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Authors: Nelson DeMille

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BOOK: Wild Fire
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CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

I
sat back on the couch, and Kate sat in an easy chair. I said, “All right. First, Bain Madox was half expecting me.” I added, “Great minds think alike.”

I love it when she rolls her eyes. It’s so cute. I continued, “The house staff seems to be gone, but the security guards are there, and so is Carl.”

I gave Kate a short briefing of my time with Bain Madox, including the tangential discussions about being wounded in the line of duty, and Madox’s odd obsession with bears. I said to her, “But maybe these topics were not tangential. Madox may have been speaking allegorically.”

“Sounds more like macho bullshit to me.”

“Right. That, too. More important, I put Mr. Bain Madox on official notice that he was a material witness in a suspected homicide.” I explained my bogus suspicions about one of his security guards being Harry’s killer. “So, now we have him in a tight spot.”

Kate reminded me, “Murdering a Federal agent is not a Federal crime.”

“Well, it should be.”

“But it’s not.” She informed me, “New York State has the jurisdiction. That means Major Schaeffer.” She asked, “Don’t you teach that in your class at John Jay College of Criminal Justice?”

“Yes, I
teach
it. I don’t practice it. Actually, I covered myself by using the word assault, which
is
a Federal crime.” I added, “Madox is not a lawyer. He’s a suspect.”

“But he
has
a lawyer.”

“Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

She looked a little exasperated with me, but conceded, “I guess that was a good move. Is that about the time he asked you to dinner?”

“Actually, it was.” I added, “He’ll have some of the information that I asked for tonight.”

“Yeah, right. Well, now you need to officially notify Major Schaeffer and Tom Walsh of what you did.”

“I will.”

“When?”

“Later.” I continued to fill in more of what Madox and I spoke about, but I didn’t mention that a moment had come when I considered a classically simple solution to a complex problem. I wanted to say to my wife and partner, “Just as Madox had solved his Harry Muller problem with a half ounce of lead, I could have resolved the entire Madox problem in less time than it took to pick the lint off the rug.” But I didn’t say that.

I did say, however, “Madox expressed his condolences about Harry, though he couldn’t remember Harry’s name.”

Kate looked at me.

I said, “Madox wanted to know if there was a fund he could contribute to.”

She kept looking at me, and I think she suspected that I’d thought about expedited justice, used now and then in cases of cop killers.

Kate said to me, “I called Harry’s girlfriend, Lori Bahnik.”

This took me by surprise, but I realized I should have done that by now. “That was nice of you.”

“It wasn’t an easy conversation, but I assured her we were doing everything possible to get to the bottom of this.”

I nodded.

“Lori said to say hello to you. She’s glad that it’s you on the case.”

“Did you tell her I wasn’t on the case any longer?”

“No, I did not.” Kate stared at me and said, “Last I heard, you and I were on the case.”

We made eye contact and exchanged brief smiles. I switched subjects. “Well, bottom line with Bain Madox is that he is now feeling pressed, and he may do something stupid, desperate, or clever.”

“I think he’s already done all three by inviting you to dinner.”


Us
, darling. And I think you’re right.”

“I
know
I’m right. So, why don’t you just play right into his hands and show up?
Or
, do something more clever like
don’t
show up.” She asked, “May I call Tom Walsh now?”

I ignored that and continued my briefing. “I also got a good look at Madox’s back lot from his second-story office window.” I informed her, “There’s a barracks there big enough to hold twenty or thirty men, but I imagine not more than half are on duty at any time. Plus, there’s a stone building with three chimneys belching smoke, and a diesel generator service truck parked outside.”

She nodded and said again, “It may be time to share this information. I’ll call Tom, you call Major Schaeffer.”

“All right. I’ll call Hank Schaeffer first, so we’ll have more things to chat about with Tom Walsh.”

I stood and went to the desk phone, and using my phone debit card, I called state police headquarters in Ray Brook.

Major Schaeffer was in for Detective Corey, and he asked me, “Where are you?”

I hit the Speaker button and replied, “I’m not sure, but I’m looking at a menu in French.”

Major Schaeffer wasn’t amused. “Did you get my message that your Hertz car was at The Point?”

“I did. Thank you.”

He informed me, “Your friend, Liam Griffith, is not happy with you.”

“Fuck him.”

“Should I pass that on?”

“I’ll do it myself. By the way, I went to the Custer Hill Club, and there was no visible stakeout there.”

“Well,” he replied, “they were there. I pulled them back to Route 56 because this black Jeep kept snooping around. I have another team on the logging road in case anyone comes in or out from the back roads.”

“Okay.” I inquired, “Anything new with your surveillance team?”

“No one has arrived at the Custer Hill Club, except you in a white Enterprise rental Hyundai, and also a diesel service truck.” He gave me the details of my arrival and departure, and asked me, “What the hell were you doing there?”

“I’ll get to that. Has the diesel service truck left yet?”

“Not as of five minutes ago. No one else has left the subject property, so I guess this guy Putyov is still there.” He asked me, “Did you see any sign of him there?”

“No, I didn’t.” I asked him, “Was I followed after I left the Custer Hill Club?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was called directly by my surveillance car, who told me it was an Enterprise rental, and the renter was a Mr. John Corey, and I told them you were on the job.”

“Okay.” So, if that was true, then the state police hadn’t seen the vehicle switch at Rudy’s gas station. If it wasn’t true, then I was driving around in a hot van. But that only mattered if I didn’t trust Major Schaeffer, and the jury was out on that. Bottom line, I really think I would have noticed if I’d been followed.

Major Schaeffer inquired again, “What were you doing there?”

“I was sizing up the suspect and collecting forensic evidence.”

“What kind of forensic evidence?”

“Hairs and carpet fibers.” I explained what I’d done.

Major Schaeffer listened, then asked, “Where is this evidence now?”

“In my possession.”

“When are you giving it to me?”

“Well, I think there’s a jurisdictional question that needs to be resolved first.”

“No, there isn’t. Murder is a state crime.”

I reminded him, “You haven’t classified it as a murder.”

There was silence as Major Schaeffer contemplated the consequences of his fence-straddling. Finally, he said, “I could arrest you for withholding evidence.”

“You could, if you could find me.”

“I can find you.”

“No, I’m really good at this.” I said, “I’ll think about what’s best for this investigation, and best for me and my partner.”

“Don’t think too long.” He asked me, “What did Madox have to say?”

“We talked about bears.” I informed Major Schaeffer, “I put Bain Madox on notice that he was a material witness in a possible homicide investigation.” I explained how I did that, and concluded, “Now, he needs to cooperate, voluntarily, or involuntarily, and that also puts some heat on him.”

Schaeffer replied, “Yeah. I understand how that works, Detective. Thank you.” He asked me, “When did murder in New York State become a Federal crime?”

“When did Harry Muller’s death become a murder?”

Clearly, Major Schaeffer was not happy with me or my methods, so he didn’t answer my question, but informed me, “Madox may now have to cooperate in the investigation, but you’ll never see him again without his lawyer present.”

I wondered if Madox’s lawyer was coming to dinner. On that subject, I decided not to tell Schaeffer about Madox inviting me to dinner until I was well on my way to Custer Hill. I mean, I needed him to know where I was, in case there was a problem. But I didn’t want him to know about it
too
early in case he or Griffith became part of the problem by arresting me.

He said, “Okay, I’ve done you some favors, and you’ve done me some favors. I think we’re even on favors.”

“Actually, I have a few more favors to ask of you.”

“Put them in writing.”

“And then I’ll owe you a favor.”

No reply. I think he was pissed. Nevertheless, I said, “Speaking of diesels, did you ever find out how big those diesel generators are at Custer Hill?”

“Why is that important?”

“I don’t know that it is. I’m sure it’s not. But I saw that building there—”

“Yeah. I saw it, too, when I was hunting there.”

I let a few seconds pass, then he said, “I had one of my men call Potsdam Diesel, but my guy got the information wrong, or their office person didn’t read the file right.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, my guy said they told him the generators put out two thousand kilowatts.” He paused, then said, “
Each
. Hell, that could power a small town. It must be twenty kilowatts—maybe two hundred, tops. Or maybe twenty thousand
watts
.”

“Is there a difference?”

“There is if you stick your dick in a light socket.” He dropped that subject and said to me, “Let me give you some advice.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not in business for yourself. This is a team effort. Rejoin the team.”

Kate raised her hand in a seconding motion.

I said to Major Schaeffer, “It’s a little late for that.”

“You and your wife should get over to headquarters
now
.”

It’s always nice to be invited home again, and it’s tempting, but I didn’t trust my family any longer, so I said, “I think you have all the Federal agents you need there.”

He offered, “I’ll meet you someplace that’ll make you feel . . . safer.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know where to meet us later.”

Before he could respond, I hung up and looked at Kate, who said, “John, I think we should go to—”

“End of discussion. New topic. Potsdam Diesel.” I picked up the phone and dialed Potsdam Diesel, whose phone number I recalled from their service truck.

A young lady answered, “Potsdam Diesel. This is Lu Ann. How can I help you?”

I hit the Speaker button. “Hi, Lu Ann. This is Joe, the caretaker at the Custer Hill Club.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I have Al here servicing the generators.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, but could you pull the sales and service files for me?”

“Hold on.”

The speaker started playing Muzak and I said to Kate, “I’m not current on watts—no pun intended—but Schaeffer wasn’t believing six thousand . . . what were they called? Megawatts?”

Kate replied, “Kilowatts. A thousand watts is a kilowatt. Six thousand kilowatts is six
million
watts. A lightbulb is usually seventy-five watts.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of—”

Lu Ann was back. “I have it. How can I help you?”

“Well, if I lost power and the generators kicked in, could I make toast and coffee in the morning?”

She laughed and said, “You could make toast and coffee for Potsdam.”

“Yeah? So, how many
kilowatts
do I have?”

“Okay, you have three Detroit brand, sixteen-cylinder diesel engines, each capable of driving its matching generator to two thousand kilowatts.”

Kate and I exchanged glances.

I said to Lu Ann, “No kidding? How old are these generators? Is it time to replace them?”

“No. They were installed in . . . 1984 . . . but they should last forever with service.”

“But how much is a new one?”

“Oh . . . I’m not sure, but the cost of these in 1984 was $245,000.”

“Each?”

“Yes, each. Today . . . well, a lot more.” She asked me, “Is there a problem with the service?”

“No. Al’s doing a great job. I can see him sweating from here. When is he going to be finished?”

“Well . . . we only have Al and Kevin . . . this was called in Saturday afternoon, and we’re real busy . . . You know you’re paying on an expedited basis?”

Kate and I again glanced at each other. I said to Lu Ann, “No problem. In fact, add a thousand dollars to Mr. Madox’s bill for Al and Kevin.”

“That’s very generous of you—”

“So, what do you think? Another hour?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to call them, or do you want to go talk to them?”

“You call them. Look, we’re having a big dinner party, so maybe they can come back another time.”

“When would you like to schedule that?”

“November thirty-first.”

“Okay . . . oh . . . I see here there’s only thirty days in—”

“I’ll call you on that. Meanwhile, give these guys a holler, and tell them to knock off. I’ll hold.”

“Hold on, please.”

The phone started playing “The Blue Danube Waltz” for some reason, and I said to Kate, “I should have done this an hour ago.”

“Better late than not at all.” She added, “Six
thousand
kilowatts.”

“Right. Why am I listening to The Blue Danube Waltz?”

“You’re on hold.”

“Do you want to dance—?”

Lu Ann came back on the line and said, “Well, I have good news. They’re finished, and they’re packing their tools.”

“Great.”
Shit.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Pray for world peace.”

“Okay . . . that’s nice.”

“Lu Ann, you have a good evening.”

“You, too, Joe.”

I hung up and said to Kate, “In the history of the world, this is the first time a service crew finished ahead of schedule.”

“Madox wasn’t going to let those guys leave anyway. So, if we weren’t convinced that we were looking at an ELF antenna, that information should convince us.”

BOOK: Wild Fire
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