“Hey, little man,” Penny said, coming forward to greet the boy. “You got any cool stuff to show me?”
She guided him back down the hallway, talking at him a mile a minute, Billy staring up at her like a deer caught in the headlights. Findo Gask hoped she would behave herself.
“Why don’t we sit down, Mr. Spence,” he suggested.
He didn’t bother removing his coat. He didn’t bother putting down the book. Larry Spence wasn’t seeing either one. He wasn’t even seeing Findo Gask the way he appeared. Gask had clouded his vision the moment he opened the door, leaving him only vaguely aware of what the man he was talking to looked like. The trick wouldn’t work with someone like Nest Freemark, but Larry Spence was a different matter. Already beset by doubts and confusion, he would probably stay that way until Findo Gask was done with him.
They moved over to a pair of worn easy chairs and seated themselves. Sunlight filtered, sharp-edged, through cracks in the drawn blinds, and Matchbox cars lay overturned on the carpet like miniature accidents.
“Mr. Spence, as a law enforcement officer yourself, you are undoubtedly familiar with the work we do,” Findo Gask opened the conversation. “I’m here in Hopewell because of my work, and I need your help. But I don’t want anyone else to know about this, not even your superiors. Usually, we try to work openly with the local law enforcement agencies, but in this case that isn’t possible. At least, not yet. That’s why I’ve come to your house rather than approach you at your office. No one but you even knows we are here.”
He paused. “I understand you are acquainted with a young woman named Nest Freemark.”
Larry Spence looked startled. “Nest? Sure, but I don’t think she would ever—”
“Please, Mr. Spence, don’t jump to conclusions,” Gask interrupted smoothly, cutting him short. “Just let me finish. The bureau’s interest in Miss Freemark is only peripheral in this matter. Our real interest is in a man named John Ross.”
Spence was still holding the dish towel, twisting the fabric between his big hands nervously. He saw what he was doing and set the towel aside. He cleared his throat. “I never heard of anyone named John Ross.”
Findo Gask nodded. “I didn’t think you had. But Nest Freemark knows him quite well. Their friendship was formed some years ago when she was still a little girl and highly impressionable. He was an older man, good looking in a rugged sort of way, and very attentive toward her. He was a friend of her dead mother, and Nest was eager to make the connection with him for that reason if for no other. I suspect that she had quite a crush on him. She formed a strong attachment to him in any case, and she still thinks of him as her close friend.”
Gask chose his words carefully, working on the assumption that Larry Spence already felt possessive about Nest and would not welcome the idea of a rival, particularly one to whom she was attracted.
“John Ross is not the man Miss Freemark thinks he is, Mr. Spence,” he continued earnestly. “He is a very dangerous criminal. She believes him to be her knight in shining armor, the man she knew fifteen years ago, the handsome, older man who paid so much attention to a young, insecure girl. She has deceived herself, and she will not be quick to change her thinking.”
He was laying it on a bit thick, but when dealing with a man as enamored of a woman as Larry Spence was of Nest Freemark, he could get away with it.
“What’s he done?” Spence demanded, stiffening in his seat, ready to charge out and do battle with his duplicitous, unsavory rival. Gask smiled inwardly.
“I’d prefer not to discuss that aspect of the case with you, Mr. Spence.” Let him use his imagination, Gask thought. “What should be of concern to you, as it is to us, is not so much what he’s done elsewhere, but what he may do once he comes here.”
“He’s coming to Hopewell?” Spence swallowed. “So you think he’ll look up Nest?”