فصل 27 - بخش 11

27

Marcy Maitland had grown exceedingly wary of callers since her husband’s public arrest, not to mention his public execution, so when the knock came at her door, she first went to the window, twitched aside the drapes, and peeped out. It was Detective Anderson’s wife on the stoop, and it looked like she had been crying. Marcy hurried to the door and opened it. Yes, those were tears, and as soon as Jeannie saw Marcy’s concerned face, they started again.

‘What is it? What’s happened? Are they all right?’

Jeannie stepped in. ‘Where are your girls?’

‘Out back under the big tree, playing cribbage with Terry’s board. They played all last night and started again early this morning. What’s wrong?’

Jeannie took her by the arm and led her into the living room. ‘You might want to sit down.’

Marcy stood where she was. ‘Just tell me!’

‘There’s good news, but there’s also terrible news. Ralph and the Gibney woman are all right. Lieutenant Sablo was shot, but they don’t believe it’s life-threatening. Howie Gold and Mr Pelley, though … they’re dead. Shot from ambush by a man my husband works with. A detective. Jack Hoskins is his name.’

‘Dead? Dead? How can they be—’ Marcy sat heavily in what had been Terry’s easy chair. It was either that or fall down. She stared up at Jeannie uncomprehendingly. ‘What do you mean, good news? How can there be … Jesus, it just keeps getting worse.’

She put her hands over her face. Jeannie dropped to her knees beside the chair and pulled them away, gently but firmly. ‘You need to get yourself together, Marcy.’

‘I can’t. My husband’s dead, and now this. I don’t think I’ll ever be together again. Not even for Grace and Sarah.’

‘Stop it.’ Jeannie’s voice was low, but Marcy blinked as if she had been slapped. ‘Nothing can bring Terry back, but two good men died to redeem his name and give your girls a chance in this town. They have families, too, and I’ll have to talk to Elaine Gold after I leave here. That’s going to be awful. Yune has been hurt, and my husband risked his life. I know you’re in pain, but this part is not about you. Ralph needs your help. So do the others. So pull yourself together and listen.’

‘All right. Yes.’

Jeannie lifted one of Marcy’s hands and held it. The fingers were cold, and Jeannie supposed her own weren’t much warmer.

‘Everything Holly Gibney told us was true. There was an outsider, and he wasn’t a man. He was … something else. Call him El Cuco, call him Dracula, call him the Son of Sam or of Satan, it doesn’t matter. He was there, in a cave. They found him and killed him. Ralph told me he looked like Claude Bolton, although the real Claude Bolton was miles away. I talked to Bill Samuels before I came over here. He thinks that if we all tell the same story, everything will be okay. It’s likely we can clear Terry’s name. If we all tell the same story. Can you do that?’

Jeannie could see hope filling Marcy Maitland’s eyes like water filling a well.

‘Yes. Yes, I can do that. But what is the story?’

‘The meeting we had was only about trying to clear Terry’s name. Nothing else.’

‘Just about clearing his name.’

‘At that meeting, Bill Samuels agreed to re-interview all the witnesses Ralph and the other officers questioned, starting with Willow Rainwater and working backward. Right?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘The reason he couldn’t start with Claude Bolton is that Mr Bolton is in Texas, helping out with his mother, who’s not well. Howie suggested that he, Alec, Holly, and my husband should go down there and question Claude. Yune said he would join them if possible. Do you remember that?’

‘Yes,’ Marcy said, nodding rapidly. ‘We all thought that was an excellent idea. But I don’t remember why Ms Gibney was at the meeting.’

‘She was the investigator Alec Pelley hired to check on Terry’s movements in Ohio. She got interested in the case, so she came down to see if she could give further assistance. Remember now?’

‘Yes.’

Holding Marcy’s hand, looking into Marcy’s eyes, Jeannie gave her the last and most important part. ‘We never discussed shape-changers, or el cucos, or ghostly projections, or anything that might be called supernatural.’

‘No, absolutely not, it never crossed our minds, why would it?’

‘We thought that someone who looked like Terry killed the Peterson boy and tried to frame him for it. We called this person the outsider.’

‘Yes,’ Marcy said, squeezing Jeannie’s hand. ‘That’s what we called him. The outsider.’