Retribution by Patrick J O'Brian

Author:Patrick J O'Brian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, mystery, police, historical, investigation, springs, coven, jesuits, west baden, grim reaper scythe
Publisher: Patrick J O'Brian

Chapter 23

While McCabe insisted on changing in the restroom of the café the three men stopped at, Clouse ordered coffee, catching glimpses of a peculiar grin forming on his friend’s mouth every minute or so.

“What’s got you so giddy?” he finally asked Daniels.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. You’ve been acting weird all day.” He paused to sip from his coffee mug. “Mark, you’re the most grim, serious person I know. Today it’s like you’re a kid getting a trip to the candy store.”

“Thanks for the kind words.”

Clouse gave a sarcastic complimentary nod.

“Despite my hollow and boring life, I got home last night and made my way upstairs for the first time in a year.”

Clouse gave a puzzled look.

“You know,” Daniels said in a lower voice. “Upstairs. Where my bed is.”

“I still don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“Because I haven’t been able to walk for a year, I’ve been sleeping downstairs alone, where wheelchair access is easier. Cindy took me upstairs last night.”

Clouse thought a moment before what his friend stated finally materialized in his mind.

“Oh,” he said with a momentary hesitation. “You mean you’ve gone a whole year without it?”

Daniels nodded, the relief showing in his face.

“Guess I’d be pretty chipper too.”

McCabe emerged from the restroom carrying his covered suit, wearing jeans and a T-shirt depicting the statement: You can always tell an Irishman when you see him, but you can’t tell him much. He settled into the booth beside Daniels, draping his suit over the seat.

“Welcome back, Turlough,” Daniels said, teasing the detective about his heritage, and his personal obsession with it.

“At least my last name doesn’t have a hundred listings in the phone book,” McCabe retorted. “There’s nothing wrong with a man’s roots.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with us getting this over with,” Clouse stated. “We’ve got a lot to cover.”

Both officers looked at one another guiltily, forgetting momentarily whose funeral they had just come from.

“Okay,” McCabe began. “I’m having no luck whatsoever on this Coven your informant told you about,” he said to Clouse. “Either the group doesn’t exist, or they’re so underground that no police organization has ever heard of them. And that is highly unlikely.”

“It sounded regional,” Clouse recalled aloud. “Local, perhaps.”

“I’ll keep checking, but it doesn’t look promising.”

“What about suspects?” Daniels inquired.

“I’ve eliminated all of the Summers family,” McCabe said, referring to relatives of Clouse’s deceased wife. “Our revenge theory is probably out the window.”

“Unless of course it’s revenge for someone other than Roger Summers,” Daniels noted.

“Are you speaking of David Landamere?” McCabe inquired.

“Not necessarily. Maybe someone’s loved one got axed last year and they hold Paul and me responsible, so they’re taking out everyone else involved, saving us for last.”

“So knocking me unconscious off my boat was just a strong foreshadowing?” Clouse asked his friend with skepticism and a raised eyebrow.

“Who knows? Maybe they intended to pull you out so you would think you’re very lucky. Maybe this whole informant thing you’ve got is one big lie.”

Clouse shook his head.

“I don’t think so.” He looked to McCabe.

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