Dark of the Moon

cigarette by the Schmidts’ stoop. He knew we’d pick it up. I knew that Feur smoked, and I thought they were Salems. I’m sure it would have come up at some point, if there was ever a question. A trial.”
    “Why? Why would he do all this?” Little Curly asked. “Judd’s money?”
    Virgil shook his head. “Nope. Basically, he did it because he’s nuts. Nuts, but careful, and he thought he was smart enough that he could get away with it. I don’t think he could really help himself on the killings—not on the first five, anyway, the Gleasons and the Schmidts, and Judd Senior, Judd Junior might have been a cleaning up.
    “But after he killed the Gleasons, I think he decided to try to pin it on Feur. Just in case. And maybe, because his office was right there with the Judds’, he knew that Judd Junior and Feur were involved with each other, and he could throw enough suspicion on Feur to create doubt, even if we did tumble to him. So he started by planting the Revelation. Then the Salem. And to tell you the truth, those documents we found in Judd’s computer: there wasn’t a thing in Judd’s own machine, but they were right there in his secretary’s.”
    “Like they were planted?” Jensen asked.
    “I don’t know,” Virgil said. “But when Jim saw them, he drew a line from anhydrous ammonia to ethanol to meth pretty goddamn quick. It like jumped up and bit you on the ass.”
    “Williamson’s office has an internal connection with the Judds’,” Big Curly said. “There’re equipment and storage spaces behind all three offices, with connecting doors. He could have sat in there as long as he wanted, at night, working on the locks. Maybe they weren’t even locked—it was all behind the same security system. He used to work all night, sometimes. Nobody would have thought anything of it, seeing him come out of there in the middle of the night.”
     
    “T HE THING about framing Feur is…it might still work,” Jensen said.
    “It might,” Virgil agreed. “A decent defense attorney will put Judd and Feur on trial, tie them to the Gleasons and the Schmidts. The Gleasons and the Schmidts did help cover up a murder…”
    Jensen: “What?”
    “I’m keeping some of it confidential,” Virgil said. “But I’ll fill you in later.”
    The three deputies looked at each other. “What are you going to do?” Big Curly asked.
    “Nothing, right now. Just keep your eyes open and your heads down.”
    Little Curly stood up and said, “That’s it?”
    Virgil nodded: “Yeah. I’m willing to hold this talk privately—I’m not required to file a public report. But I really do think you should drop any election plans. It might even be a good idea to show some public support for Jim Stryker for reelection.”
    Big Curly said, “Shit.”
    “Six people dead so far,” Virgil said. “Your relationship with Williamson would be a tough thing to come up, during an election year.”
    Big Curly looked around the courtroom and said, “There are things that ain’t right about this place.”
    Little Curly interrupted: “Shut up, Dad.” He said to Virgil, “It’s a deal. We’re backing Jim.” To his father: “Let’s go, Dad. C’mon. Let’s go.”
    They trooped out, but a couple of seconds later, Big Curly stuck his head back inside the courtroom. “I’m sorry,” he said. Then he was gone.
    Jensen said, “Now what? I’m not sure that any of this will get a conviction…”
    “I gotta run an errand,” Virgil said. “I’ll be back in the early afternoon.”
     
    J ESSE L AYMON was sitting at the bar, eating a cheeseburger, talking to a guy with a flattop and a red face, whose arm was very close to hers. They both had beer glasses in front of them. Her ass looked terrific on a bar stool, Virgil thought, as he pulled up next to her and said, “Hello, darlin’. Am I late?”
    The flattop guy gave him a drop-dead stare, and Jesse said, “Hey, Virgil.” She pointed to the beefy guy and said, “This is Chuck, uh…”
    “Marker,” the beefy guy said.
    “Marker, who is a deputy sheriff with Kandiyohi County,” she said. “We have some friends in common, in Willmar. And Chuck, this is Virgil Flowers, of the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension, who is trying to keep me from being murdered.”
    Marker straightened a little: “What?”
    “She’s the center of a pretty big…Say, you guys known each other long?” Virgil asked, looking from one to the other.
    Marker picked up his glass: “About