InSight

not a lie.”
    “Our people have gone over this place like a prospector sifting for gold. If there’s a hidden safe or compartment, we haven’t found it. Whoever tossed the place did a neat job. No prints, no hairs, no nada. If it weren’t for the missing computer, we wouldn’t know anyone’s been here.”
    “Whatever Matt found has to be here,” Luke said. “Maybe Mrs. Gentry thought I knew something.”
    “Maybe. Go to it. I’ll be back later.”
    Luke knocked on every wall and panel while an officer listened for anything that sounded hollow. He inspected every floorboard and carpet edge, checked every inch of the patio for signs of freshly dug dirt or loose bricks, unscrewed every vent and ceiling light, and scrutinized every appliance. Nothing.
    The systematic dissection reminded him of Gene Hackman tearing apart an apartment piece by–piece, hunting for a secret listening device in Coppola’s The Conversation. Luke hadn’t descended to that level, but he could envision it happening.
    Matt hid papers implicating Carlotta Gentry in something so disreputable that she sacrificed her own son and racked up five bodies to protect herself: Mr. Gentry, the pilot, Sam Davidson, Macy, and Matt. He wanted to nail her before she added another name to the list.
    Norm returned and touched Luke’s shoulder to get his attention. “Time to call it a day.”
    “The evidence is here. I know it.”
    “Maybe, maybe not, but we’ve got to go. Sorry.”
    Luke inspected the apartment one more time. Shaking his head, he followed Norm out the door.
    It’s here. I know it is.
    * * * * *
    T hat night, Luke, Abby, Norm, and Jeff gathered at Hyman’s for a last get-together to discuss their options. “So, what have we got?” Luke asked, shifting his focus from one to the other to see who spoke first.
    Norm leaned back, patting a stomach full of crab cakes and beer. “Hypothetical: Matt found papers that incriminated Carlotta Gentry in some crime, for lack of a better word. If there are copies, we can’t find them. We know someone searched the house because the computer’s gone.
    “Speculative: Stewart Gentry, a documented schizophrenic, said he heard his mother and Graeme Collyer discuss killing his father right after his plane crashed on the Georgia coast.
    “Conjecture: At about the same time, Sam Davidson, Martin Gentry’s attorney, turns up dead on Folly Beach . No proof the two deaths are related.
    “Inconclusive: Stewart Gentry is the research guinea pig of Dr. Herbert Scanlon, a renowned physician.
    “Unanswerable: Is Stewart Gentry still alive because he possesses knowledge of something the bad guys want? And if they ever get him to open up, is he dead meat?”
    Luke caught enough to understand Norm’s take on the matter.
    “Well, since you put it that way,” Jeff said
    “Exactly. Bottom line: we have no proof of anything. We can’t even prove Matt was murdered.”
    “What about his accident?” Abby said. “You said someone ran him off the road.”
    “Matt was driving too fast. That’s been established. He could have lost control or been the victim of a hit and run. Prove it was intentional and prove Collyer or one of his men did it. Do you know how many hit and runs there are in this country? Shit happens and drivers take off. Then prove Matt had incriminating evidence with him.” As Norm scanned the faces of his four companions, he said, “Another beer, anyone?”
    Luke saw people talking at other tables, waiters running around, and all he heard was silence.
    “Give me hard evidence,” Norm continued. “Then I’ll start an official investigation. Hell, I can’t even prove Scanlon held Luke, or that Mrs. Gentry was involved. Luke’s memory has been erased. We got nothing, folks. Nothing but theories, and my boss told me he didn’t want to hear any more of them. He doesn’t want me wasting time proving his buddy Carlotta Gentry is dirty.” Norm took a long drink of his beer, slammed his glass onto the table, and wiped his mouth.
    Luke saw his frustration. “I know we’re right.”
    “I know we are, too, but I need something concrete. In my hand. Black and white.”
    “I still say Stewart’s the key,” Abby said. “There’s more here than an overheard conversation. Luke’s right. Somewhere in Stewart’s messed up mind, he has knowledge that could put his mother away for a very long time. Collyer, too. We have to be careful with him.”
    “I think you’re generous to a