On Harrow Hill

“It was just a rumor at first, but when his father shot him, that seemed to seal the deal.”

“His father shot him?”

“Five times. EMTs thought at first he was dead. But he recovered. His father’s doing a minimum twenty in Attica for attempted murder.”

“When did this happen?”

“Ten, twelve years ago. Billy was a junior at Larchfield Academy.”

“The relationship between Billy and Darlene—did that situation continue after high school?”

“I don’t know. For a while, people got tired of talking about it. But it came back to life when Billy got involved with Selena Cursen. When that started up, somebody fired a few shotgun blasts into Selena’s house. We got an anonymous call that it was Darlene, but there was no way to make the case.” Slovak looked at Morgan for confirmation.

Morgan shrugged. “No witnesses. No evidence. But plenty of bad feelings all around.”

“Your idyllic part of the world sounds remarkably messy,” said Gurney.

Slovak nodded. “The thing is, the guys on the village board made sure the media reported that the Tates lived in Bastenburg, not Larchfield. I bet they’d love to say Angus got killed in Bastenburg, if they could.”

Morgan’s fingers were tapping restlessly on the table. “Okay. Time for next steps. Dave, any thoughts on priorities?”

“Only the obvious ones. The body theft probably required more than one person. A vehicle must have been used to transport it. Someone may have seen it being loaded in back of the funeral home, or unloaded at its destination—possibly the Cursen property? Assuming this happened after dark, the body theft would have occurred after eight the evening following the accident, and it, or parts of it, would have been brought to the Russell house in the time window the ME estimated for Angus’s death—3:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. It would make sense to focus your door-to-door inquiries on what people may have seen roughly between nightfall and dawn.”

Morgan nodded his agreement. “Brad, I want you to get on that ASAP.”

Slovak grimaced. “I have all the guys doing door-to-doors around Harrow Hill. I don’t have anyone left to do the same thing around the funeral home or out by Selena’s place.”

“Split your people up. Or borrow officers from Bastenburg. Your choice.”

Morgan turned to Barstow. “Kyra, you stay on top of the crime-scene processing at Peale’s and the overnight lab work. Call me as soon as you get results. Is there anything I’m missing?”

She smiled. “You heard Peale’s description of his stolen bone mallet?”

He nodded. “It sounded like your description of the sort of hammer used to break into the conservatory.”

“And to kill the dog.”

“Right. The hammer does seem to link the body thief directly to the Russell break-in. Brad, when the scalpel comes back from the lab, show it to Peale. See if he can confirm it’s one of the five taken from the embalming room. Dave, any other ideas?”

“Peale said he left Tate’s phone in the casket. The body thief may have taken it. If it’s turned on and the battery is still alive, it can be pinged and located. You should also get a warrant for Tate’s recent call records and text messages.”

Morgan asked Slovak to follow up immediately on both suggestions. Then he took the sort of deep breath that precedes a difficult topic.

“There’s one final issue. The media situation. So far, it’s been manageable. Tate’s death was covered as a freak accident, with no mention of the lurid stories surrounding his background or his hostility toward Russell. Angus’s murder received broader attention in the upstate media markets—Albany, Syracuse, Rochester—and we’re getting some pressure from reporters for updates. But that’s nothing compared to the tornado that’s going to hit us when word gets out that there may be a connection between the two deaths. What I’m saying is, be ready for a god-awful storm. Give out no information. Refer all questions to me.”

13

After Slovak and Barstow left to pursue their assignments, Morgan leaned back in his chair and let a slow exhalation puff out his cheeks. His gaze moved slowly around the conference room, stopping at the big recessed screen. He picked up his phone and tapped a series of icons, and a wood panel slid across the opening. He ran a finger lightly along the polished tabletop.

“An example of Angus’s largesse. The man was hell-bent on everything in Larchfield being first class.”

After a silence, he spoke again without looking at Gurney. “I remember you once saying that asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness, it was a sign of sanity. You still believe that?”

“I do.”

“I’m glad you came here today.”

Gurney said nothing.

“You’ve been a huge help. Huge. The situation here is turning into . . . I don’t know what, but I know it’s the kind of thing you’re better at than I am. And it’s obvious that Brad and Kyra have tremendous respect for you.” His gaze met Gurney’s. “How are you feeling about your involvement?”