Hidden Prey

Walther? The guy looked like a walking heart attack. And he outran me up and down the hills of Duluth, carrying a pizza box?”
    Then they all rode for a while, and finally Andreno said, “You know the old line: too many facts can fuck up a perfectly good case.”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    “What is this?” Nadya asked.
     
    T HEY WENT TO Janet Walther’s house, which was on the way into downtown Hibbing, found it—nobody home—and continued to the frame shop. An older woman in a cloth coat was talking to Walther about a frame for a photograph of her grandchildren, something under twenty-five dollars, and Walther, almost flinching away from Lucas, Andreno, and Nadya, took her to a ready-made stand and helped her choose one. The woman said twice, “You can help these other people,”and she smiled and nodded at Lucas, but Walther said, “No, no, let’s get this right.”
    When the woman was finally gone, she moved behind her counter and said, “What do you want?”
    “Your ex-husband was living with a woman named Kelly Harbinson, up near Virginia,” Lucas began.
    “So what? I don’t know what he does, and I don’t care.”
    “We found her shot to death in her bed this morning. Roger Walther is missing. We’re looking for him.”
    Her mouth opened and closed, and opened and closed again, as though she were having trouble breathing, and then she said, “Oh, my God.”
    “Have you seen him?”
    “Not for weeks. He came here and asked for a loan and I told him I didn’t have any extra.”
    “You don’t know where he might be running to? Or how he might be getting there?”
    She shook her head: “I have no idea. This whole spy thing is crazy, though. He’s probably in a tavern in Duluth. Or here.” She looked out the front window, as though she expected him to show up. Then, “Are you sure he’s the one who . . . did it?”
    “He was living with her, he’s missing, apparently some clothing and his shaving equipment are gone . . .”
    “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
    He tried a threat: “You know that if you’re hiding him, or helping him, you’re an accomplice.”
    Now she raised her voice: “I’m not doing that! I don’t like the man anymore! He’s not the man I married anymore! I don’t have anything to do with him!”
    Lucas swerved to a new topic: “How . . . senile . . . is Burt Walther? Is he qualified to take care of his wife?”
    “Burt? Burt’s not senile. Burt’s sharp as a tack.” Her voice was sharp,at first, as though she was afraid of a trick. Then her voice softened: “Melodie has gone away, though. She was a nice woman, and she’s gone now. If Grandpa couldn’t take care of her, I don’t know what would happen. They’d lose the house if they had to put her in a nursing home.”
    “Burt’s not senile.”
    “No, he’s not senile. Have you talked to him?”
     
    O UT THE DOOR , PISSED .
    Lucas said to Nadya, “You were right. The guy bullshitted me. That doesn’t happen too often.”
    “It’s because you’re afraid to look at old people who are, mmm, mentally dying? I don’t know your word, but you know what I mean,” Nadya said. “This happened to my grandfather, when he lived with us, and I saw it all. Old friends would not look at him or talk to him. It is very unpleasant. Burt did not seem that way to me.”
     
    T HERE WAS NO ONE at Burt Walther’s house. Lucas banged on the door, and looked in the windows, and finally a neighbor came out and said, “They’re not home. Can I help you with something?”
    “We’re police officers and we need to talk with Burt Walther,” Lucas said. “Have you seen him?”
    “This is their day at the doctor,” the man said. “You missed them by ten minutes. They’re usually gone for two hours.”
    “Do you know which doctor?”
    “Not exactly which, but I know the clinic . . .”
     
    A T THE CLINIC , Andreno spotted Walther’s Taurus. “They’re here. Want to go in after them?”
    Lucas, still a little angry, thought about it, but finally shook his head.“We can wait. Let’s get lunch. No point in messing with them in public.”
     
    T HEY TOOK N ADYA to a Subway; she liked the sandwiches and Lucas suggested that a franchise might work in Moscow. “Probably is one,” she said. “We have one of everything now.”
     
    T HEY SWUNG PAST the clinic on the way back to the Walther house, and the Taurus was still there. Down on the main drag, they stocked up on newspapers— New