so, honey. Not unless you can find me that bishop.”

Steve took her arm and they walked across the mall toward Osco Drugs. It was empty except for a nervous countergirl. Granite City Bridal had a sign in the window,
CLOSED TODAY.
Dan Marsh Drugs was open, but it was impossible to see over the display of Valentine Day's candy in the window. Steve was willing to bet that there wasn't a single customer inside.

They passed the Mexican Village restaurant, and Steve pointed to the sign on the door. “Look at that, Michele. It proves that people are running scared. Even the Mexican Village is closed.”

“Of course they are. It's only ten in the morning, and they don't open for lunch until eleven-thirty.”

“You're right.” Steve gave her a sheepish grin and shook his head. “Damn! This thing's got me stumped. I just can't seem to put it all together.”

Michele hugged him again. “You'll figure it out, Steve. I know you will.”

A beat-up Chevy made an abrupt U-turn at the end of the mall and pulled over close to the sidewalk. One fender was green, and the trunk was brown. The rest of the car was blue and it looked as if it had been pieced together with spare parts from the junkyard.

“Steve, come here, quick!”

Doug Phillips rolled down the window and motioned for them to hurry. The minute they were inside, he pulled away fast.

“What's going on, Doug? I thought you were off duty.”

“I am. Carol caught me in the parking lot, just as I was leaving. She said she'd make me a permanent meter maid if I didn't find you and keep you away from the station.”

Michele did a double take. Doug Phillips looked like a tackle for the Vikings. Carol was barely five feet tall, but she had Doug thoroughly cowed.

Doug drove straight past the police station and turned onto Division.

“There's a television crew from Minneapolis camping out on the station steps. Carol said to warn you. If you don't want to give an interview, you'd better hole up somewhere fast.”

“Thanks, but I might as well face them. I've decided to go public with this thing, Doug. I just finished taping an interview with Margaret Whitworth.”