“Warned him about what, Mrs. Reiser? What happened?”
“Our final hearing was coming up, Jared had a buyer lined up for the business, we could cash out and be gone. But Emil kept stalling, wanted to wait because of Jeanie. Him and Jared had a big blowout about it. After Emil stormed out, I told Jared about Emil being in witness protection, hiding out up here. Jared planned to out him in court, make Emil run for his damn life. That way I’d get everything, not just half.”
“Clever plan,” Zina said, her tone neutral.
“Marty Lehman didn’t think so. He argued with Jared about it. Claimed Jared was an officer of the court, shouldn’t give Emil up. Jared told him to screw himself. I thought we’d won. Then the doc tipped Emil what was up and he took Jared out. Told me if I opened my mouth, he’d do me and Mal the same way.”
“How did Dr. Bannan find out about Emil?” Doyle asked. “Are they involved?”
“Involved?” Rosie echoed, puzzled.
“Are they lovers, Mrs. Reiser? Are they friends?”
“Hell, Emil’s got no friends. We had to live like goddamn hermits out there.” And she began to sob, great gasping yawps of self-pity.
“Mrs. Reiser, do you know where your husband might have gone?” Zina pressed.
“He went with Jeanie when they took her down. He didn’t want her to be alone in that place.”
“What place — whoa, you mean the morgue? Doyle, the morgue’s in the basement. Reiser’s still here!”
But he wasn’t. They found the morgue attendant sitting on the floor, in a daze, his skull bloodied. He said Reiser clipped him with a gun butt. He was gone. And he’d taken his daughter’s body.
Lights and sirens, flying through town pedal to the metal, Doyle driving, Zina hanging on to the dashboard crash bar.
Turning onto the Point Lucien road, he switched off the sirens without slowing. Not that it mattered. Reiser would be expecting them.
“Eavesdropping,” Zina said suddenly.
“What?”
“When we were out here before, the girl was fishing. Emil signed for her to turn her back. He said she could eavesdrop at fifty yards. But she was deaf.”
“He meant she could read lips.”
“That’s right. And where would a kid learn to do that?”
Doyle risked a quick sidelong glance, then refocused on the road. “In school,” he nodded. “Dr. Bannan teaches hearing-impaired kids and she was in the anteroom when her husband and Lehman were arguing about outing Reiser.”
“In an office with glass walls,” Zee finished. “The secretary couldn’t hear them, but the doc could have picked up the gist of their argument. And warned Reiser.”
“And Reiser killed her husband to — Sweet Jesus!” Doyle broke off. “What the hell is all that?”
Ahead of them, the sky was glowing red, dancing shadows flickering through the trees as Doyle whipped the patrol car around, skidding broadside into the Lone Pine parking lot.
The boat works was engulfed in flame, a seething, crackling inferno fueled by the stacks of dried wood. Black smoke and sparks roiling upward into the winter night. Backlit by the blaze, Emil Rieser was calmly watching the fire consume years of his work. And his daughter. His whole life.
As Doyle and Zina stepped out of the car, Reiser turned to face them, his work clothes blackened with soot, his shaggy mane wild. Holding a hunting rifle cradled in his arms.
Doyle carefully drew his own weapon, keeping it at his side.
“Mr. Reiser, we’d appreciate it if you’d put that gun down, and step away from it.”
“Not a chance, Stark. Just give me a few minutes. Jeanie wanted her ashes scattered out here, this is my last chance to do for her. Let the fire go a bit longer, then we’ll get to it.”
“To what?” Zina asked.
“You know who I am, and what I’ve done.”
“You killed Jared Bannan?” Doyle asked.
“I did the world a favor with that one. I only wanted another month or so. Less, as it turned out. He was gonna wreck the little time Jeanie had left just to squeeze a few more dollars out of the deal. If anybody ever had it comin’, that sonofabitch did.”
“Was Bannan’s wife a part of it?”
“Part of what?” Reiser asked, glancing absently at the fire, gauging its progress.
“Did she know you were going to kill her husband?” Doyle pressed.
“She phoned me, warned me he was going to blow my cover. Tell her I said thanks.”
“You can tell her yourself.”
“No,” Reiser said. “It’s too late for that. Fire’s about done. Let’s get to the rest of it.”
“Please don’t do anything crazy, Mr. Reiser,” Zina pleaded quietly. “Do you think your daughter would want this?”
“All Jeanie ever asked for was an early Christmas. She didn’t even get that. Maybe it’s an early Christmas where she is now. Hell, maybe it’s Christmas every damn day. We’ll see.”
Zina and Doyle exchanged a lightning glance, reading the vacancy in Reiser’s eyes. Knowing what it meant.
“Hold on, Mr. Reiser,” Zee said, drawing her automatic. “Please, don’t do this.”
“Funny, that’s what Bannan said. Don’t. Please. Something like that. It didn’t work for him, either.” Reiser jacked a shell into the chamber of his rifle. “It’s on you two now, lady. You can send me over. Or come along for the ride.”
And he raised the rifle.
Doyle fired first, spinning Reiser halfway around, then all three of them were desperately exchanging fire as the boatyard blazed madly in the background, flames and smoke coiling upward, smothering the stars of the winter night. A funeral pyre worthy of a princess.
“Do you think he was really trying to kill us?” Zina asked, fingering the rip in the shoulder of her black nylon POLICE jacket, the only damage from the fatal shootout.
“I don’t think he cared. He sure as hell didn’t leave us any choice.” They were in the car, roaring back through town with lights and sirens. Leaving the smoldering boatyard to the firemen and the crime-scene team. And the coroner.
“What’s your hurry?” Though she already knew.
“Like the man said, it’s time to settle up. Any problem with that?”
“Nope. I told the doc if anyone else died, we’d be along.”
“All right then.”
It was past midnight when they skidded into Lauren Bannan’s driveway. Doyle left the strobes flashing. Wanting the neighbors to know. He hammered on the door. No answer.
“I’m out here,” Lauren called.
They circled the house to the rear deck. Lauren was standing by the rail, in black slacks and a turtleneck, looking out over the lake. Slivers of early ice floating ghostly in the dark waters, as far as the eye could see.
“Reiser’s dead,” Doyle said bluntly. “His daughter too.”
Lauren nodded, absorbing it, showing nothing. “Did Jeanie go easily?”
“I... suppose so,” he said, surprised by the question. “She died in her chair, on the dock.”
“That’s good. It can be far worse, with cancer. What’s the rest of it?”
“Emil Reiser killed your husband, Dr. Bannan. He admitted it. Before we had to kill him.”
“I’m sorry it came to that.”
“It didn’t have to! You could have stopped it! Warned us. The way you warned him. You knew what he’d do.”
“No. I didn’t know that. Not then.”
“But you damn sure knew after the fact! And you still didn’t tell us.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Because of some damned regulation?”
“No. Not because of the law. I would have broken it. But my obligation wasn’t to you, Sergeant, or even to my husband.”
“Triage,” Zina said quietly, getting it. “You told me the first day. It was too late to save your husband. Or Reiser. You were protecting the child.”