The Marble Mask by Mayor Archer

Author:Mayor, Archer [Mayor, Archer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: USA
ISBN: 9781939767103
Publisher: MarchMedia
Published: 2000-03-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I SLOWLY SLID MY STOCKINGED FEET UNDER GAIL’S bottom, careful not to spill the mug of soup cradled in my hands. We were sitting opposite one another on an overstuffed couch in her condo outside Montpelier, wrapped in heavy terry cloth robes, our legs entwined, our bodies tired and pampered from making love and sitting too long in a hot tub afterward. I’d taken a short break from the investigation to allow Lacombe and his bunch time to build a case against Marcel Deschamps, and to report our progress to Bill Allard in Waterbury, just a short drive from Gail’s.

As usual, she was analyzing the recent past in practical political terms. “This must have made your various bosses happy,” she said. “It’s not every day you get handed a half-century-old homicide and solve it overnight. I heard the governor blowing VBI’s horn on the news this afternoon—talking about how well a tactical approach can cut through the red tape.”

I let the strong aroma of hot soup fill my nostrils before taking a cautious sip. “I hope he doesn’t have to apologize later,” I said after a pause.

Her eyebrows rose. “Is there a chance of that?”

I tried a vague approach. “It’s up to the prosecutors now. It is an extradition case, after all—we can’t have at him unless the Canadians think there’s just cause. You know how that can go.”

I should have known better. Her expression turned serious. “You sound like the case might be shaky.”

“There are questions. We all think this came together pretty easily.”

“Marcel Deschamps didn’t do it?”

I made a face and shrugged. “The evidence said he did. Means, motive, and opportunity are in place. It even makes sense logically, sort of.”

“But you’re not convinced,” she concluded.

“I’ve still got inquiries going,” I admitted. “That’s what I told Bill this afternoon. Despite the supposed straight line between Jean being murdered and his son killing him, there’re a lot of messy, unexplained details and a couple of awfully convenient coincidences.”

“Was Bill sympathetic?”

“More or less. He wanted assurances that (a) nothing I had going would unnecessarily upset the apple cart, and that (b) Willy wasn’t involved in any of it.”

Gail laughed. “I can’t blame him there. What did you tell him?”

“I lied on both counts. Willy’s one of the best diggers I know, and how the hell do I know if we’ll upset any apple carts? We might. We might not.”

She gave me a rueful smile. “Hardly the best start to a new career.”

“You should know.”

It was an unnecessarily pointed comment, which she absorbed thoughtfully, concentrating on the contents of her own mug. Just a few months earlier, she’d been a newly hired deputy state’s attorney. Unfortunately, she’d quickly found it an awkward fit, given her penchant for championing the disadvantaged, and had locked horns with her boss during her first major case, winning in court and being all but fired in the process. Her advice on new careers, therefore, carried some cautionary baggage.

But I wasn’t guiltless, either. I hadn’t left a lifelong job as a municipal cop just because VBI suddenly came knocking.

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