“This is nonsense. We’ve been all over this with your colleagues.” I stood up, walked to the window and sat on the sill, changing tack somewhat. “Look, Mr. Wingate, I’m trying to find out how the Natural Order ticks, not just what happened two nights ago. Sarris says he won’t talk for his members, and they won’t talk at all, probably because he’s got them under his thumb. So that leaves you two. I’ve got to understand how their system works, at least that part of it you’ve witnessed.” This wasn’t strictly true. I was enlisting their alliance less for what they knew than for how they expressed their knowledge, or their prejudice.
“Paul Gorman calls it love-bombing-” “I’ll talk to Gorman later.
What I need to know now is what you not what you learned from him.”
Wingate slapped his knees in exasperation. “What’s the point of is? Who cares how it happened? It happened, that’s all they stole only child, they turned her into a freak. I want my daughter back. at so unreasonable?” Maybe not, I thought, but the means might have been. I rememd Fox’s blackened skull gritting its teeth at me, and the pale-faced ren, huddled together on the bed. “Did Julie have many friends as a kid?” “Of course,” he answered just as she shook her head.
In the embarrassed silence that followed, I asked, “Since you both did you have someone stay with her after school?” “No. I began working after Wingate stood up, not angrily, but determined. “I’ve had enough is. Unless we’re under arrest, we don’t have to submit ourselves ese questions. I’d like you to leave.” “Tell me about Gorman. How did you find him?” He tugged at her arm, in an attempt to make her stand.
“Enough. go after the people responsible for Julie’s abduction. We’re not the y party here. And if you’re tiptoeing around them because you’re d you’ll get sued, let me warn you-I’ll end up doing the suing and Il never know what hit you.” He looked down at his wife. “Godn it, Ellie, stand up,” he said, dragging her to her feet. It occurred to me that both Wingate’s sudden bluster and his handling his wife were reactions to his inability to control me; she become my surrogate.
Despite her obvious discomfort, I was quite fied with the way things were going.
I stayed put, my voice calm and my posture relaxed. “Mr. Winif we were to do our job the way you’d like, you’d be the one in ight now, not Sarris or any member of his organization. You seem rget that we are not investigating your daughter’s dropping out of ge, but the deaths of five people in a fire in which you are a primary ect.” “Oh, come on.” His mouth fell open in indignation, but his eyes back and forth again nervously. “You started the fight with Fox.” “He threw me out the fucking window.” “Bruce.” Ellie Wingate stared at her husband. “And you screwed up the lie detector test.” For a moment, he seemed disoriented by his own excessive lane. “You, you people-” “And you own a 9-mm, semi-automatic pistol.” Wingate’s expression froze. I couldn’t suppress a smile. I’d hit a home run to center field. I felt that if I’d leaned forward and sneezed just then, I could have dropped them like bowling pins-pure Hollywood.
“What?” he finally said in a strangled voice. “You’re a law-abiding man. I’m sure Massachusetts has a tile on it somewhere.”
Neither one of them moved. “Where is that gun right now?” “I… I don’t know. I lost it.” He was staring at the floor, as if mesmerized by one of the mysterious stains there.
“When?” “I don’t remember.” “How do you know you lost it?” “I looked for it. I couldn’t find it.” “At home?” “Of course at home.”
“Why were you looking for it?” He hesitated. “I was going to practice with it.” “When?” “A few months ago.. a year ago.” He scratched his head nervously.
“No… wait, several years ago.” I found the confusion interesting.
“When did you buy the gun?” “What’s the point of this?” he said, making a halthearted attempt to assert himself.
“The file will indicate when you bought it, Bruce.” “It… it’s been years. I don’t remember the dates. It’s got nothing to do with all this.” I noticed his forehead was shiny with sweat.
I let that sentence hang in the air for a while. “So, tell me about Gorman.” Ellie Wingate was looking bewildered, staring at her husband. I half-expected him to invite me out again, but he just set his jaw.
“What about him?” “How did you meet?” “An ad in the paper.” “And you called him up?” “No. He flew in the window.” He tried for a sarcastic smile with minimal results.
“Then what?” “We offered him lemonade.” “Steady, Bruce.” He glared at me, suddenly hot again. It reminded me of fishing a e tension, a little slack in the line-the fish alternately fighting and ding.
“Do you meet one on one?” “We meet in a group. I told the State Police all this.” “We repeat ourselves. It helps cover our tracks, keeps us from sing things, like the gun. How many were in your group?”
“I don’t know; maybe ten.” “All couples?” “No; some.” “What was Gorman’s role?” “He was the discussion leader.” “All the time, or did he have associates who ran the meeting, too?” “No. It was always him. “What did he charge?” There was a hesitation. “Two-fifty.” “Two hundred and fifty bucks a session? How long were the ions?” Wingate’s tone became a little defensive-the banker being called for spending too much. “Two hours, sometimes more. He didn’t it by the clock, and we could call him any time, day or night. And elped in other ways… He’s no con artist; we got our money’s th.” “What other ways did he help you?” “He put us in touch with the private detective who found Julie.” “What was the detective’s name?” “John Stanley.” “Out of Boston?” Wingate nodded, his resistance reduced to a sullen expression.
“Did he find Julie?” “He found out which group she’d joined, and traced her here.” “You definitely saw her?” He glared at me a moment before finally nodding. “When?” “We already told you.” “What about the second time?” He froze at the implication. “I only saw her that once.” Well, it had been worth a try. “What else does Gorman offer?” “He gives us support, emotional support…” His voice trailed off.
“Have you been in touch with him lately?” “Why?” That struck me as an odd response. “To bring him up to date.
Seems like you’d want to tell him you located Julie, ask him what to do next.” “No.” “When was the last time you spoke with him?” “By phone or in person?” Another strange answer. I could sense the interview winding down, but I still wanted to reel in everything I could-the trash fish along with the catch. “Your last contact with him.” “I called him when we spotted Julie, the night of the fight.” “And not since?” “No.” “Not after the fire?” He hesitated. “There was no point. Julie wasn’t in the house.” I was puzzled that he was so sure of that fact, even before his visit to the fire scene. “The State Police will be checking the Inn’s phone logs.” He smiled-bad sign. “Be my guest.” Ah, I thought, pay phone. “We’ll also be talking with Gorman.” “That seems to be what you do best.” I’d finally lost the edge here. I stood up. “We do what we have to do, Mr. Wingate. And we usually end up with the right people in jail.” I crossed the room, opened the door, and left on that note. Not a bad night’s work, I thought.
When I returned from the Rocky River, I found Buster in the kitchen, in his bathrobe, cleaning up the dishes before heading off the bed. For half an hour, I sat with him, nursing a coffee I knew would keep me up half the night, trying to get a feel for what was left of the town that had done so much for me as a kid. I was in better spirits than I had been earlier. My interrogation of the Wingates had made me keen for the task ahead. What I’d gotten from them hadn’t broken the case, or even changed things dramatically, but it had been progress-something valuable to be used later, like bricks for a future house. Now I was sitting in the near dark of the living room, seeing only the dim hall light upstairs, which filtered down the staircase around corner. Buster had left it on for me after he’d gone to bed, some o hours ago. I could hear him snoring in his room above. I’d been very touched when Laura had told me Buster kept a apbook about me. It had been tangible evidence of the affection I’d ays sensed was there.