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“He do this often?” Jesse said.
“Yeah. Walton liked women. He married three of them. He probably cheated on them all.”
“What was he doing up here?”
Lutz shook his head.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Carey did all that stuff. I just protected him.”
“You didn’t know ahead of time?” Jesse said. “How’d you know if there would be security issues?”
“I wasn’t the Secret Service,” Lutz said. “Hell, Walton wasn’t the president, either. If he was going someplace to give a speech or whatever, Carey would notify the local cops and they’d do what they thought they should do. I was just along to see that no one assaulted him on the sidewalk or whatever.”
“Which you look like you can do,” Jesse said.
“Which I can,” Lutz said. “But tell you the truth, I think part of it was that Walton just liked having a bodyguard around. Good for his image.”
“Ever any trouble.”
“A few drunks,” Lutz said. “A few protesters.”
“Sometimes one and the same,” Jesse said.
Lutz grinned.
“You got that right,” he said.
“Any big trouble?”
“No.”
“You and he get along?” Jesse said.
“Sure. Once we both got it that I was a bodyguard, not 5 8
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somebody who runs errands, or makes coffee, or gets you a dinner reservation.”
Jesse nodded.
“You have any idea why they ended up dead in my town?”
Jesse said.
“No,” Lutz said.
“Hate mail, death threats, warnings, anything like that?”
Lutz shook his head. “None that he shared with me.”
“Who would he share them with?”
“Carey, maybe. She probably handled his personal mail. His manager would have handled the, you know, publicfigure mail.”
“You guard him twenty-four-seven?” Jesse said.
“No. In New York, he lives in a secure building. I’d drive him when he went out, but when he was home I was off duty, so to speak.”
“When he traveled?” Jesse said.
“When he traveled I went with him. Stayed next door. But when he was in for the night, I was off.”
“Know anything useful?” Jesse said.
“Guy’s a bodyguard and his clients die,” Lutz said, “it doesn’t make him look good. Besides which, I worked for the guy eight years. So before I came up to see you, I checked a little. Nobody at the front door remembers getting them a cab. Nobody at the concierge desk remembers arranging anything. No car rental, no limo, no dinner reservation, no theater tickets, nothing.”
“And people would remember,” Jesse said.
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“Walton was pretty well-known,” Lutz said.
“Anyone remember them coming out of the hotel?”
“One doorman said he thought they headed up Franklin Street.” Lutz smiled. “It wasn’t Walton so much. Doorman says he was watching Carey’s ass.”
“Any people I should talk to about Weeks?” Jesse said.
“Sure,” Lutz said. “I don’t know everyone, but I can give you a few names to start with.”
“You think of any Paradise connection?” Jesse said. “For either of them?”
“Only reason I ever heard of the place,” Lutz said, “was that serial killing thing you had up here a while back.”
“Either Carey or Walton ever mention the town?”
“Nope.”
“You have any theory,” Jesse said, “about why they died, or why they ended up here?”
“None,” Lutz said.
“That makes two of us,” Jesse said.
6 0
16
Could you join me with the governor’s guy?” Jesse said to Molly as he walked to his office.
“Always best to have a witness,” Molly said.
The man in Jesse’s office didn’t stand when they came in. He was maybe fifty. He wore black wingtipped shoes, a dark suit, a red tie, and a white shirt with a collar pin. His sandy hair was newly cut and parted on the left.
“Richard Kennfield,” he said. “From Governor Forbes. Didn’t she tell you I was waiting?”
“Officer Crane?” Jesse said. “Yes, she told me.”
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
Jesse sat behind his desk and, pushing the chair back, put one foot on an open bottom drawer.
“And you chose to keep me sitting here for several hours?”
“Yes,” Jesse said.
“Do you have an explanation?”
Jesse nodded. Molly remained standing by the door.
“I do,” he said.
Kennfield waited. Jesse was silent.
“What is it?” Kennfield said after a while.
“I had police work to do,” Jesse said.
“And you don’t think police work includes talking to the representative of the chief executive of the state?”
“Nope.”
“Are you being deliberately obtuse?” Kennfield said.
“I’m not sure it’s deliberate,” Jesse said. “What can I do for you?”
Kennfield paused for a moment and weighed his options. Then he shook his head slightly, puffed his cheeks a little, and blew some air out.
“Walton Weeks was a longtime supporter of Governor Forbes,” Kennfield said.
Jesse nodded.
“The governor is very concerned about his murder.”
Jesse nodded.
“We would like a full report on the death of Walton Weeks,” Kennfield said. “And the progress of the investigation.”
“Me too,” Jesse said.
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“Meaning?”
“Meaning I don’t know any more than you do.”
“We want progress reports,” Kennfield said. “We want to know every step you’re taking.”
“I’ve got everybody in the department looking for the killer or killers. We haven’t found him . . . or her . . . or them.”
“And we want the state police involved,” Kennfield said. Jesse realized that Kennfield was checking off a mental list.
“I’ve been in touch with the homicide commander,” Jesse said.
“We want the full resources of the state brought to bear on this investigation,” Kennfield said. “We want you working hand in glove with Captain Healy.”
“Sure,” Jesse said.
“Now”—Kennfield checked off another mental point—
“what is your theory of the case?”
“Same people that killed Weeks,” Jesse said, “killed Carey Longley.”
“Carey . . . ?”
“His assistant.”
“Oh, yes,” Kennfield said. “Because of the same murder weapon.”
“Because of that,” Jesse said.
“And what haven’t you told the press?” Kennfield said.
“That Carey was ten weeks pregnant with Walton’s kid.”
“Pregnant?”
“Yep.”
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“Is that a holdback?” Kennfield said.
“No,” Jesse said. “We hold back things that only the killer could know, so if someone knows it, it’s a clue. The killer or killers could have known, or not known, and if they knew could have known or not known that it was Walton Weeks’s child. No point in holding it back. Somebody knows it, it proves nothing.”
“Then why didn’t you tell the press?” Kennfield said.
“Saw no good reason to. There’s Weeks’s widow and Carey’s next of kin to think about.”
“Yes, it’s best kept quiet,” Kennfield said. “Lorrie Weeks is a very close friend of the governor, and she has always been as supportive as Walton was.”
“I can’t promise you,” Jesse said. “It may become pertinent, and if so, I’ll blab.”
“That would not endear you to us.”
Jesse nodded.
“We want your cooperation in this,” Kennfield said. Jesse nodded.