The Edge
Page 108
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"I'd like you all to leave now. I've been very cooperative, but enough is enough. Why are you staring at me, Agent Savich?"
"You said your son was taking Paul's drug," Savich said, his hand still on Sherlock's shoulder.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. I'm not sure what it was, but he's seemed more aggressive, not always in control of himself."
"What we gave Cotter, my dear, was a simple tranquilizer that Paul recommended, nothing more." Alyssum Tarcher had entered the room speaking these words. He stood tall and imposing in tailored Italian slacks and a white shirt open at his throat. How much had he heard his wife spill?
He continued, "Well, if it isn't more federal agents, in my living room, threatening my wife and bullying my son. Poor Cotter is in a state. Now, I've had it with all of you. If you don't have a warrant, I want you out of here."
"Sir," I said to Alyssum Tarcher, "we came to ask you about Jilly. She's still missing. I'm very worried about her. Have you seen her? Do you know where she is?"
"We haven't seen Jilly since before her accident," he said.
"Do you think Jilly was taking Paul's drug?" Savich asked. "Do you think she was taking too much of it? That it made her mentally unstable and that's why she drove off the cliff?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. You are upsetting my wife."
Laura was hurting, I could tell, but she was controlling it well. She said, "Did you know that John Molinas was murdered in Costa Rica at a drug compound run by Del Cabrizo?"
"It was on the national news," Alyssum said slowly, one eye on his wife. She was sitting very still, her eyes on her ballet slippers. "Neither Elaine nor I have seen John in a very long time. We were saddened to hear of his death."
"Unfortunately, your niece is missing," Sherlock said.
"My brother loved his daughter very much," Elaine said, rising slowly to stand by her husband. "He wasn't a bad man."
"I want you to leave now," Alyssum Tarcher said. "I am innocent of any drug-trafficking charges, these horrible murders that you and your sister, Mr. MacDougal, seem to have brought to us. There is nothing for you here. I don't plan to fall apart and confess because there is nothing to confess. Get out now."
We were nearly to the front door when he said from behind us, "I'll be sending you a bill for the repairs I had to have done on Seagull Cottage. You left it in a mess."
He had wonderful gall.
"That was a good touch," Savich said as we left. "That man's something."
I turned to look back at the house. I saw Cotter staring at us through one of the upstairs windows. When he saw me looking up at him, the curtain fell back over the window. I knew exactly what the drug had done to him. But he'd probably loved it. Had his father taken the drug as well? His mother? I didn't think so. As for Cal, I'd probably never be certain one way or the other.
I felt empty. Coming here had been a waste of time. Jilly was gone and I had no idea now where to look.
"Let's spend the night in Salem at my condo," Laura said. "I want to see Grubster and Nolan. When I called the super from San Jose", he said they were eating well, but not happy that I was gone. It was very nice of Maggie to take them back home."
"Will they sleep with us?"
"It's a queen-size bed," Laura said. "There'll be room enough for all of us. Oh, yes, I've got a nice guest room for Sherlock and Savich."
I called Maggie Sheffield and told her where we'd be if anything happened to turn up, which I strongly doubted. So did she, but she was nice enough not to say so.
I fell asleep in Laura's very comfortable bed, at arm's length from Laura because Grubster had decided to pun-the night away snuggled against her side.
I dreamed I saw headlights, bright and sharp, piercing through a dense fog that seemed to cover everything in a thick veil of white.
Odd, but I could clearly see the road ahead. It was coming at me quickly, too quickly. I wanted to yell and smash down on the brakes, but I couldn't. If there were brakes, I didn't know where to find them. I wanted to get away from that highway that was moving so quickly, but I was helpless. I was trapped.
I couldn't draw a breath I was so afraid. Suddenly, I heard a soft keening sound from beside me. It was a woman moaning as if she hadn't anything left, as if there was nothing more for her and she knew it and accepted it.
I wanted us both to stop, but the road kept coming up through those bright headlights, faster and faster. I tried to tell her I was here with her, that I would help if I could. But she couldn't hear me.
"You said your son was taking Paul's drug," Savich said, his hand still on Sherlock's shoulder.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. I'm not sure what it was, but he's seemed more aggressive, not always in control of himself."
"What we gave Cotter, my dear, was a simple tranquilizer that Paul recommended, nothing more." Alyssum Tarcher had entered the room speaking these words. He stood tall and imposing in tailored Italian slacks and a white shirt open at his throat. How much had he heard his wife spill?
He continued, "Well, if it isn't more federal agents, in my living room, threatening my wife and bullying my son. Poor Cotter is in a state. Now, I've had it with all of you. If you don't have a warrant, I want you out of here."
"Sir," I said to Alyssum Tarcher, "we came to ask you about Jilly. She's still missing. I'm very worried about her. Have you seen her? Do you know where she is?"
"We haven't seen Jilly since before her accident," he said.
"Do you think Jilly was taking Paul's drug?" Savich asked. "Do you think she was taking too much of it? That it made her mentally unstable and that's why she drove off the cliff?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. You are upsetting my wife."
Laura was hurting, I could tell, but she was controlling it well. She said, "Did you know that John Molinas was murdered in Costa Rica at a drug compound run by Del Cabrizo?"
"It was on the national news," Alyssum said slowly, one eye on his wife. She was sitting very still, her eyes on her ballet slippers. "Neither Elaine nor I have seen John in a very long time. We were saddened to hear of his death."
"Unfortunately, your niece is missing," Sherlock said.
"My brother loved his daughter very much," Elaine said, rising slowly to stand by her husband. "He wasn't a bad man."
"I want you to leave now," Alyssum Tarcher said. "I am innocent of any drug-trafficking charges, these horrible murders that you and your sister, Mr. MacDougal, seem to have brought to us. There is nothing for you here. I don't plan to fall apart and confess because there is nothing to confess. Get out now."
We were nearly to the front door when he said from behind us, "I'll be sending you a bill for the repairs I had to have done on Seagull Cottage. You left it in a mess."
He had wonderful gall.
"That was a good touch," Savich said as we left. "That man's something."
I turned to look back at the house. I saw Cotter staring at us through one of the upstairs windows. When he saw me looking up at him, the curtain fell back over the window. I knew exactly what the drug had done to him. But he'd probably loved it. Had his father taken the drug as well? His mother? I didn't think so. As for Cal, I'd probably never be certain one way or the other.
I felt empty. Coming here had been a waste of time. Jilly was gone and I had no idea now where to look.
"Let's spend the night in Salem at my condo," Laura said. "I want to see Grubster and Nolan. When I called the super from San Jose", he said they were eating well, but not happy that I was gone. It was very nice of Maggie to take them back home."
"Will they sleep with us?"
"It's a queen-size bed," Laura said. "There'll be room enough for all of us. Oh, yes, I've got a nice guest room for Sherlock and Savich."
I called Maggie Sheffield and told her where we'd be if anything happened to turn up, which I strongly doubted. So did she, but she was nice enough not to say so.
I fell asleep in Laura's very comfortable bed, at arm's length from Laura because Grubster had decided to pun-the night away snuggled against her side.
I dreamed I saw headlights, bright and sharp, piercing through a dense fog that seemed to cover everything in a thick veil of white.
Odd, but I could clearly see the road ahead. It was coming at me quickly, too quickly. I wanted to yell and smash down on the brakes, but I couldn't. If there were brakes, I didn't know where to find them. I wanted to get away from that highway that was moving so quickly, but I was helpless. I was trapped.
I couldn't draw a breath I was so afraid. Suddenly, I heard a soft keening sound from beside me. It was a woman moaning as if she hadn't anything left, as if there was nothing more for her and she knew it and accepted it.
I wanted us both to stop, but the road kept coming up through those bright headlights, faster and faster. I tried to tell her I was here with her, that I would help if I could. But she couldn't hear me.
