Having plodded miles in mud and rain, Ross felt tired and defeated. He made the effort to say, “You really think Logan is holed up there?”
“I don’t know. He could be. Why the disconnected telephone?”
Ross thought. “You think if Logan’s holed up here, he’ll start shooting?”
“What’s he got to lose? If we move in, the first to go will be Weston.”
“You could be wrong, couldn’t you? Mr Weston said he was alone.”
“You’d say that if you knew a gun was pointing at you.”
With his boots in thick mud and feeling the rain dripping on his Stetson hat, Ross felt baffled. Up to now, Rockville had been free of crime. Now he realized that he had a situation that, tired and feeling old, he couldn’t handle.
“We’d better alert the State police,” he said.
“With respect, Sheriff,” Hollis said quietly, “that wouldn’t be the way to play it. Frontal assault, if Logan is there, wouldn’t save Weston’s life. He’d be the first to go.”
Ross thought, then nodded. “So how do you suggest we handle it, Hank?”
“We should let this situation cool. If Logan is there, holding a gun on Weston, and I could be wrong, but if he is, I want him to think we don’t think he is there. That way he could relax, and when a killer like him relaxes, then we can make our move.”
“What move, Hank?”
“When I was in the army, I trained as an anti-sniper. I know how to watch and wait. I want your permission, Sheriff, to do just that — watch and wait. If Logan is there and he feels there’s no pressure on him, he could relax, and that’s the time to nail him. Suppose we go back to the office and talk about it?”
“I don’t like it, Hank,” Ross said, hesitating. “If Logan is there, Mr Weston is in danger. I think we should go back and search the lodge.”
“If we do that, and Logan is there, Weston’s a dead man. We too could be dead. Do me a favor? Play it my way. Let it cool. Let me watch.”
Ross turned this over in his mind. He felt confident that Hollis was talking sense, but still he hesitated, remembering Tom Mason.
“When I was serving in Vietnam,” Hollis said quietly, “a sniper knocked off twenty young men. It took me ten days, hidden in the jungle, to get him. Finally the bastard relaxed and I spotted him. Sheriff, this is a specialist’s job and I’m a specialist. Watch and wait. Will you let me play it my way?”
Ross put his hand on Hollis’s shoulder. “Okay, son,” he said. “We’ll do it your way, but I must report to Jenner.”
Hollis shook his head. “Again with respect, Sheriff, we should tell no one. I’ll wait... and I’ll watch. We’ll come back here tomorrow evening, keep in touch by radio. If you tell Jenner, he’ll start action, and that’s what we don’t want right now. We don’t know if Logan is there, so don’t tell anyone.”
Ross shrugged helplessly. “Okay.” He turned and began to plod along the path, then paused.
“I’ll have to tell Jenner something.
“Sure.” Hollis grinned. “I suggest you tell him we checked out the fishing lodges and haven’t found Logan. We haven’t found him yet, have we, Sheriff?”
“Would you remember Jud Loss, his wife and daughter? Logan arrived at the farm and massacred the three of them with an ax.”
Perry leaned against the Toyota, feeling sick. He vividly remembered Jud Loss, a short, thickset man with ginger colored hair. Loss often came down to the Rockville bar, and he and Perry often had beers together.
Murdered! He would make a break for it! Run after Ross! Get away from this nightmare.
“Very nice, Perry.” Brown’s hard clipped voice made his heart skip a beat. He turned. Brown was standing in the doorway, gun in hand.
“Very nice,” Brown repeated. “Come on in, Perry. We both can relax, huh? Those slobs won’t be coming back. You played it really cool.” The gun waved at Perry. “Come on in.” Under the threat of the gun, Perry walked unsteadily into the living room.
He heard Brown lock the garage door, then he came into the room.
“For handling that, Perry,” Brown said, “I’ll cook you a nice supper. Like a chicken?”
Perry sat down. “I don’t want anything.”
“Sure you do. You want a big Scotch.” Brown dropped the gun into its holster and crossed to the liquor cabinet. He poured Scotch, came back to Perry and thrust the glass into his hand.
“You’ll be okay in a moment. My old man was a lush. When I could steal a bottle, Scotch cheered him up.” Perry swallowed the drink in one long, greedy gulp, then he shuddered and dropped the glass onto the floor.
Brown sat on the arm of a lounging chair, watching.
“You filthy brute!” Perry blurted out. “You killed a friend of mine!” Brown shrugged.
“I didn’t know. If I had known, it wouldn’t have made any difference. The stupid jerk put me under pressure. I get mad when jerks put me under pressure. Here’s what happened. There was this car crash and the two cops I killed. I took off. I walked and ran in the rain for ten miles. I hadn’t eaten for two days. I was bloody hungry. I came to this farm. I banged on the door.
“This jerk opened up. I asked him for food.” Brown’s face hardened. “Know what he said to me? He said, ‘Get the hell off my land. I don’t give handouts to bums!” and he slammed the door. I had nowhere to go. I was wetter than a drowned dog.
“Know something, Perry? When I want something and some stupid jerk won’t part, I get mad and, when I get mad, it’s just too bad for stupid jerks. I found the ax in a shed. I went back and kicked the door in.
“I found the jerk and his wife settling to a hot meal. I fixed them. Then I heard a scream and there was a girl coming down the stairs. Her screams got me madder so I chased her up to her room and fixed her. Then I went downstairs and ate the meal on the table. It was good.” Brown nodded. “Yeah, it sure was good. The telephone bell kept ringing. I guessed it was the cops, checking. I guessed before long, they’d come up to check, so I hid in the shed. When I saw there was only one of them, I fixed him and took his car. That’s how it happened, Perry. All stupid jerks.”
He stared for a long, hard moment at Perry. “Don’t you be a stupid jerk. Now, I’ll go fix a chicken dinner. Give yourself another drink.” He got to his feet, then paused.
Watching him, Perry saw Brown’s face turn into a snarling, vicious mask. The sight of his murderous looking face sent a chill down Perry’s spine.
He saw Brown was staring at the disconnected telephone cable.
“Goddam it!” Brown muttered. “I should have fixed that.” He turned. “They didn’t say anything, did they? I was listening. Maybe they didn’t spot it. The old fart is brainless, but the other guy looked tough.” His eyes narrowed.
“I’ll take a look. You sit right here. Don’t be a stupid jerk.” Perry heard him run upstairs. A moment later, he came back, wearing Tom Mason’s slicker.
“I’ll take a look,” he said and, opening the front door, he disappeared into the growing gloom and rain.
Perry got to his feet and poured himself another Scotch.
There was nothing he could do, he told himself. The Scotch had got him over the shock of hearing the Loss family had been murdered. He returned to his chair, lit a cigarette and sipped the drink. He looked at his watch. The time was now 7:10. Already it was turning dark. He thought of the night ahead. How long would this man remain here? He finished his drink. He now felt relaxed and a little high.
Would Ross and Hollis return? Had they spotted the telephone cable? Did they suspect Brown was here?
He got to his feet and began to prowl around the room. Brown would never be taken alive. We’ll share a double funeral. For the first time in his life, Perry realized how important life was to him. He had to do everything he could to prevent a shootout, knowing that he would be the first to get shot.