Patrick didn’t like the sound of this. Cornell probably was some-one’s brother-in-law, and they wouldn’t give him up no matter how many northerners got shot.
But the police captain went on. “Jack isn’t a bad guy. He’s a little loopy since he got out of the army, but hell, he was a little loopy before that. He’s never hurt anybody, and he sure could if he wanted to, with that arsenal he’s got.”
“He’s got firearms in his possession?”
“It’s his business. It’s all legal. He’s a licensed dealer, and his paperwork is in order. I should know-he and I go over it regularly. Anyway, what you want to know is, he did get a visit from those two boys you’ve got up there, and he’s more’n happy to tell us all about it. He doesn’t want any trouble that would threaten his livelihood, see?”
“When did they get there? When did they leave? Did they say-”
“Hold on, I can do better than that,” the captain said, his voice spilling into the stuffy, sunny map room like a cool spring breeze. “I’ll let him tell you. He’s sitting right here.”
“Thank you, Captain. Thank you.”
“I’ll get back on the phone when he’s done. Here y’go, Jack.”
A pause, and the sound of a receiver being handled. “Hello?”
Patrick introduced himself for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He spoke too fast again, but Jack Cornell didn’t seem to care. “Yeah, the cops here told me that Lucas is in some sort of trouble. He didn’t tell me nothing about it, and I didn’t ask. And what you’re saying doesn’t sound like Lucas anyway. Could be that nut Bobby, but not Lucas.”
Patrick forced himself to slow down. Their first real break in the case, and he had to make it count. “Let’s start from the beginning. When did they show up at your place?”
“Day before yesterday-yeah, Tuesday. Out of the blue.”
“They had just gotten out of prison?” “Yep.” “What were they driving?” “A white Mercedes.” The man laughed. “I just about bust a gut.
A damn Mercedes with pearly paint. That was Bobby’s doing, I think.” “You knew Lucas from the army?” “Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you. Him ’n’ me were in the same unit over in Germany. We worked at the armory. That’s where I learned so much about guns-course, I already knew a lot about guns-so I started this business when I came back. Lucas went and robbed a place, I guess, so he wound up in jail down in Georgia, but I’m telling you, that’s not like him. He’s a real nice guy. Sensitive, even. He was sweet on this girl who worked at a bar in town, and every day he had leave he’d show up on her shift with a couple of roses. That’s the kind of guy Lucas is.”
“Did he tell you where he was heading?” “Cleveland, yeah. I guess Bobby lives there.” “What did they plan to do here?” “Hook up with some of Bobby’s old gang, I guess. They didn’t have any real big plans, I didn’t think. They sure as hell didn’t say nothing about robbing no bank, let me tell you. Bobby was going to look up some old friends, and Lucas said he had to find him a girl. That’s Lucas. He always has a girl.”
“That’s it?” “That’s it.” “Did Bobby mention any friends by name?” “Nope, not that I recall. He might have, but I wasn’t paying much attention.”
“Did he say anything about storing his car in Atlanta while he did his time? Mention who drove it there for him, maybe?”
“No.”
“You didn’t drive it there for him, did you?”
“Sir, I never met this Bobby until the day before yesterday.”
“How were they fixed for cash?”
“No one comes out of prison a rich man. But I guess Lucas had saved a few pennies in some work program at the prison, and Bobby had stashed some in his car before he put it in storage. They didn’t ask me for any, so they must not have been hurting too bad.”
“You say Lucas isn’t a violent type. What about Bobby?”
“I don’t know nothin’ about Bobby, even though I spent most of Tuesday talking to him. Lucas was kind of quiet. I guess after being in jail for a while, he didn’t have much to say. That Bobby, though, he couldn’t stop talking.”
“About what?” Patrick swallowed, needing something wet in his throat. He thought longingly of the cooler down by Cavanaugh and decided that all phones that still had cords should have been thrown out years ago.
“His car. It needs new carpet-he said that about a million times. His friends, how it was going to be just like old times. You know how that goes, you can’t ever go home again because you just ain’t the same person, you know what I mean? But I didn’t say anything. I felt the same way after I got out of the army, so free I could bounce off the walls. Oh, and his family.”
“What did he say about his family?”
“That they’re all dead and he’s the last of his line. Like in that book about the Mohicans, you know? He seemed to think this was important in the grand scheme of things, that there weren’t nobody left but him. I’m not making fun of him, mind, though he did get on my nerves a bit. But family’s important, so I could see why he felt bad about it.”
“What happened to his family?”
“Cops.”
“Cops?”
“That’s what he said, cops killed them. No, actually he said ‘the damn justice system of the United States of America’ killed them, that’s what he said.” Cornell’s voice faded for a moment as he said to someone there with him, “Shut the door, will you? It’s freezing in here.”
“You’re cold?” Patrick couldn’t remember what cold felt like.
“June in the mountains. Anyway, I told Bobby to find a nice girl and have some sons, and then the whole bloodline thing won’t bother him so much. He just laughed.”
“What about Lucas? Did he mention his family?”
“He’s only got a sister. He said he called her and she didn’t answer, but she’s in the service, too, so she might have been transferred. They never seemed to be too tight anyway.”
“Did either one of them mention the Federal Reserve Bank?”
“Nothing about no bank, no.” He seemed firm on that, but then he had seemed firm on everything so far.
“Did they pay you for the guns? Or were they a gift?”
Silence. Then, “Guns?”
“Two M4 carbines?”
More silence before he said, “They stole them.”
“They stole the guns from you?”
“They were part of my private collection, like, not for sale.
When I woke up yesterday morning, Lucas and Bobby were gone, and so were the guns.” “They never asked you for them.” “Nope.” Patrick didn’t believe him. Apparently the Tennessee police captain didn’t either, because Cornell’s voice continued, muted, as if he had turned away from the receiver. “I didn’t tell you, Johnson, because I didn’t want to get the guy in trouble. He’s my friend. We took enemy fire together.”
Patrick heard the Tennessee cop asking: “In Germany?” “Well, sort of.” “But the guy stole from you. What sort of a friend is that?” “I don’t believe he did.” Jack repeated this into the receiver for
Patrick’s benefit. “I think it was that Bobby. He and I got on okay, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t know him. I don’t know what he’d do or not do.”
“Cornell,” Patrick put in. “Hmm?” “Any other guns-missing? Besides the two M4 carbines?” No hesitation this time. “Nope.” “What about the RDX?” Another pause, but when he spoke, he had none of the prior sheepish tones. “Say what, now?” “The plastic explosives. Did Lucas or Bobby get those from you, too?”
“I don’t have no plastic explosives, I don’t know nothing about no plastic explosives, and I don’t want to know about no plastic explosives. That shit’s wicked. Some of it exploded at our base in Germany. Lucas took some shrapnel, and another guy got his hand blown off. They say it’s so safe, but not if the guy with the detonator don’t know what he’s doing.”