Fiske took a bite of sandwich and swallowed it down with some coffee. “You mentioned some things that happened at the party.”
“I had a run-in with Justice Knight.” She recounted the story to Fiske. He then shared his own experience with Knight.
“A hard woman to figure out,” Fiske remarked.
“Anything else?”
“McKenna asked me if I had an alibi for the time my brother was murdered.”
“Are you serious?”
“I don’t have an alibi, Sara.”
“John, it’s not like anyone believes that you could have murdered your own brother. And how would that tie in to Steven’s death?”
“If the two are connected.”
“So did McKenna have a theory as to what your motive might be?”
Fiske put his coffee down. It might be good to get somebody else’s view, he thought. “No, but the fact is, I have a perfect motive.”
Surprised, she put down her coffee. “What?”
“I found out today that Mike had taken out a half-million-dollar life insurance policy on himself and named me as the beneficiary. That qualifies as a top-rank motive, don’t you think?”
“But you said you just found out today.”
“Do you seriously think McKenna will believe that?”
“That’s strange.”
Fiske cocked his head at her. “What is?”
“Justice Knight said something along the lines that most homicides are committed by family members, and that I shouldn’t trust anybody — meaning, I’m sure, you.”
“Was she ever in the Army that you know?”
Sara almost laughed. “No, why?”
“I was just wondering if she could have anything to do with Rufus Harms.”
Sara smiled. “But now that we’re on the subject, how about Senator Knight? He might have been in the Army.”
“He wasn’t. I remember reading in the Richmond papers during his first Senate campaign that he was physically unable to be in the Armed Forces. His political opponent at the time was a war hero and he tried to make a big deal out of Knight not serving his country. But he did, in an intelligence capacity, good record and all, and the whole thing went away.” Fiske shook his head in frustration. “This is silly. We’re trying to pound square pegs in round holes.” He took a long breath. “I hope Rider can help us.”
* * *
Dressed in overalls, the man pushed the bulky cleaning cart down the hallway and then stopped outside one office, noting the stenciled lettering on the frosted glass door: SAMUEL RIDER, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. The man cocked his head and looked around, listening intently. The office building was small and Rider’s law office was one of only a half dozen places of business on the second floor. At this hour, the town and the building were pretty much deserted.
Josh Harms tapped against the door and waited for a response. He tapped again, this time a little louder. Josh had left Rufus in the truck parked in the alley while he reconnoitered the area. He had found the cleaning supply closet and hatched his plan in case someone showed up. He tapped on Rider’s office door once more, waited another couple of minutes, pursed his lips and gave a low whistle. Within twenty seconds, Rufus, who had been trailing him in the darkness of the hallway, joined him. Rufus wasn’t wearing a cleaning uniform; there hadn’t been one in the storage closet that came close to fitting him.
Josh pulled his lock-pick equipment and within a few seconds they were on the other side of the office door in the receptionist’s area.
“We got to move fast. Somebody might show up,” Josh said. Tucked inside his belt was his pistol, fully loaded, a round chambered.
“I’ll look here and you go into Samuel’s office and start looking around.”
Rufus was already going through a file cabinet using the flashlight he had brought with him from the truck. Josh went into Rider’s office. The first thing he did, after checking the street for activity, was close the drapes. He pulled out a flashlight of his own and started searching. He came to the locked desk drawer and jimmied it. He gave a low whistle as his hand closed around the packet that had been taped to the underside of the desk drawer. He went to the doorway. “Rufus, I got it.”