Page 57 of Deathmarch
“I think the killer drove to Lamm’s place, maybe parked his vehicle a street or two over. By the time he was done emptying the safe, his car was snowed in, stuck. It’s an uphill neighborhood. Some of the streets are pretty steep, difficult to navigate in bad weather. Lamm’s Camry is four-wheel drive. The killer filled it with his loot and drove off. He got this far, was probably nervous, blood pressure up. He’s eighty-something, maybe he can’t see well at night, especially with all the blowing snow. Reflexes slower than they used to be. He lost control of the vehicle.”
“Lucky he could climb out.”
Harper ran through the theory in his mind as if he was playing a movie reel. “Gets out, drags out his loot. The bag had to be next to him, or on the back seat. Couldn’t have pried it from the trunk with the car turned like that.”
“Then he walks back to town?”
“Except the weather is worse than expected, the loot too damn heavy. He drags his freezing ass a mile and realizes he can’t go any farther like that. He needs to lighten the load. He sees Allie’s car in the snowbank. He splits the loot, stashing the gold in the trunk and taking the silver with him. He’s going to walk to town, dig out his own car, then return. He figures nobody would be back for the Chevy before morning.”
“But you drove by with the plow and found Allie, and then her car.”
Harper nodded.
“You didn’t see anyone walking?”
“Nobody. Then again, if he wore a light coat… He could have jumped in the ditch when he heard me coming. Hell, I barely saw Allie, and she was dressed as a grizzly bear.”
“Why didn’t the killer dig his car out in the first place?”
“He just killed a man. He’s in a panic. His brain is screaming,go-go-go get away before someone sees you.”
“You think you’ll figure out which one of the old geezers did it?”
“Hey!” Harper pulled an offended look. “Am I or am I not Harper Finnegan, Broslin’s top detective?”
Mike shrugged. “I guess we can ask Chase about that.”
“Watch me and learn.” Harper pulled on plastic gloves, then stepped closer, ran his hands along the bottom of the back bumper, found the little magnetic box he was looking for. “Backup keys.”
“How did you know?”
“My grandfather had them. My father has them. I think it’s mandatory for guys over a certain age. You don’t have one, they take away your AARP card.”
He unlocked the front door, had to drop to his knees in the mud to stick his head in.
“Empty Styrofoam coffee cups and a couple of napkins. Probably Lamm’s.” He backed out. “See if you can take some pictures, then we’ll take more once the tow truck pulls it right-side up.”
While Mike did just that, Harper went to check the trunk, but he couldn’t open it. Or rather, he could have opened it to maybe two inches, but risked that whatever was inside would fall out into the mud. He chose not to contaminate evidence and possibly obscure any precious fingerprints.
In fact…
“I’m going to start dusting for prints. Just what I can reach for now.” He climbed out of the ditch and pulled his cruiser in front of Mike’s so it wouldn’t be in the way when the tow truck came.
Once he had his kit, he dusted all around the trunk and each doorway. He didn’t bother with the inside. He’d do that once the Camry was at the station.
By the time he finished and stashed his supplies away again, Billy Picket was pulling up with his tow truck. “Heard you all need some help.”
Righting the Camry required all three of them, then some further maneuvering to pull it from the ditch. They were all covered in mud, huffing and puffing by the end, then laughing at each other.
Billy wiped his forehead, having worked up a sweat. “I think we all need to spend more time at the gym.”
Mike flashed a goofy grin. “Hey, do you know what demons do to get strong?”
Harper flashed him a long-suffering look, but Billy took the bait. “No. What?”
“They exorcise.” Mike laughed.
Billy laughed with him. “I gotta tell that one to my wife. You’re a born comedian, my friend.”
