On Harrow Hill

He told her about the past disappearances of people in conflict with Angus, Angus’s financial relationship with Silas Gant, Lorinda’s blood relationship with Otis Strane, and—according to Hilda—the existence of a long-standing shady relationship between the Russell and Peale families. He then described the suggestive circumstances of Hanley Bullock’s death, and how that death seemed to involve those relationships. Surely the neat man with the silver-gray pompadour was Gant and the man with “OTIS” tattooed on his knuckles was Otis Strane.

“I can’t prove it,” Gurney continued, “but I’d be willing to bet my pension that the hearse driver in Crickton that day, the man who drove off with Bullock’s body, was Danforth Peale’s father, who Hilda Russell described as the coldest man she’d ever met—a man whose ownership of hearses and cemeteries would put him in an ideal position for getting rid of bodies.”

Stryker opened her palms in a gesture of impatience. “That was ten years ago. What’s it got to do with—”

He cut her off again. “I got to thinking about the people Lorinda might be relying on. The first one who came to mind was Gant. But the night Aspern was killed, Gant was speaking at that gun rally in West Virginia. So it had to be someone else. And that’s when Peale came to mind, along with a simple thought: like father, like son.”

Stryker screwed up her face in disbelief. “Like father, like son? That’s it? That was your basis for zeroing in on Peale?”

Detective Lieutenant Hapsburg uttered a small snort of derision.

Hardwick eyed him as though he might be measuring him for a body bag.

“It wasn’t just that,” said Gurney mildly. “There was also that oddity in the audio portion of the mortuary video that I’ve already mentioned to you. The idea that something in that video might have been tampered with struck me as a red flag. And it turns out part of the audio may have been faked. In fact, I’m now sure that Peale’s security camera was recording a prerecorded sound of the casket being broken open, rather than the actual event.”

Stryker folded her arms. “Anything else?”

“Yes. One of the lab experts discovered a small hole that had been drilled in the bottom of the casket—which made no sense to me, until I remembered seeing Peale with an automobile jack. When I checked the specs on that model, they were consistent with my suspicion that Peale had been Lorinda’s accomplice from the beginning. They also explained how the first big trick in the case was pulled off.”

Stryker unfolded her arms, then folded them again. “You’re saying Peale was involved from the beginning, but you said a minute ago that he’s not the one who killed Tate. If he didn’t, who did?”

“That was the simplest piece of the puzzle,” said Gurney. “It was right in front of our faces all the time. In fact, we’d been told what the answer was. If only we’d been willing to believe it. If only—”

The detective lieutenant interrupted him. “We don’t need the big lead-in. How about you just answer the question.”

Gurney smiled. “Billy Tate was killed by a combination of a direct lightning strike and a devastating fall. Dr. Ronald Fallow declared him dead, correctly so. Fallow, the one person everyone came to believe was wrong, was the only one who was right. Tate was dead. But the circumstances surrounding his death very quickly captivated Danforth Peale. In fact, those circumstances were the irresistible gift placed in his hands—the golden opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Opportunity to do what?”

“What Lorinda Russell had made clear she wanted him to do: get rid of her husband. And now he had the perfect way to do it. The body that had been rolled into his mortuary that night belonged to a young man who had publicly threatened Angus Russell, who was known to be interested in witchcraft and Satanism—a loose cannon if there ever was one. And best of all, no one wanted the body. His stepmother wanted absolutely nothing of his; wouldn’t even touch his phone or car keys; wanted no memorial service, no visiting hours, nothing. All she asked was for Peale to store the body until she could decide how to dispose of it.”

“But the video . . .” began Stryker.