And they lost them; and then they were back. "WEST WEST WEST.
JESUS GO BACK. NO, GO BACK. JESUS GET EMS DOWN HERE. GET EMS"
Lucas was runningaround the house, into his car.
Every step of the way, he could hear people screaming on the radio. In one minute he was on Mendota Road, in two minutes on Robert Street, then on 110, and lie was moving as fast as he could without killing anyone, flashing past cars, weaving through traffic, praying that he wouldn't run into a highway patrolman, running, and all the time the traffic on the radio became more shrilclass="underline" "goddamnit, we're
Lucas made I-35 and headed north, and called, "I'm coming up. If you've got a runner, tell me which way."
Then a cop, coming back: "We don't know. We don't know.",.;.
"I thought you said you were losing him."
"Spooner, Spooner, we're losing Spooner."
"Where's the shooter, where's the shooter?"
"I don't know, man, I don't know, we never saw him. Dave, where are you? Dave, did you get west?" Then Dave: "I got west, man, but I don't see anything, nothing moving. Lucas, if you're coming in, get up on the Seventh Street ramp and put on your flashers and see if anybody shies away."
Lucas thought: He's gone. If they were down to blocking ramps, the shooter was gone.
And he was.
Spooner died on his front lawn with his wife screaming over him, and two cops trying to stop the blood with their hands. He took a. 44 Magnum slug four inches to the left of his sternum; he took a couple of minutes to die, but he didn't know it. Except for technical purposes, he was dead when the slug hit.
Chapter 27
Lester drove over from Minneapolis in time to see the body hauled away. He and Lucas stood on the Spooners' lawn and watched the Ramsey County ME working, and Lester said, "We may be fucked. Personally, I mean. We gotta go talk to Rose Marie so she won't be blindsided by the press."
"I know," Lucas said. "Before we do that, we ought to wring out Olson. And we have to fill in St. Paul on what we were doing, and get them to grab Spooners paper and his computers and close off his safe-deposit boxesget some people in early tomorrow and notify every bank inside a couple hours' driving time about the boxes, and maybe get a warrant for the house and grab any keys he's got."
"Jesus, Lucas, it's gonna look like we got him killed, and then we're persecuting his wife," Lester said.
"Persecuting his wife won't make a hell of a lot of difference if they hang us for killing her husband," Lucas said. "But if Spooners dirty, then we might kick loose of the whole thing. We've got to go after him hard."
"Aw, man" Lester was shaken up. He kept coming back to the body, still on the ground, now under a tarp.
"Listen, this ain't you," Lucas said. "This is me. I'm the one who tipped Olson. There are only two possibilities: Olson tipped the killerhe's managing the killeror somebody else put the killer on Spooner. I don't think anybody else leaked Spooner's nameits gotta be Olson."
"So what do we do?"
"I'll go talk to Rose Marie. You stay out of it. I won't mention your name. I'll just tell her that I asked you to put a couple people on Spooner. And that's really what happened."
"Except that I went along with it," Lester said.
"Bullshit. I didn't ask you before I did it. Afterwards, what were you gonna do? Tell Olson to forget the name? And you were just helping protect Rose Marie."
"Aw, man"
"Just sit tight," Lucas said. He got on the phone and called Del, filled him in. "I'm gonna go shake Olson, if you want to come along."
"I'll meet you," Del said. "Do you know where he is?"
"I'll have the guys at the church call us when he heads back to his motel. We want to get him alone."
A St. Paul cop across the street, in the backyard of the house opposite Spooner's, was yelling something, and two St. Paul plainclothesmen trotted toward him. "Something going on," Lester said.
Lucas hung up his phone and got on the radio, called the cops watching Olson. "Tell me when he's heading back to the motel. The minute he heads that way."
"You got it, Chief."
Back on the phone, calling the cops who were watching Jaeclass="underline" "Somebody may be coming. Keep her away from the windows, keep her away from the doors. If anythingmoves, shoot it."
He and Lester walked across the street. One of the St. Paul plain-clothesmen said, "We got a shell."
"What kind?"
One of the patrol cops who'd found it said, "Forty-four Mag."
"He's shooting a rifle," Lucas said. "One of those Ruger carbines, I bet. The shell ejected, and this one he couldn't find."
"What does that tell us?" Lester asked.
"Damned if I know," Lucas said.
Lucas called Rose Marie. "I've got a problem. I've got to come see you."
"What happened?"
"I'll come see you," Lucas said.
Rose Marie lived in a comfortable neighborhood on the south side of Minneapolis, a fifteen-minute drive from Spooner's. Lucas didn't think about what he was going to say, except that whatever it was, he had to cover Lester and the other cops. Rose Maries husband was just walking out the door with the family cocker spaniel when Lucas arrived. "As long as it's not another killing," he said genially.
"I hate to wreck your mood," Lucas told him grimly.
"Oh, boy. Here in town?"
"Over in St. Paul."
"That's a little break."
Rose Marie was reading. She dropped the book on the floor when Lucas pushed through the front door and called, "Hello?"
"Lucas what's going on?"
"William Spooner was shot to death. A half hour ago, over in St. Paul."
"My God." She was appalled.
"It's worse than that," he said. He told her the story, made it as flat as he could. She listened without much change of expression, and when he finished, said, "Let me think for a minute." She took the full minute, then said, "We're gonna have to talk to the mayor, I can put it off until early afternoon."
"Then what?"
"I don't know. You've saved several peoples butts over the years, but this could be tough. Especially if we can't make Spooner as the guy who killed Rodriguez and the others."
"You don't sound nearly as pissed off as I thought you'd be," Lucas said.
"Well" She shrugged. "I'm not. I know what you were doing. The fact is, Spooners name would have leaked sooner or later, just like Rodriguez's, and just like the muff-diving thing. This way, we controlled it."
"I controlled it," Lucas said. "I think, for damage-control purposes, we ought to keep the emphasis on me. I'd especially hate to see anyone else get hurt."
She shook her head. "I think it's just you and meif they hang you, they'll get me for not controlling the department."
"Which is bullshit."
"Its politics," she said. "Anyway, I can put it off until after lunch. You say you want to shake Olson. Go do it. I'll get the St. Paul chief moving, and serve some warrants on Mrs. Spooner, God help her. If we can get something going by noon, or one o'clock, the mayor'll think twice before he throws us to the dogs."
"If we actually get somebody, if we start a hunt, with an actual name"
"Then we've solved the crimes. Especially if we can make the case against Spooner. Then we've solved the crimes, and the whole thing becomes moot."
Lucas looked at his watch. "Fifteen hours."
He left Rose Marie's house in a better mood than when he arrived, hut the leaking of Spooler's name seemed, in retrospect, unforgivably stupid. On the other hand, if it had worked, it would have seemed brilliant: like Napoleon at Waterloobeaten by a hairsbreadth, but beaten.
The cops at the church called. Olson was moving west on 494, headed back toward his motel. Lucas scrambled to get to Dels, picked him up, and filled him in on the Spooner ploy. "So you're now one of four people who know what happened," he said.