Sandford, John - Virgil Flowers 08 - Deadline by Sanford John

Author:Sanford, John [Sanford, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller
ISBN: 9780425275184
Amazon: B00INIQTY2
Barnesnoble: B00INIQTY2
Goodreads: 24611576
Publisher: G.P. Putnam’s Sons
Published: 2014-10-07T05:00:00+00:00

16

VIRGIL CALLED HIS FRIEND in the attorney general’s office about getting a court order for the surveillance equipment. “You don’t need a court order for a public meeting,” the lawyer said.

“I’m told they kick everybody out, saying that that meeting concerns personnel action,” Virgil said. “I was told that was an exception.”

“Hmm. Yeah, it probably is. You got anything on which we could base a court order?”

“Got two witnesses,” Virgil said. He explained, and possibly polished the potential testimony. “The fact is, if we don’t get anything with the camera, we’ll never mention it. If we do, then people won’t care what prior testimony we had—anything will work.”

“Okay, let me talk to the big guy, see if he’s up for a court order. Is this gonna come back to us anywhere?”

“Only if you prosecute some people for stealing a few million bucks from the state, taking full credit for cleaning up public corruption and stopping the theft of taxpayer funds, on your way to the governor’s office.”

“You do know how to present a concept, I’ll give you that,” the lawyer said. “Okay. I’ll push it, call you back tonight. You got the gear?”

“I can get it.”

“Stay by the phone.”

—

VIRGIL WOUND UP the day by backtracking to the Gedneys’ house. Jennifer Gedney wasn’t home, so he knocked on a neighbor’s door and asked the woman who answered where Gedney worked, and was told that she was the manager at the Woolen Mill, on Main Street. “Can’t miss it: looks like a windmill.”

Virgil drove out to the edge of the business district and found a two-story replica of a Dutch windmill, with two cars in the parking lot. One, he remembered, was Gedney’s; the other belonged to the customer with whom Gedney was talking when Virgil went inside.

Gedney did a double take when Virgil walked in; Virgil busied himself with some balls of yarn in a bushel basket, and Gedney hurried her customer along and when she’d gone, asked, “What do you want?”

“Heard anything from Buster?”

“Not a word. He’s run away, and it’s your fault, with your threats. I’m talking to a lawyer.”

“Good luck with that,” Virgil said. “I’ll tell you what, Mrs. Gedney. Buster was about to give me the whole bunch of you. I guess he couldn’t stand the stress. But we’ll find him. One of the two of you is going to prison—if you want to talk to me first, it’ll be Buster. If not, well, like I said, we’ll find him. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Get out of here.”

“You know who the last guy was, who told me to get out of here? Roy Zorn. Two days later, he was shot in the back. So, take care of your back. People see me coming around to your place, they might think you’re making a deal.”

She pointed at the door: “Get out.”

—

MODERATELY PLEASED with himself—adding another log to the fire—Virgil called Shrake.

“We’re on it. We looked over the whole place, and set up on the bank right behind the cabin.

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