Darkness First (25 page)

8:53
A.M.
, Monday, August 24, 2009

Machias, Maine

M
aggie pressed herself against the wall next to the front door. Slid an arm across and opened the deadbolt. Called for Ganzer to come in.

The door swung open. Ganzer walked by her before realizing she was behind him. He stopped. ‘Now,' said Maggie, ‘if you don't mind, please turn around very slowly.'

Ganzer turned. Saw Maggie holding her Glock in a two-handed stance and aiming it at the middle of his body mass.

‘Damn,' he said. ‘Every time I see one of you Savages, you're pointing a gun at me.'

‘What do you want, Emmett?'

‘After your outburst up in Eastport, I thought it was time you and I had a little chat. Your old man anywhere around?'

‘Yeah,' Maggie lied, figuring it wouldn't hurt if Ganzer thought she had reinforcements. ‘He's upstairs taking a nap.'

‘Hey, Savage!' Ganzer called out. ‘Sheriff John Savage? You in the house?'

Ganzer cocked his head and put a hand to one ear, in a stage pantomime of listening for a response. ‘Nah, didn't think so. Only one car in the driveway. Yours.'

‘Fine. I was telling a lie. You caught me. Now what do you want, Emmett?'

There was a sound from the kitchen. The dog door opening and closing. Ganzer instantly alert, slid his hand to his own weapon. Polly Four trotted into the hallway and sat, her rear end resting, as usual, on Maggie's foot. Maggie shifted the Glock to one hand and stroked the dog's ear.

‘Hey, Harlan,' Ganzer shouted again, even louder this time. ‘How about you? You here?' There was still no answer from upstairs. Ganzer smiled. ‘Nope. No killers in residence. Guess, it's just you, me and the pooch.'

‘One more time. What do you want?'

‘Nothing that needs gun pointing. I just want us to sit down and talk. Like civilized grownups.'

She waved him into the living room with the Glock. Pointed it at the couch, where at this hour of the morning the sun would be shining in his eyes. May as well make what use she could of home field advantage. She took one of the wingchairs. ‘Okay, Ganzer,' she said, using his name for the sake of the recording device in her pocket. ‘You wanted to talk, so talk.'

‘First off, why don't you put the artillery away. I promise not to shoot you if you promise not to shoot me.'

Maggie nodded. ‘Fair enough.' She slid the gun back into its holster. ‘No guns. No shooting. Now what do you want?'

‘First thing I want is for you to stop with these wild-ass accusations.'

‘I don't think they're so wild-ass.'

‘Oh, for Christ's sake, Savage, you don't have even a sliver of evidence I was in any way involved in any of these murders. Or with the drugs. Or with Tabitha Stoddard's disappearance. No physical evidence. No circumstantial evidence. No witnesses. No motive. No nothing.'

‘Were you involved?'

‘No, I was not involved and you've got nothing that says I was.'

‘If you'll spit in a cup for me maybe we could remedy that situation.'

Ganzer snorted. ‘Jesus, Savage, you really think I might be the father of Stoddard's kid? Trust me if I could've been screwing someone who looked like Tiff Stoddard, I would have in a heartbeat. The girl was gorgeous. Course, I'm only judging from her pictures. But I never laid eyes on her until after she was dead, much less had sex with her. You can believe me or not believe me, but that's the truth.'

Maggie got up and went to the kitchen and came back with a small Mason jar with a lid. She handed it to Ganzer. ‘So spit.'

‘Okay.' He spat in the jar, screwed the lid on tight. ‘There ain't nothing there, Savage,' he said handing it back to her. ‘So go have fun with it.'

Maggie didn't say anything. Just took the jar. She'd have one of Savage's deputies drive it down to Augusta later in the morning.

‘Okay,' said Maggie. ‘Let's say you're not involved. Let's say I'm wrong. Tell me what really happened when you went out to Harlan's place yesterday. What you said before – that he just walked out of the house and whacked you with a rifle butt – that wasn't true. was it?'

‘No. It wasn't. Like you. I was telling a lie.'

‘So what really did happen?'

‘Okay. Yesterday, in the detectives' meeting, Carroll told us what you told him. That your brother and Stoddard were getting it on. He asked me to go up to Whiting and bring Harlan in and interview him about Stoddard's murder. So after the meeting I drive up there. When I get out of the car he's standing there in his underwear, pointing a rifle at me. I identify myself as a police officer and ask him to put the gun away. He doesn't argue. Goes inside and comes out without the rifle and with some clothes on. Including that Killers t-shirt. He asks me what I want to talk to him about. I tell him it's about Tiff Stoddard.'

‘And what did he say to that?'

‘Told me he never heard of anyone named Tiff Stoddard. I don't know about you, Savage, but when a suspect lies to me for no obvious reason I get suspicious. I start thinking maybe he's more than a possible suspect who needs to be checked out. I start thinking maybe he really did kill Stoddard. That maybe he's up to his ears in the drug thing and that he killed Sean's wife and Laura Blakemore as well.

‘I tell him I think that maybe he's not telling the truth about not knowing Tiff Stoddard. Especially when the t-shirt he's wearing is exactly like the one she had on when the bad guy cut her up and left her lying in the dirt to bleed out and die.'

‘What did he say to that?'

‘Nothing right off. Just stands there looking at me for a minute like he didn't hear what I said. Then he gets this weird look on his face. A crazy look, if you want to know the truth. Makes me kind of nervous.'

‘You were scared?'

‘You're damn right I was scared. Here's this tough ex-marine, maybe not as big as me but pretty damn close, and he's got this expression on his face like he wants to do to me what he did to Stoddard.'

‘What you
think
he did to Stoddard.'

‘All right, what I think he did. But I'll tell you at that point, even before the evidence turned up, I was already pretty sure he was the one. That he'd already killed three people and maybe more. Not even counting those two kids in Canada.'

‘So what did you do?'

‘I tell him I want him to come to Machias with me. Talk to me about Tiff Stoddard. He snaps out of his trance and tells me to go fuck myself and starts to walk away. So I did exactly what you would've done in the same situation. I drew my piece, told him to lie flat on the ground. He asks me if I'm going to shoot him and I tell him I am if he doesn't do what I'm telling him to do.'

‘So then what happened?'

‘Next thing I know he's on me. I'll say one thing, sonofabitch is fast. Kicks the gun out of my hand. Puts me on the ground with a judo move. Kicks me in the face and puts me out. I wake up an hour later, with a broken nose and a badly sprained wrist, and your brother's gone. He destroyed my cell phone and the radio in the car and he's slashed my tires. So I get up and walk a mile and a half to the nearest house and call it in.'

‘Why are you telling me all this?'

‘I don't know. Maybe because he didn't kill me when he could have and I don't know why. You said that yesterday but I was too pissed off to hear you. But I've been thinking about it ever since and I wanted to get it off my chest.'

‘That mean you don't think he's guilty?'

‘No. It means I think he may have some mental problems so there's no consistency to what he does. But I'm not even sure about that so I need to talk to him about it.'

‘You'll have to find him first.'

‘That's right. I'll have to find him first.'

‘Ahh, now I see why you're here. Well, sorry to break it to you, Emmett, but I have no idea where he is. It's been nearly twenty-four hours. He could be halfway to hell and gone by now.'

‘Possible, but unlikely. We found his truck less than a mile from his house. I think he's on foot.'

‘Maybe he borrowed a vehicle or stole one.'

‘Maybe, but I don't think so. We interviewed every known contact and nobody admits to lending him a car or even seeing him. And nothing's been reported stolen in the last twenty-four hours. I think he's still in the area. I think he's hiding out somewhere with Tabitha Stoddard. Assuming he hasn't killed her yet.'

Maggie looked hard at Ganzer and waited for the explanation.

‘This morning, after you left, our ERT people checked the area. A few hundred yards behind the Stoddard house, among all the boot prints from all the searchers who were tramping around, they found a few that are a perfect match for the boot prints we found heading away from the spot where Harlan hid his truck.'

‘A lot of guys wear the same kind of boots. Same brand. Same size.'

‘Maybe so. Except for one thing.'

Maggie waited to hear what the one thing was.

‘One of our troopers reported seeing a man who fits Harlan's description walking hand in hand with a girl who fits Tabitha's.'

‘Why didn't the trooper stop them?'

‘Good question. Says he knew we were looking for Harlan but hadn't heard about Tabitha yet. He reported the sighting as soon as he did.'

‘Could have been any father and daughter he saw.'

‘I don't think so. Not from the descriptions. Big, strong-looking guy carrying a backpack and what looked like a hunting rifle. Chubby little girl with light-brown hair and glasses. I think your brother killed the parents and kidnapped the kid.'

‘Why?'

‘I don't know why. Maybe he likes doing it with little girls.'

‘I won't dignify that with a response.'

‘Wouldn't be the first guy who likes it with both big and little.'

‘If he kidnapped her, why's she holding his hand?'

‘Maybe he threatened to hurt her if she didn't. Anyway, I think they're both still somewhere in the area. Somewhere on Moose Island. We've got dogs looking for him but so far no luck. Dogs aren't perfect. But sooner or later he's going to need some help and I think the person he's most likely to contact is you. His loyal and loving big sister.'

‘You're an asshole, Ganzer. Harlan did not kill Tiff Stoddard. Or her parents. Or any of the others.'

‘You still think I did?'

‘Even if the DNA's not a match, I still think it's possible.'

‘Your devotion to your brother's innocence is touching. However, if he contacts you, it's your obligation to report it. If you don't, not only will you never work as a police officer again, we'll also issue a warrant for your arrest on charges of Hindering Apprehension. Up to ten years in the state prison. And, frankly, nothing would make me happier than to slap the cuffs on you myself. Think about it, Savage.'

‘Get out of here, Ganzer. Get your fat ass out of my house right now and don't come back.'

‘Or what? You'll take out your gun again and shoot me?'

‘Nah,' said McCabe walking into the living room from the hallway, ‘she's not gonna shoot you, Ganzer. On the other hand, if I ever hear you threaten her again, even a tiny bit, I'm not sure I can say the same about myself.'

Ganzer whirled around in surprise. ‘Who the hell are you?'

McCabe decided not to tell Ganzer who he was. Decided to let him wonder about it. ‘Name's Bond,' he said after a few seconds. ‘James Bond. Now, I suggest you do what the lady asked and get your ass out of her house.'

Ganzer left.

‘Bond? James Bond?' Maggie said after he was gone.

McCabe shrugged. ‘One of the great movie lines of all time. Always wanted to use it. Never had a chance.'

Maggie shook her head. ‘You know, sometimes I think you really are twelve years old. Anyway, thanks for stopping by, Mr Bond. I appreciate it.'

‘Now will you please tell me what that was all about?'

‘How much did you hear?'

‘I came in at the part where he was threatening you with jail time if you didn't rat out your brother. Did I miss much?'

‘A lot, but I don't want to talk about it here. You bring any running gear?'

‘Matter of fact I did.'

‘Good. I've got to get some exercise or I'll explode. I'll tell you all about it while we run.'

M
aggie rummaged in her room upstairs until she found some old Nikes, a pair of shorts with pockets, a t-shirt and a U Maine Black Bears sweatshirt. She hadn't worn any of this stuff since her senior year in Orono and was pleased that, after fourteen years, everything still fit. McCabe waited while she changed, and then they drove in convoy over to the Inn at Schopee Farm, where he was staying. She waited while he changed.

From the Inn, they walked down to the hiking and biking trail that runs behind the place, along the river. They dutifully did a few stretches and set off at a leisurely pace, heading downriver toward the sea.

‘You know, McCabe, I love this place,' Maggie said. ‘This county. Poor as it is, I've always felt there was something very special about it. I know that's part of the reason Em came back. She felt it was where she belonged. I sometimes do too. Did you know Washington County is as far east as you can go and still be in the US?'

‘Yeah, I've read that.'

‘The sun rises here before it comes up anywhere else in America. My father told me that when I was about five and I thought it was about the coolest thing I'd ever heard. I didn't catch on to the flip side till a whole lot later.'

‘The flip side?'

‘Yeah, you know,' Maggie smiled. ‘In Washington County, we get the darkness first as well.'

‘Do you ever think you'd like to come back here to live? Like Emily did.'

‘I'm occasionally tempted. My father would love it. He's always asking if he can swear me in as a deputy. Hopes I'll succeed him some day as Sheriff. But I don't think so. I like working in the city. For what it's worth, I also like working with you.'

‘I like working with you too.'

Maggie glanced over to him. ‘I'm glad but I have a question about that.'

‘Shoot.'

‘What was that kiss about last night?'

‘Don't you know?'

‘I want to hear it from you.'

‘Okay. It was about something I wish could happen but can't. At least not now.'

‘Because of Kyra?'

‘Yes. Because of Kyra. But also because of me. I'm not very good at cheating. I lived through too much of that, too many lies, too much deception, when I was married to Sandy. And so did Casey. My daughter hated her mother for what she did back then. And in a lot of ways she still hates her. I love Casey far too much to ever risk her feeling that way about me. So, for the time being at least, as you've noted more than once, I'm taken. If that ever stops being the case, I can promise you'll be the first to know. In the meantime, at least part of me hopes you find somebody else, somebody who's right for you.'

‘And the other part?'

McCabe smiled. ‘The other part would be jealous as hell.'

They jogged on at an easy clip for a couple of miles, watching the morning sun reflect off the river as it widened before emptying into Machias Bay.

‘If you look over there,' said Maggie, breaking the silence, ‘above the riverbank, there are some ancient petroglyphs carved into the stone thousands of years ago by the Passamaquoddy. Still perfectly visible. A whole lot more of them down in Machiasport at a place called Picture Rocks. If we had time I'd love taking you down there and showing them to you.'

‘If we had time I'd like to see them.'

They ran on in silence for another few minutes. ‘Okay,' said McCabe, ‘we've gone three miles now and you haven't told me word one about what we're supposed to be talking about. Why Ganzer was at your house. Aside from making idle threats, I mean.'

‘I'm not sure the threats really matter. I'm beginning to wonder if Ganzer's really our guy.'

‘That's not the song you were singing last night.'

‘No, it's not. Last night I was at least halfway convinced Ganzer
was
Conor Riordan.'

‘So what changed?'

‘Couple of things. Starting with a double murder in Eastport last night. Actually early this morning.'

McCabe didn't say anything.

‘Tiff Stoddard's parents. Shot to death. Disguised as a murder-suicide.'

McCabe's eyes narrowed but he still didn't say anything.

‘Their youngest daughter Tabitha is missing. She could be dead as well. But Ganzer claims Harlan's got her.'

‘Keep going.'

Maggie started with the 2:30
A.M.
call from Tabitha and the sudden hang-up. Told him the rest of it as well. Pike and Donelda shot to death in the living room. Electra tranquilized on the kitchen floor. The semi-literate suicide note. Her own search for Tabitha and, finally, her subsequent visit to the
Katie Louise
and the discovery of Luke Haskell's disappearance.

‘After I realized it was Tabitha on the phone I sent the locals over as quick as I could but they got there too late. The parents were already dead. Tabitha already gone. Basically an entire family wiped out.'

‘You still haven't told me what changed your mind on Ganzer.'

‘For one thing, unless Emmett's one hell of an actor, he had no idea Stoddard's dog was dangerous. Or why I wanted to draw its blood. Or have it tested. Then later, when I flat out accused him of killing Tiff and her parents to see if I could provoke a reaction, his denials rang true. I believed him this morning when he said he didn't do it.'

‘You have anything a little more tangible?'

‘Yeah. Emmett had no objection to spitting in a cup for me.' Maggie stopped and took the drawing from her back pocket and handed it to McCabe. ‘And also there's this.'

McCabe unfolded the sheet of newsprint.

‘I found it in the Stoddards' attic last night. Didn't make anything of it first. Thought it was just a generic kid's drawing.'

‘Tabitha's the artist?'

‘Yeah.'

‘ “Like a hog in a slaughterhouse”? What's the significance?'

‘Don't worry about that. Take a look at the guy.'

‘Anyone we know?'

‘Not the features, no. It's basically a cartoon. But take a look at the black curls she put on his head. The light blue circles she stuck in for eyes. Remind you of anyone?'

McCabe had only seen Sean Carroll once. From the rear. But he remembered the curly hair. ‘You think it's Carroll?'

‘I don't know. Dark curls. Blue eyes. Could be a coincidence. Or not. His wife was one of the first victims. On the other hand, you always tell me how good my radar is, but if this guy is the killer, I missed it big time. I instinctively liked the guy.'

‘Your radar may be right. Carlin told me Carroll had a rock-solid alibi for the night his wife was killed.'

‘Yeah. That's what you said last night. But I was a little distracted at the time so maybe you could take me through it again.'

They stopped running and sat along the riverbank, watching muddy water flow past.

‘After Liz Carroll was murdered,' said McCabe, ‘Ganzer told investigators that Sean's original alibi, the one about being on a stakeout with Ganzer, was bullshit. Carroll wasn't there. The investigators confronted Carroll with what Ganzer had said. Carroll responded by saying that yes, in fact, he had been lying. He said he had hoped Ganzer, who worked directly for him, would back him up. But since Ganzer hadn't, Sean was forced to tell investigators the truth – that he had spent the night in the bed of another woman. Naturally they asked who the woman was. He said he felt honor-bound not to reveal her identity.'

‘How noble. Were they ever able to confirm his story?'

‘Yes. The woman stepped forward and said yes, Sean had been in her bed.'

‘And they believed her.'

‘Oh, yeah. They believed her. Absolutely.'

‘Why?'

‘The woman was Susan Marsh.'

‘
Our
Susan Marsh?'

‘That's right, our Susan Marsh.'

‘Jesus. Really?'

‘Jesus. Really. Exactly what I said when Tracy told me the name.'

‘Think Marsh'll talk to us?'

McCabe shrugged. ‘Only one way to find out.'

He pulled his cell phone from a fanny pack, checked to make sure he had a signal and punched in a number he knew by heart. It wasn't that he called Susan Marsh all that often. It was just that he had this weird memory thing going. Remembered every number he'd ever called. Just about everything else too. Useful in his line of work.

‘Attorney General's office,' a voice on the other end announced.

‘Susan Marsh, please.'

‘May I tell her who's calling?'

‘Detective Sergeant Michael McCabe.'

‘Thank you. I'll see if she's in.'

A few seconds later a familiar female voice said, ‘Hello, McCabe. Long time no talk. What can I do for you?'

‘Hoped you could spare me and my partner a little time today.'

‘What's it about?'

‘Some evidence in a murder case I'd like your opinion on.'

‘The woman beaten to death in Portland? What was her name? Mary Farrier?'

‘No. Another one.'

‘Really? Didn't know you had any other murders down there lately.'

McCabe didn't elaborate. ‘All we need's a half hour or so.'

‘Today's totally jammed. I'm due in court in ten minutes. But if you like, you can stop by the office at the end of the day, say five o'clock?'

‘Five's good. But this one's a little sensitive and I'd rather not run into any of your compadres. Why don't we meet down in Capitol Park? Say, on the Union Street side? We could walk and talk at the same time.'

‘What's this about, McCabe?' This time she sounded suspicious.

‘I'd rather discuss it in person.'

‘Very well. But you're making me very curious.'

‘See you at five, Susan.' He hit the off button. ‘Okay. Done and done.'

‘Think she'll mind me being there?'

‘Tough shit if she does. In fact, you should do the talking. This is your case.'