“Colorfully put.”
“But today I don’t care about any of that. Today I want to know why you did it. Why now. Hypothetically.”
Mackenzie took a swig. “Sounds like you have a theory, Special Agent Bernstein.”
“I do. Would you like to hear it?”
“Sure.”
“David Burroughs gets no visitors for years. Suddenly his sister-in-law shows up. I’ve checked. There were no letters exchanged before her visit, no phone calls, nothing. I’ve also seen the video of her first visit. He didn’t know she was coming. With me so far?”
“Sure.”
“She showed him a photo. I can’t make out what it is. That’s the thing. But when Burroughs sees it, everything changes. You can feel it right through the CCTV. When the visit is over, he contacts you — again, from what I can see, for the first time. Do you want to help me here and tell me what he wanted?”
“I already said—”
“Okay, you’re not going to help, fine. Let me go on then. You respond to his visit by going to see your old police partner, who happens to be Burroughs’s father. As soon as you come back, you help break Burroughs out. I’m not sure how the fight with Ross Sumner fits in. I’m also not sure about the correctional officer Ted Weston. He’s one of your men. You know him better than I do. Anyway, Weston lawyered up after we found out someone was bribing him. Did you know about that?”
“No.”
“Surprised?”
“That he took a bribe?”
“Yes.”
Mackenzie took another sip, shrugged.
“Okay, don’t answer. But here’s why it’s important. I don’t think Burroughs attacked Weston. I think it was the other way around. Weston went after him. So that’s weird to me. And one last thing: When Burroughs does escape, the first person he goes to is a key witness from his trial. An old woman who changed her name and moved away right after the trial ended. And that old woman? I talked to her. She’s lying about what Burroughs said to her during his visit. I think for some reason she’s protecting him.”
Max spread his hands. “So I add this all up, Phil, and you know what I come up with?”
“What’s that?”
“Burroughs’s sister-in-law, who used to be a very good investigative journalist, found something that could free him. She brings it to him. Shows it to him through that plexiglass. Burroughs goes to you. Tells you what Rachel Anderson has. You agree to help. Thing is, you’re too good to have rushed an escape like that, leaving so many things to chance. So my guess is, the Sumner or Weston attack — or both — forced your hand.”
“This is some story, Special Agent Bernstein.”
“Call me Max. I don’t have it exactly. I’m missing parts. But we both know I’m close. Here’s the thing. We have to bring David in. You get that. And I don’t know why this evidence couldn’t just be given to his attorney or something. I assume there is a good reason for that.”
Mackenzie still gave him nothing.
“And Sarah? She is strictly by the book. If Burroughs was set up, if he didn’t do it, I’m not like that guy in The Fugitive — remember that movie?”
Mackenzie nodded. “I even remember the TV series.”
“Before my time. But there’s the great scene when Harrison Ford tells Tommy Lee Jones — Tommy plays the federal agent trying to capture him — ‘I’m innocent,’ and do you remember what Tommy Lee Jones says?”
He nodded. “He says, ‘I don’t care.’”
“Right. That’s Sarah. She doesn’t care. We have a job to do. Bring Burroughs in. Period, the end. It’s why you and I are meeting alone in this bar. I’m vulnerable now. You could tell them what I said. But unlike Tommy Lee Jones, I do care. If Burroughs didn’t do it, I want to help him.”
The warden picked up his drink and held it up to the light. “Suppose,” he said, “I told you that you’re mostly right.”
Max felt his pulse quicken.
“But suppose,” Mackenzie continued, “I also told you that the real story is stranger than what you’ve concocted.”
“Stranger how?”
“Suppose I told you that the real reason David escaped was because a child may be in grave danger.”
Max looked confused. “You mean another child?”
“Not exactly.”
“You mind explaining?”
Philip Mackenzie smiled, but there was no joy in it. “Tell you what,” he said, draining his whiskey and sliding out of the booth. “You draw up papers giving my son full immunity, we can finish this chat.”
“What about immunity for you?”
“I don’t deserve immunity,” Mackenzie said. “At least, not yet.”
The same two goons escort me back to the plane. No handcuffs, no blindfold, no rough stuff. When we arrive at the tarmac, I speak for the first time.
“I need my phone back.”
The “Shut the Fuck Up” Guy reaches into his pocket and tosses it to me. “Charged it for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Heard you beat up a cop.”
“No.”
“In New York City. Said so on the news. He’s in the hospital.”
“I was just trying to escape.”
“Still, my man. Props to you.”
“Yeah,” the other goon says, speaking for the first time. “Props.”
“Thank you” doesn’t seem the appropriate response, so I say nothing. We board the same plane and take the same seats. I check the incoming texts, all from Rachel, of course, getting progressively more panicky.
I text back: I’m fine. Sorry. Waylaid.
The dots start dancing. Learn anything important?
To Rachel’s credit, she hadn’t wasted time asking for a full recap or even where I’d been. Still focused.
I text: Hilde Winslow won’t lead us to Matthew.
Dead end?
More or less, yeah.
I wait for the plane to take off and get high enough for the Wi-Fi to kick in. I look behind me. My escorts are both wearing headphones and watching their phones. I call Rachel.
“What’s all that noise?” Rachel asks. “I can barely hear you.”
“I’m on a plane.”
“Wait, what?”
There is no way to continue without giving her some details, so I give her the nonthreatening sketch recap of what happened since I left her in Revere.
“How about you?” I ask when I’m done. “Anything new on your end?”
Silence — and for a moment I think that the call has dropped.
“I may have a lead,” she says. “You remember my old friend Hayden Payne?”
It takes me a few moments to place the name. “The rich guy who had the big crush on you?” And then I see it: “Oh wait. His family is involved in those corporations, right?”
“Owns them. All part of the Payne group.”
I think about that. “Another can’t-be-a-coincidence.”
“What do you mean?”
But I don’t want to derail her. “What about Hayden?”
“They had a corporate event at Six Flags. That’s where that photo was taken. I asked him to get me all the photos taken that day.”
“Can we also get a list of attendees?”
“I guess I can ask, but he said it would be in the thousands.”
“It’s a place to start.”
“It might be, yeah. Also the company didn’t rent out the whole park. Matthew could have been with someone else.”
“Still worth a try.”