Page 43 of Line of Sight
“But you’re hoping to learn something about him.”
Gary sighed. “Anything. I also tried to contact Jennifer Sullivan, but unfortunately she’s on a business trip. I’ll try again when she gets back.”
“And what do you want to learn from her?”
“Whatever she can tell me about this camping trip she and her friends went on. Who organized it? Who paid for it? Who else went besides the other three? Whose idea was the early morning boat trip?”
“And speaking of which,” Riley said as he came through the door, “I finally managed to talk to someone who’d been around in ’97andwho knew how to get hold of the records. Took him half the day to find them, mind you.” He beamed. “And I did some digging about the camping trip. Hit pay dirt.”
“So what do we have?” Gary asked.
Riley consulted his notes. “The boat trip was paid in cash by… wait for it… one Thomas Harris.”
Gary blinked. “Didn’t he writeThe Silence of the Lambs?”
“Yessir, he did.”
“I don’t suppose there was a description of Mr. Harris?” Dan asked with an obvious note of hope in his voice.
Riley huffed. “Are you kidding? It was as much as he could do to find the booking details. And it gets better. The campsite? That was booked and paid for in cash by….” His eyes sparkled. “Jeffrey Deaver. And in case that name isn’t familiar to you, he wroteThe Bone Collector.”
Dan’s expression grew stony. “He’s laughing at us.”
“Then we’d better make damn sure we have the last laugh,” Gary declared.
4:00 p.m.
MR. ANDMrs. Wilson were in their late sixties, a polite couple who insisted on making tea and serving cake and cookies with it. Their cozy living room was crammed full of photos of their family. Mark had had one older brother and two younger sisters, and judging by the photos, there were a lot of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Mrs. Wilson poured the tea, her hand trembling slightly. “The one thing I remember vividly is Mark’s excitement. He’d lined up interviews with two companies.” Her brow furrowed. “Now, what were their names?”
“Eli Lilly & Co. and Merck & Co. Inc.,” Mr. Wilson supplied. “Either one would have been a good choice. Mark would have gone far, I have no doubt about that.”
“Tell us about Mark.” Dan accepted the delicate china teacup in its fragile saucer. “Did he have any hobbies? I know you told the detectives at the time that he was a regular climber.”
Mr. Wilson nodded. “We lived in a small town in Maine back then. Camden. It wasn’t far from there to Acadia, and we used to take him there for vacations.”
“Remember the first time he saw the Precipice Trail?” Mrs. Wilson chuckled. “He took one look at all the metal handles they’d put all over the place to help people climb, and his eyes were huge. He must’ve been about eight or nine at the time. He told us he wanted to climb to the top.”
“I persuaded him to wait a year or two, and he wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed.” He smiled. “That was it. He was hooked.”
“Did you ever meet Jennifer Sullivan, the student he was doing the research with?” Gary inquired.
Mrs. Wilson gave a nod. “A lovely young lady. She and Mark got along so well.”
“We saw her picture in the paper the year after Mark died,” Mr. Wilson added. “She went public with the breakthrough.” He swallowed. “She talked about Mark, about how her success was due to both of them. I thought that was decent of her.”
Dan had the impression the couple had never really gotten over Mark’s brutal death, which was understandable. He decided to tread lightly.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, I know Detective Mitchell told you on the phone that I’m working with Boston Police Department. The truth is, I’m a psychic. I’ve been helping the police since the summer, when they called me to consult on—”
“That nurse who killed all those men!” Mrs. Wilson stared at him. “Ithoughtyour face was familiar.”
“And now you’re working on Mark’s case?” Mr. Wilson frowned. “Have you discovered anything?”
“That’s why he’s here,” Gary explained. “We’re hoping you have some of Mark’s possessions, preferably something he would have worked with or touched frequently.”
“I’ve seen things like this on TV.” Mrs. Wilson glanced at her husband. “There are boxes in the attic, and I think there are one or two in the garage.” She turned to Dan. “All his climbing gear is in there.”
