Eyes of Prey - Lucas Davenport #3 by John Sandford

Author:John Sandford
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Minneapolis Metropolitan Area (Minn.), Police Procedural, Mystery & Detective, Lucas (Fictitious Character), Minneapolis (Minn.), Private Investigators, Hard-Boiled, General, Mystery Fiction, Saint Paul Metropolitan Area (Minn.), Thrillers, Fiction, Davenport, Horror Tales
ISBN: 9780425214435
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 1991-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

"You're sure?" Lucas asked Swanson. "It's Loverboy?"

Swanson scratched his belly and nodded. "It's gotta be. I went over to Bekker's as soon as I heard. Shook him out of bed. This was about three hours ago, six A. M., and he looked terrible, and I said, 'For the lover, how about Philip George from the law school?' He went like this"--Swanson mimed Bekker's perplexed look--"and he said, quote, If you told me so, I wouldn't be . . . shocked, I guess. I mean, we knew him. Why? Is it him? Unquote. Then I told him about George. He seemed kind of freaked out."

"You got the time George disappeared? It's nailed down? Exactly?"

"Yeah. Within five minutes, I'd bet," Swanson said, nodding. He was unshaven, holding an empty Styrofoam coffee cup, his eyes glassy from fatigue and caffeine. He'd been rousted out of bed at five o'clock, after four hours' sleep.

"There was a guy with him, a student, when George started changing the tire. The student was supposed to get right home to his wife, she's pregnant, due anytime, so he was anxious. Anyway, he's got a clock on the dashboard of his car. He said he looked at it going out of the lot, and remembers it was ten-fourteen. He remembers that close . . . ."

"What about this shrink Shearson's been looking at?"

Swanson shrugged. "I always thought that was bullshit, but Daniel wanted him covered."

"Sonofabitch," Lucas said in a black fury. Del was leaning in the doorway, listening, and Lucas bolted past him, out of his office, took a turn down the hallway, then almost trotted back, his face white. "The cocksucker was using me as an alibi. You know that? I'm Bekker's fuckin' alibi . . . ."

"If George is dead," Swanson said. "That's a pretty big if. And if Bekker had something to do with it . . ."

Lucas poked Swanson in the gut with his index finger. "George is dead. And Bekker did it. Believe it." Lucas turned to Del. "Remember when you said the San Francisco alibi was a little too convenient?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, how about this? He invites an investigating cop over for a drink, to talk, he tries to fuckin' seduce me, man, precisely when the main witness is being taken off. How's that for a motherfucking coincidence?"

Del shrugged. He didn't say "I told you so," but his shoulders did.

Lucas turned back to Swanson, remembering is odd characterization of Bekker.

Bekker had looked fine the night before: sleek, even. Beautiful. "You said he looked terrible? What do you mean?"

"He looked fucked up," Swanson said. "He looked like he was a hundred years old.

He ain't getting no sleep."

" 'Cause he was working a fuckin' murder. That's why. 'Cause he had a murder going down last night," Lucas said. "All right. We're gonna take him down. One way or another"--this time he poked Del--"the motherfucker falls."

Sloan was coming down the hall, rolling an unlit cigarette around between his lips, his hands deep in the pockets of his trench coat.

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