Long Shadows (Amos Decker, #7)(85)

“How do you know that?”

“It was parked outside his office when we went to talk to him there,” said Decker.

“But how do you know it was his ride?”

“The vanity plate read LAW1. Doesn’t take a genius. And if his assistant or one of his associates is driving a Bentley, maybe we should apply to work for him.”

White looked chagrined.

“What?” he asked, noting this.

“I should have seen the Bentley and the plate.”

“I’ve got the advantage. Everything I see and hear, I remember, or pretty much everything.”

“Nice tool to have.”

“Yeah, but acquiring it was a real bitch.”

On the way to Chase’s neighborhood they stopped in at Ricardos. It was the place where Chase had told Decker that Langley had gone to get some gin the night of the murders, Decker told White.

A check of the receipts showed that Langley’s credit card had been used at five minutes past midnight to buy a bottle of gin. The man on duty had not been working during that time, so he couldn’t identify the picture of Langley that Decker showed him. Decker texted the picture to the clerk who had been on duty along with a message for the man to provide an answer on the ID.

They next spoke with three of Chase’s neighbors. One of them remembered the Bentley being there, but she couldn’t swear it was that night. The other two had not seen Chase or Langley that night, at least they didn’t think so. No one saw the Aston Martin, but Chase also had a garage where it could have been parked.

“Dead end,” said White as they walked back to their car.

“But at least it doesn’t conclusively rule out Langley as being the killer.”

“Well, if we can’t shake Chase’s story it sort of does.”

“We can pull the traffic camera records like you suggested.”

“If he used the Bentley. He might have another vehicle or he could have cabbed it or done a rideshare.”

“Or taken Chase’s car. We’ll have to check all angles.”

“You’re starting to think this guy is good for Cummins’s murder, aren’t you?”

He glanced at her. “I don’t know, Freddie. That’s why we do the dance.”

“But if so, Chase must be in on it.”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?”

“But you don’t?”

“I’m not sure that lady would take that kind of risk for anyone. She strikes me as being very much into self-preservation.”

“But if she loves the guy? Love can mess you up. Makes you do stuff you wouldn’t have ever contemplated.”

Decker thought of Mary Lancaster taking her own life, because she had briefly forgotten her beloved daughter. “Yes, it can.”





Chapter 62



THEY LATER HAD SOME DINNER at the hotel and it was well past dark when Decker steered the car back to Cummins’s house. They parked in front and got out. Doris Kline’s house was still dark and there was no sign of her car.

White said, “You want to talk to Trevor Perlman?”

“I’m not sure what else he could tell us that his wife couldn’t. Let’s go through Cummins’s house again. Something might pop.”

He unlocked the police lock on the front door and they went inside.

Decker immediately held up his hand and looked around.

White had heard it, too. Someone was inside the house.

They both pulled their weapons. Decker pointed up the stairs, where the noise seemed to be coming from.

They slowly made their way up, stopping at each riser to listen. When they reached the second-floor landing, Decker eased his head around the wall.

He whispered to White, “There’s a light on in Cummins’s bedroom.”

She nodded.

As they edged down the hall the noises became clearer.

Decker glanced in confusion at White.

It sounded like someone sobbing.

They reached the doorway leading into the bedroom, Decker on the right, White on the left. The door was partially closed.

Decker held up three fingers, then lowered them one by one. With the drop of the final finger, he kicked open the door and they surged inside, their guns arcing in front of them.

And then coming to hold on the man sitting on the bed.

Barry Davidson was the source of the sobs.

They did not lower their pistols, because Davidson also had a gun in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.

He looked up at them in bewilderment.

“What th-the f-fuck are you doing h-here?”

“Mr. Davidson,” said Decker, “we need you to put that gun down, right now.”

Davidson glanced at the gun, his expression one as though he were seeing the weapon for the first time and wondering how it had gotten in his hand.

“I-it’s m-my gun. B-bought and p-paid for.”

“I’m sure, but guns and liquor don’t really mix,” said White.

“It’s my g-gun.”

“Put it down,” said Decker.

“O-only had one l-little d-drink.”

“I think it was more than one. But let’s talk about it. After you put the gun down.”

“This is m-my h-house. Can b-be here if…if I want t-to.”