The Killing Moon: A Novel

"So let's accentuate the positive. On the plus side, everything else is bingo. We're talking a historic drug bust for this region. We've got well-trod paths in the back of Pail's house leading out to a shed and an old camper. Piles of empty cans of lye and driveway cleaner behind them, along with cases of stripped road flares. And lots of bare patches in the scrub where he must have buried waste. He's contaminated acres of his own property. I'd be amazed if those holes don't glow green at night. Two HAZMAT teams are en route. You know that stink they talk about around meth labs, like the piss of an asparagus-eating cat? It was immediate at the shed. I couldn't get any closer than the door, but both structures were meth kitchens, it's plain. The guy had grocery bags full of product stockpiled, and I mean pounds of it, ready to go. At fifteen grand a whack? He's been a busy little beaver. He was starting up a business, the first serious meth franchise in New England. Doing the product launch here in Black Falls. He started off in the shack, and it looks like he cooked there until the place became basically uninhabitable. Also looks like he had a serious fire, which probably occasioned his move to the camper. Jars of pharmaceutical-grade pseudo, the supplier's seals and government warnings still on them, along with the vet iodine. The animal doctor is in some serious shit, but he's not the face on this. Bucky Pail is, and you can't bring a dead man to trial. Except, of course, in the press. Which has been tipped and might even be up there already. Good visuals, the chemicals laid out behind the shack, HAZMAT astronauts removing waste. Oh—and the brother. He showed up while I was there."

"Eddie," Maddox said.

"Right. Was all fired up, tried to badge his way in. You don't tie him to this? He lived on the damn hill with his brother. He must have known."

Maddox shook his head, rolling the back of it against the wall. "Not that I could find."

"But he knew about his brother and Ibbits, right? He knew that Ibbits was in lockup that weekend he supposedly wasn't, before he disappeared."

"Seems that way, yes."

"Okay. Prosecution-wise, it's a short jump from there. He and the others can come in for conspiracy and intent to distribute. Those are our arrests, for the perp walk. Grand jury ends up not handing down indictments? Well, that'll be months from now. Nobody remembers." Cullen loosened up his shoulders. "All right. Now I'm starting to feel better about this."

Maddox didn't move, didn't agree, didn't say anything.

Cullen said, "You still thought Bucky Pail had something to do with killing Frond, didn't you?"

The door opened on the station noise. Hess stepped inside, followed by Bryson, the trooper Cullen had talked to at the murder scene. Hess wore the mad-dog expression of a lifter in mid-rep. He reminded Cullen of the middle school football coach he would see one field over from his son's soccer practice, a guy muscled all out of proportion to his job.

Bryson closed the door, Hess stopping at the entrance to the cell. Staring. Waiting.

Maddox lifted his head from the wall and shrugged.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" said Hess. "How about some fucking professional courtesy, instead of trying to make me look like a fool? Maybe if you'd clued me in to things here, I'd have taken a sharper look at Pail. That occur to you yet? Maybe your catch wouldn't be quite so dead right now. And you not so shit out of luck."

Cullen watched Maddox sit there.

"No," Hess went on. "You wanted that bust all to yourself. Golden boy comes home, makes good. I like the psychology of you UC guys. The homo hidden-life thing. This is your big coming-out party, isn't it. You're out of the cake now. Big splash."

Hess turned and looked at Bryson, as though checking to make sure he was watching. In doing so, Hess discovered Cullen. "You. You were at my homicide scene. You DA?"

Cullen attempted an introduction, Hess ignoring his outstretched hand.

"You're his leash?"

Cullen said, "I have oversight of the Mitchum County Drug Task Force. Looks like we had two investigations on parallel tracks that intersected last night."

"Last night, bullshit. They intersected with Sinclair. That was the time to tell me." Hess turned back to continue dressing down Maddox. "Before your investigation cross-infected mine."

Cullen said, "We had a CI implicating local law enforcement in corruption, misconduct, abuse of power, and possible narcotics involvement."

"Sinclair? Your confidential informant is a killer. I hope you don't expect me to keep quiet about that fact."

"Hold on now. Don't forget, we're the aggrieved party here, in terms of results. Your suspect killed our collar. Our huge collar. You know anything about methamphetamines, Trooper? Crystal meth?"

"That's the next big scare drug? The one that's going to hollow out our cities, turn children into prostitutes, grandmothers into gang-bangers?"

Cullen said, "This is the one."