“I gather Hodges wasn’t the most popular man in town,” Calhoun said.
Robertson gave a short, caustic laugh.
“Much action on the case?” Calhoun asked casually, blowing smoke up toward the ceiling.
“Nah,” Robertson said. “We spun our wheels a bit back when Hodges disappeared, but it was mostly going through the motions. Nobody cared much, not even his wife. Practically ex-wife. She’d just about moved back to Boston even before Hodges disappeared.”
“What about now?” Calhoun asked. “The Boston Globe said the state police were investigating.”
“They were just going through the motions, too,” Robertson said. “The medical examiner called the state’s attorney. State’s attorney sent some junior assistant to check it out. This assistant called in the state police who then sent some crime-scene investigators to the site. But after that a state police lieutenant called me. I told him it wasn’t worth his time and that we’d handle it. And as you know better than most people, the state police take their cue from us local guys on a case of this sort unless there’s pressure from someplace like the state attorney’s office or from some politician. Hell, the state police have more pressing cases to attend to. Same with us. Besides, it’s been eight months. The trail’s stone cold.”
“What are you guys working on these days?” Calhoun asked.
“We’ve had a series of rapes and attacks up in the hospital parking lot,” Robertson said.
“Any luck snagging the perpetrator?” Calhoun asked.
“Not yet,” Robertson said.
After leaving the police station, Calhoun wandered down Main Street and stopped in the local bookstore. The proprietor, Jane Weincoop, had been a friend of Calhoun’s wife. Calhoun’s wife had been a big reader, especially the last year of her life when she’d been confined to bed.
Jane took Calhoun into her office, which was only a tiny desk stuck in the corner of the stock room. Calhoun said he was just passing through and after a bit of chitchat and catching up, he managed to steer the conversation to Dennis Hodges.
“The discovery of his body was certainly news in Bartlet,” Jane admitted.
“I understand he wasn’t a popular man,” Calhoun said. “Who all had it in for him?”
Jane gave Calhoun a look. “Is this a professional or personal visit?” she asked with a wry smile.
“Just curiosity,” Calhoun said with a wink. “But I’d still appreciate it if you’d keep my question to yourself.”
Half an hour later Calhoun wandered back out into the fading afternoon sunlight clutching a list of over twenty people who had disliked Hodges. The list included the president of the bank, the owner of the Mobil station near the interstate, the town’s retarded handyman, the chief of police whom Calhoun already knew about, a handful of merchants and store owners, and a half dozen doctors.
Calhoun was surprised by the length of the list but not unhappy. After all, the longer the list, the more billable hours he’d be logging in.
Continuing his trek up Main Street, Calhoun stopped into Harrison’s Pharmacy. The pharmacist, Harley Strombell, was the brother of one of Calhoun’s fellow troopers, Wendell Strombell.
Harley wasn’t fooled any more than Jane had been about the nature of Calhoun’s inquiries, but he promised to be discreet. He even added to Calhoun’s list by offering his own name as well as those of Ned Banks, the owner of the New England Coat Hanger Company, Harold Traynor, and Helen Beaton, the new hospital administrator.
“Why did you dislike the man?” Calhoun asked.
“It was a personal thing,” Harley said. “Hodges lacked even the rudimentary social graces.” Harley explained that he’d had a small branch pharmacy up at the hospital until one day without explanation or warning, Hodges just kicked him out.
“I mean it was natural for the expanding hospital to have its own outpatient pharmacy,” Harley said. “I understood that. But it was handled very badly, thanks to Dennis Hodges.”
Calhoun left the pharmacy wondering how long his list would get before he could start whittling it down to serious suspects. He had close to twenty-five names and there were still a few more contacts in Bartlet he could check out before he considered the list complete.