and the thump and screech of tyres on tarmac woke me up.
Then the reverse thrust screamed and the brakes jerked me
forward against my belt. It was first light outside. The dawn
looked brown, like it often did there. A voice on the PA told us
it was seven o’clock in the morning in California. We had been
heading west for two solid days and each twenty-four-hour
period was averaging more like twenty-eight. I had slept for a
while and I didn’t feel tired. But I still felt hungry.
We shuffled off the plane and walked down to the baggage
claim. That was where drivers met people. I scanned around.
Saw that Calvin Franz hadn’t sent anyone. He had come himself
instead. I was happy about that. He was a welcome sight. I felt
like we were going to be in good hands.
‘I’ve got news for you,’ he said.
I introduced him to Summer. He shook her hand and took
her bag and carried it. I guessed it was partly a courtly gesture
and partly his way of hustling us out to his Humvee a little bit
faster. It was parked there in the no-waiting zone. But the cops
were staying well away from it. Camouflaged black-and-green
Humvees tend to have that effect. We all piled in. I let Summer
ride in front. Partly a courtly gesture of my own, and partly
because I wanted to sprawl in the back. I was cramped from the
plane.
371
‘They found the Grand Marquis,’ Franz said.
He gunned the big turbo-diesel and moved off the kerb.
Irwin was just north of Barstow, which was about thirty miles
away across the breadth of the city. I figured it would take
him about an hour to get us there through the morning traffic. I
saw Summer watching how he drove. Professional appraisal in
her eyes. It would probably have taken her about thirty-five
minutes.
‘It was at Andrews,’ Franz said. ‘Dumped there on the fifth.’
‘When Marshall was recalled to Germany,’ I said.
Franz nodded at the wheel. ‘That’s what their gate log says.
Parked by Marshall with a Transportation Corps reference on
the docket. Our guys trailered it to the FBI. Faster that way.
They had to call in a few favours. The Bureau worked on it all
night. Reluctantly at first, but then they got interested in a big
hurry. It seems to be tied in with a case they’re working.’
‘Brubaker,’ I said.
He nodded again. ‘The trunk mat had parts of Brubaker on it.
Blood and brain matter, to be specific. It had been scrubbed
with a paper towel, but not well enough.’
‘Anything else?’ I said.
‘Lots of things. There was blood from a different source, just
trace evidence of a transfer smear, maybe from a jacket sleeve
or a knife blade.’
‘Carbone’s,’ I said. ‘From when Marshall was riding in the
trunk afterwards. Did they find a knife?’
‘No,’ Franz said. ‘But Marshall’s prints are all over the inside
of the trunk.’
‘They would be,’ I said. ‘He spent several hours in there.’
‘There was a single dog tag under the mat,’ Franz said. ‘Like
the chain had been broken and one of them had slipped off and
gotten away.’
‘Carbone’s?’ I said.
‘None other.’
‘Amateur hour,’ I said. ‘Anything else?’
‘Mostly normal stuff. It was an untidy car. Lots of hair and
fibre, fast-food wrappers, soda cans, stuff like that.’
‘Any yogurt pots?’
‘One,’ Franz said. ‘In the trunk.’
372
‘Strawberry or raspberry?’
‘Strawberry. Marshall’s prints on the foil tab. Seems like he
had a snack.’
‘He opened it,’ I said. ‘But he didn’t eat it.’
‘There was an empty envelope,’ Franz said. ‘Addressed to
Kramer at XII Corps in Germany. Airmail, postmarked a year
ago. No return address. Like a photo mailer, but it didn’t have
anything in it.’
I said nothing. He was looking at me in the mirror.
‘Is any of this good news?’ he said.
I smiled. ‘It just moved us up from speculative to circumstantial.’
‘A giant leap for mankind,’ he said.
Then I stopped smiling and looked away. I started thinking
about Carbone, and Brubaker, and Mrs Kramer. And Mrs