The Company She Kept (36 page)
Read The Company She Kept Online
Authors: Archer Mayor
“Still,” Lester persisted. “Beating her brains in and carving on her chest? That is so over the top, especially for such a small amount of money.”
Willy's familiarity with the darker shades of humanity prompted him to say, “We know diddly about this woman or what made her tick.”
Joe took advantage of the observation to comment, “Which means we need to bust our butts tomorrow, turn all this theorizing into solid evidence. In other words, search warrants, taped interviews, an expansion on Sammie's outstanding homeworkâthe works. Includingâlast but not leastâan arrest warrant for Alice Drim.”
He pointed to the quietly sleeping Emma. “In the meantime, go home, get some sleep, and I'll see you here tomorrow morning. Outstanding jobâeveryone.”
“Chicken ain't hatched yet, boss,” Willy said predictably, picking up his daughter.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
It had rained the night before Joe and his team met up in Montpelier two days later. In the dawn sun of a chilly Sunday, the entire town glittered under a thin sheen of ice, lending a paradoxical sparkle to the reason they were assembled.
Joining them were the inseparable Parker Murray and Perry Craver, several tactical members of the state policeâas usual outfitted in combat gearâand the city's police chief. They were grouped around a VSP command vehicle, a block-and-a-half from Alice Drim's address. The hour had been chosen from long experienceâit was usually safer to approach someone's residence when they were still in bed, or at least groggy from sleep.
The circumstances, however, were not ideal, though picturesque.
“Fuckin' ice,” as Willy put it succinctly, sliding the toe of his boot across the slippery pavement. “She better not make a run for it.”
The idea, of course, was to prevent just that, not only by choosing the early hour, but by surrounding Drim's apartment building and closing off all possible escape routes.
Driving the point home, the tactical team's commander announced, “We do this right, we do it fast, and we don't screw up. Everyone clear?”
There was a small chorus of affirmative grunts, followed by his ordering, “Okayâeveryone in position. Radio when you're set.”
The group divided according to the plan set up the night before. Joe and Sammie tailed the commander as he led the heavily armed entry team quietly and gingerly down the block, up the building's ice-slick wooden steps, and into the front lobby.
The building was yet another old New England triple-decker, this one dating back to Montpelier's iron industry and railroading heyday, and equipped with the usual zigzagging exterior staircase across the back wall. Improbably, on the third floor, where Drim had her apartment, some fresh wash was hanging, frozen solid, from a line strung between two uprights.
The VSP commander keyed his mic, announced his location in a whisper, and waited for each team to respond. He then nodded to those around him. “All set?”
Everyone nodded and the small, silent group picked its way stealthily up the interior staircase, painfully aware of how loud so many boots could be.
It took several minutes to reach the top, by which time everyone was bathed in sweat from the aggressive central heating, the body armor and heavy clothing, and the tension of anticipating what might happen next.
The commander and two of his people positioned themselves to either side of Drim's door and paused there, listening for anything on the other side.
Using his throat mic, with which they were all equipped, the commander asked barely audibly, “All teams in place?”
Over everyone's earpieces the responses were affirmative.
The commander stretched out his hand and prepared to knock.
“We got a runnerâout the rear balcony,” came over the radio from outside.
“Is it our suspect?”
“Affirmative. But now she's staying put.”
“She must've seen the exterior team,” he muttered, nodding to two of his men. “Break it down,” he ordered.
The battering ram that one of them had slung across his back came into play in one smooth movement, smashed into the door's lock, and blew the door back.
The tac team poured in, shouting and spreading out, leaving Joe and Sam in the hallway. The apartment was small, snug, and now getting cold because of the wide-open door leading onto the rear balcony. Fighting instinct, both VBI officers remained where they were, waiting for the entry team to declare the apartment safe, before they ran to the far door and looked out.
Standing at the far end of the balconyâwhere the exterior stairs led down to the next levelâwas Alice Drim, her back against the railing. She'd been staring at the police already climbing toward her, when she whipped around at Joe and Sammie's appearance.
“Alice,” Joe ordered. “Do not move.”
“Stay away,” she shot back, clutching the post beside her. “None of you should be here.”
“You don't have any choice, Alice,” Joe continued, taking a couple of steps in her direction. Behind him, he heard Sam order the others to stand their ground.
Alice looked around frantically, as if hoping for a set of wings or a fireman's pole to help her out.
“Don't come any closer, Joe.”
“Or what?” Joe replied, hoping to make her think rationally. “You're surrounded, Alice, and we know what happened.”
Without warning, she suddenly swung up onto the railing behind her, using the post as a fulcrum, but as her feet touched the rail's icy surface, they went out from under her, forcing her to hang on for her life.
Joe started running to help, but she screamed, “I'll let go, Joe. I swear I will. Stop.”
He stopped fifteen feet away. “Alice, we know why you did what you did. We know about your brother and how desperate you were to help him. Where's he going to be if you let go? Please don't do this.”
“I killed somebody,” she said breathlessly, struggling to maintain her grip. “You're not going to make that go away.”
“There are mitigating circumstances,” he argued. “No one has any idea how this might turn out.”
She seemed to consider it, even as her strength was visibly ebbing.
“Alice,” he pleaded. “Please, before it's too late. You've been smart up to now. Give yourself time to think. Climb back up.” He extended a hand. “Let me help.”
She seemed to finally hear him. She swung her leg up and heaved with both arms, as if accepting his offer. But it wasn't enough. Her foot slipped on the ice again, one hand shot out toward the clothesline beside her, breaking it with a loud snap, andâafter a half-frozen moment in which her eyes, wide with surprise, locked onto hisâshe vanished without a sound.
A second later, there was a thud and the balcony vibrated.
Over his earpiece, Joe heard, “Holy Jesus Christ.”
He and Sam ran to the end of the balcony and peered over. Alice hadn't reached the bottom. In a freakish twist of chance, she'd become entangled in the falling clothesline, which had looped around her neck and had her swinging twenty feet off the ground.
“Damn,” Sam said softly.
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ARCHER MAYOR
, in addition to writing the
New York Times
bestselling Joe Gunther series, is a detective for the Windham County Sheriff's department, a death investigator, the state medical examiner, and has twenty-five years of experience as a firefighter/EMT. He lives near Brattleboro, Vermont. You can sign up for email updates
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ALSO BY
ARCHER MAYOR
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Open Season
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Contents
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.