“You’re out of your mind,” said Harry.
“All the same, if we tag him on that one, you can expect a lot more paper. Figure a ticker-tape parade,” said Templeton.
Harry was getting grim looks from the deputies standing around the desk.
“Oh, yeah! And we’ll be adding a fugitive arrest warrant later today, just to add a little international spice.”
Harry stood there looking at him.
“Well, do you want to call him and give him the news?” said Templeton. “He’d probably rather hear it from you than read it in the newspaper. Or maybe he doesn’t read Spanish? You do know where he is?” Templeton looked at him and waited to see if Harry was going to fess up. When he didn’t, the Dwarf said, “You might try Costa Rica. At least according to the airline, that’s where his plane landed. You did know he was down there?”
“So what? There were no warrants outstanding when he left,” said Harry.
“You might remind him of that and see if you can coax him back. By the way, you wouldn’t know how he got out of the country, seeing as the state had placed restrictions on his passport, would you?”
Harry looked at him and just swallowed a little saliva.
“Well?”
“No.”
Templeton knew he was lying. He also knew that the federal government had been pushing buttons and pulling levers. The Dwarf had been given the shaft. It didn’t take a mind meld to know what was up. Let the horse out of the barn and follow him.
By morning Templeton would have the FBI in a legal headlock. If they were tailing Madriani, once a fugitive warrant was issued for the lawyer’s arrest and the FBI received notice, they would be compelled by law to arrest him immediately. The state would then have to arrange extradition. If the FBI failed to take Madriani into custody and he slipped through their fingers, the federal government would have to answer for its conduct in a courtroom and explain to a judge the reason for their actions. In a case of multiple murder, Templeton would be all over them, national security or no national security. The Dwarf would climb on a stump and start pumping out headlines ending in question marks-what was the federal government up to, and why did they allow a multiple murderer to leave the country and then run free?
“Larry.” Howser was trying to catch Templeton’s attention from the other side of the desk.
“Well, are you going to call him or not?” Templeton’s gaze was locked on Harry.
“If I do, I’ll let you know,” said Harry.
“Larry!” Howser was standing there looking down at the open drawer on the other side of the desk.
“What?” Templeton was aggravated by the interruption.
“I think you better look at this.”
He walked around to the other side of the desk. “What is it?”
Howser pointed. “Right there.”
At first Templeton didn’t say anything, at least not with his lips. Instead the Dwarf stood there looking as if he had just found the original gold nugget at Sutter’s Mill.
“Okay. Okay. I want everybody outta here,” he said. “Clear the offices. I want everybody outside now. And call the crime lab, tell them to send a van over here right away. I want two CS technicians, and tell them we’re gonna need photos.”
“What are you talking about?” said Harry.
“Maybe you can tell us how you’re gonna explain that?” said Templeton.
“What?” Harry edged his way around the desk.
“That.” Templeton was pointing toward a lot of clutter, pens and paper clips, some loose change, rubber bands, and a roll of Scotch tape in a center section of the top drawer of Paul’s desk. “Right there.”
The second Harry saw it, all the blood seemed to drain from his head. He began to sway. For a moment he thought he might actually fall.
Templeton grabbed his arm as if he could hold him up. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay. I’m fine,” Harry lied.
“I know. I know,” said Templeton.
In that moment Harry and the Dwarf seemed to communicate on a level that transcended language. With the evidence he had and the charges he’d brought, it was clear that even Templeton, deep down, harbored nagging doubts that another lawyer could have done this.
But there in front of them in the drawer was one of the bags of catnip. It looked identical to the bags found by the police and photographed, the catnip used to take down the motion sensors in the side yard, the path used by the killer to enter Emerson Pike’s house.
FORTY-TWO
I had just finished shaving when I stepped from the bathroom and noticed that someone had slipped an envelope under the door to my room at the Sportsmens Lodge. I reached down, grabbed the envelope, and opened it. It was from the front desk, “a message from a Mr. Hinds. You are to call him in San Diego.” I knew that Harry wouldn’t call the hotel unless it was important. He must have called the cell phone and realized it was turned off.
A few minutes later Herman and I descend into the basement of the Sportsmens Lodge, near the exercise area. The place is deserted except for some of the hotel staff taking care of laundry. Herman watches the stairs while I make the call.
Harry answers the phone on the first ring and doesn’t even say hello. “I hope you’re sitting down. Let me get outside.”
I give him a few seconds to get out of the office so that federal bugs can’t pick up the conversation.
“What’s wrong?”
“Templeton dropped the world on us early this morning,” says Harry. “He raided the office, seized all the files in Katia’s case. There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”
Even though Harry and I have talked about this, the possibility that Templeton might charge me, the actual news that he has now done it knocks the breath out of me.
“Where are you now?” says Harry.
When I don’t answer he says, “Are you there?”
“I’m here.” I am swallowing hard.
“Are you still in the hotel?”
“Ye…Ah, yeah. Down, we’re, Herman and I, are down in the basement.”
“Get your stuff together and get outta there,” says Harry. “Do it now.”
“First tell me what’s happened.”
“Trust me. You don’t have time to talk,” says Harry. “Gather your bags, check out, and don’t leave by the front door. Is there another way out?”
“Yeah. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Templeton knows you’re in Costa Rica. He’s working on a fugitive warrant. The minute he gets it, he’ll bring fire down on the FBI to pick you up. You can bet on it. You were right; he had a hold on your passport, so he’s hopping mad. He knows the feds had it lifted. He’s already leaking information to the press to turn the heat on Rhytag. I got a phone call from a friend. It’s already been on Fox News. San Diego lawyer charged with murder, and the report is that you’re hiding out in Costa Rica with federal authorities close on your heels. You’ve got to move.”
“He still has a pretty thin case,” I tell him.
“Not after he found the bag of catnip in your desk drawer.”
“Oh, shit.”
“You might want to think about where it came from,” says Harry, “and we can talk about it later.”
“I forgot all about it. I found it the day we were out at Pike’s house.”
“I’m not the one you have to convince,” says Harry.
“It was cumulative evidence. The cops already had their own collection of the little white bags, all of them the same. I couldn’t see how one, more or less, was going to change anything,” I tell him.
“Yeah, well, the Dwarf must have feline DNA in his blood then, because he looked like he wanted to roll in your drawer and have an orgasm when they found the bag there,” says Harry. “And one other thing; it seems the cops have been holding back another piece of evidence.”