Read From Potter's Field Online

Authors: Patricia Cornwell

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Women Sleuths, #Mystery Fiction, #Mystery, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Fiction - Espionage, #Thriller, #Women Physicians, #Scarpetta, #Medical, #Kay (Fictitious character), #Virginia, #Forensic pathologists, #Medical examiners (Law), #Medical novels

From Potter's Field (31 page)

BOOK: From Potter's Field
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'Yes, ma'am, he danced with a girl or two. You know, he'd buy them a drink. Then next thing I know he was gone.'

 

'Did he leave alone?'

 

'It looked to me like one girl went with him.'

 

 

'Do you know who?' I asked with dread. I hoped the woman, whoever she was, had lived.

 

'It wasn't anybody I knew,' Jennifer said. 'I just remember he was dancing with this one girl. He must've danced with her three times and then they walked off the floor together, holding hands.'

 

'Describe her,' I said.

 

'She was black. She was real pretty in this little red dress. It was low cut and kind of short. I remember she had bright red lipstick and all these little braids with little lights winking in them.' She paused.

 

'And you're certain they left the club together?' I asked.

 

'As far as I could tell. I never saw either one of them again that night, and me and Tommy stayed till two.'

 

I said to her, 'I want you to call Captain Marino and tell him what you just told me.'

 

Jennifer got out of the chair and felt important. 'I'll get started right this minute.'

 

I returned to my office as Rose was walking through the door.

 

'You need to call Dr. Gruber,' she said.

 

I dialed the number for the Quartermaster Museum, and he had stepped out. He called me back two hours later.

 

'Is the snow bad in Petersburg?' I asked him.

 

'Oh, it's just wet and messy.'

 

'How are things?'

 

'I've got something for you,' Dr. Gruber said. 'I feel real bad about it.'

 

I waited. When he offered nothing more, I said, 'What do you feel bad about, exactly?'

 

'I went into the computer and ran the name you wanted. I shouldn't have.' He got quiet again.

 

'Dr. Gruber, I'm dealing with a serial killer.'

 

'He was never in the army.'

 

'You mean his father wasn't,' I said, disappointed.

 

'Neither of them was,' Dr. Gruber said. 'Not Temple or Peyton Gault.'

 

'Oh,' I said. 'So the boots probably came from a surplus store.'

 

'Might have, but he may have an uncle.'

 

'Who has an uncle?'

 

'Temple Gault. That's what I'm wondering. There's a Gault in the computer, only his name is Luther. Luther Gault. He served in the Quartermaster Corps during World War Two.' He paused. 'In fact, he was right here at Ft. Lee a lot of the time.'

 

I had never heard of Luther Gault.

 

'Is he still alive?' I asked.

 

'He died in Seattle about five years ago,'

 

'What makes you suspicious this man might be Temple Gault's uncle?' I asked. 'Seattle's on the other side of the country from Georgia, which is where the Gaults are from.'

 

'The only real connection I can make is the last name and Ft. Lee.'

 

I then asked, 'Do you think it's possible the jungle boots once belonged to him?'

 

'Well, they're World War Two, and were tested here at Ft. Lee, which is where Luther Gault was stationed for most of his career. What would typically happen is soldiers, even some officers, would be asked to try out boots and other gear before any of it was sent to the boys in the trenches,'

 

'What did Luther Gault do after the army?'

 

'I don't have any information on him after the army except that he died at the age of seventy-eight,' He paused. 'But it might interest you to know he was a career man. He retired with the rank of major general,'

 

'And you had never heard of him before this?'

 

'I didn't say I've never heard of him,' He paused. 'I'm sure the army has quite a file on him if you could get your hands on it,'

 

'Would it be possible for me to get a photograph?'

 

'I have one on the computer - just your run-of-the-mill file photo,'

 

'Can you fax it?'

 

He hesitated again. 'Sure,'

 

I hung up as Rose walked in with yesterday's autopsy protocols. I reviewed them and made corrections while I waited for the fax machine to ring. Momentarily, it did, and the black-and-white image of Luther Gault materialized in my office. He stood proudly in dark mess jacket and pants with gold piping and buttons, and satin lapels. The resemblance was there. Temple Gault had his eyes.

 

I called Wesley.

 

'Temple Gault may have had an uncle in Seattle,' I said. 'He was a major general in the army,'

 

'How did you find that out?' he asked.

 

I did not like his coolness. 'It doesn't matter. What does is that I think we need to find out all we can about it,'

 

Wesley maintained his reserve. 'How is it germane?'

 

I lost my temper. 'How is anything germane when you're trying to stop somebody like this? When you've got nothing, you look at everything,'

 

'Sure, sure,' he said. 'It's no problem, but we can't schedule it just now. You too,' He hung up.

 

I sat there stunned, my heart gripped by pain. Someone must have been in his office. Wesley had never hung up on me before. My paranoia got more inflamed as I went to find Lucy.

 

'Hi,' she said before I spoke from the doorway.

 

She could see my reflection in the monitor.

 

'We've got to go,' I said.

 

'Why? Is it snowing again?'

 

'No. The sun's out.'

 

'I'm almost finished here,' she said, typing as she talked.

 

'I need to get you and Janet back to Quantico.'

 

'You need to call Grans,' she said. 'She's feeling neglected.'

 

'She is neglected and I feel guilty,' I said.

 

Lucy turned around and looked at me as my pager went off.

 

'Where is Janet?' I asked.

 

'I think she went downstairs.'

 

I pressed the display button and recognized Marino's home number. 'Well, you round her up and I'll meet you downstairs in a minute.'

 

I returned to my office and this time shut the doors. When I called Marino, he sounded as if he were on amphetamines.

 

'They're gone,' he said.

 

'Who is?'

 

'We found out where they was staying. The Hacienda Motel on US 1, that roach trap not too far from where you buy all your guns and ammo. That's where that bitch took her girlfriend.'

 

'What girlfriend?' I still did not know what he was talking about. Then I remembered Jennifer. 'Oh. The woman Carrie picked up at Rumors.'

 

'Yo.' He was so excited he sounded as if he had been on a Mayday. 'Her name's Apollonia and-'

 

'She's alive?' I interrupted.

 

'Oh yeah. Carrie took her back to the motel and they partied.'

 

'Who drove?'

 

'Apollonia did.'

 

'Did you find my van in the motel parking lot?'

 

'Not when we hit the joint a little while ago. And the rooms were cleared out. It's like they was never there.'

 

 

'Then Carrie wasn't in New York this past Tuesday,' I said.

 

'Nope. She was here partying while Gault was up there whacking Jimmy Davila. Then I'm thinking she got a place ready for him and probably helped intercept him wherever he was.'

 

'I doubt he flew from New York to Richmond,' I said. 'That would have been too risky.'

 

'I personally think he flew to DC on Wednesday . . .'

 

'Marino,' I said. 'I flew to DC on Wednesday.'

 

'I know you did. Maybe you and him was on the same plane.'

 

'I didn't see him.'

 

'You don't know that you didn't. But the point is, if you were on the same plane, you can bet he saw you.'

 

I remembered leaving the terminal and getting into that old, beat-up taxi with the windows and locks that didn't work. I wondered if Gault had been watching.

 

'Does Carrie have a car?' I asked.

 

'She's got a Saab convertible registered to her. But she sure as hell isn't driving it these days.'

 

'I'm not certain why she picked up this Apollonia woman,' I said. 'And how did you find her?'

 

'Easy. She works at Rumors. I'm not sure what all she sells, but it isn't just cigarettes.'

 

'Damn,' I muttered.

 

'I'm assuming the connection is coke,' Marino said. 'And it might interest you to know that Apollonia was acquainted with Sheriff Brown. In fact, they dated, you might say.'

 

'Do you think she could have had anything to do with his murder?' I asked.

 

'Yeah, I do. She probably helped lead Gault and Carrie to him. I'm beginning to think the sheriff was pretty much a last-minute thing. I think Carrie asked Apollonia where she could score some coke, and Brown's name came up. Then Carrie tells Gault and he orchestrates another one of his impetuous nightmares.'

 

'That could very well be,' I said. 'Did Apollonia know Carrie was a woman?'

 

'Yeah. It didn't matter.'

 

'Damn,' I said again. 'We were so close.'

 

'I know. I just can't believe they slipped through the net like that. We got everything but the National Guard looking for them. We got choppers out, the whole nine yards. But in my gut I feel they've left the area.'

 

'I just called Benton and he hung up on me,' I said.

 

'What? You guys have a fight?'

 

'Marino, something is very wrong. I had a sense that someone was in his office and he didn't want this person to know he was talking to me.'

 

'Maybe it was his wife.'

 

'I'm heading up there now with Lucy and Janet.'

 

'You staying the night?'

 

'That all depends.'

 

'Well, I wish you wouldn't be driving around. And if anybody tries to pull you over for any reason, don't you stop. Not for lights or sirens or nothing. Don't stop for anything but a marked patrol car.' He gave me one of his lectures. 'And keep your Remington between the front seats.'

 

'Gault's not going to stop killing,' I said.

 

Marino got quiet on the line.

 

'When he was in my office he stole my set of dissecting knives.'

 

'You sure someone from the cleaning crew didn't do it? Those knives would be good for fileting fish.'

 

'I know Gault did it,' I said.

 

 

 

16

 

We returned to Quantico shortly after three, and when I tried to reach Wesley, he was not in. I left a message for him to find me at ERF, where I planned to spend the next few hours with my niece.

 

No engineers or scientists were on her floor because it was a holiday weekend, and we were able to work alone and in quiet.

 

'I could definitely get global mail out,' Lucy said, sitting at her desk. She glanced at her watch. 'Look, why not just throw something out there and see who bites?'

 

'Let me try the chief from Seattle again.'

 

I had his number on a slip of paper and called it. I was told he had left for the day.

 

'It's very important that I reach him,' I explained to the answering service. 'Perhaps he can be reached at home?'

 

'I'm not at liberty to give that out. But if you'll give me your phone number, when he calls in for his messages . . .'

 

'I can't do that,' I said as my frustration grew. 'I'm not at a number he can call.' I told her who I was, adding, 'What I'm going to do is give you my pager number. Please have him call me and then I'll call him.'

 

That didn't work. An hour later my pager remained silent.

 

'She probably didn't get it straight about putting pound signs after everything,' Lucy said as she cruised around inside CAIN.

 

'Any strange messages anywhere?' I asked.

 

'No. It's a Friday afternoon and a lot of people are on holiday. I think we should send something out over Prodigy and see what comes back.'

 

I sat next to her.

 

'What's the name of the group?'

 

'American Academy of Gold Foil Operators.'

 

'And their highest concentration is Washington State?'

 

'Yes. But it can't hurt to include the entire West Coast.'

 

'Well, this will include the entire United States,' Lucy said as she typed Prodigy and entered her service ID and password. 'I think the best way to do this is through the mail.' She pulled up a Jump Window. 'What do you want me to say?' She looked over at me.

 

'How about this? To all American Academy of Gold Foil Operators. Forensic pathologist desperately needs your help ASAP. And then give them the information to contact us.'

 

'All right. I'll give them a mailbox here and carbon copy it to your mailbox in Richmond.' She resumed typing. 'The replies may come in for a while. You may find you get a lot of dentists for pen pals.'

 

She tapped a key as if it were a coda and pushed back her chair. 'There. It's gone,' she said. 'Even as we speak, every Prodigy subscriber should have a New Mail message. Let's just hope someone out there is playing with their computer and can help.'

 

Even as she spoke, her screen suddenly went black, and bright green letters started flowing across it. A printer turned on.

 

'That was quick,' I started to stay.

BOOK: From Potter's Field
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