Masked Prey (Lucas Davenport #30) - John Sandford Page 0,93
says . . .”
“I know what the letter says,” Lucas said. “The letter is bullshit. Somebody was trolling you—or maybe the letter writer really thinks 1919 is real, but believe me, there’s nothing there. Nobody wants anyone to shoot any kids. It’s a joke. It’s a fraud.”
“What about me?” Walton brayed. “Do I look like a fuckin’ joke?”
“Easy,” said Abelman.
“Don’t tell me easy, you fuckin’ kike.”
Lucas ignored the slur. “I think you’re a victim of one, a joke . . .”
“Can’t be! Can’t be!” Walton shouted. “I’m going to prison because some goddamn nerd decided to have a little fun? Can’t be! You’re lying to me, you piece of shit.”
A guard came in the back door and they all turned their heads, and he said, “We could hear some shouting outside. Everything okay here?”
“Do I look like I’m okay?” Walton shouted at him. “Get me out of here.”
The guard came up to take him by the arm and Walton shouted at Lucas, “You lying motherfucker . . . I know you’re lying . . .”
“Easy,” Abelman said.
“Fuck you, Jew. You fuck. You can’t . . .”
The guard took him out and the door closed.
* * *
—
“NICE GUY,” LUCAS SAID, when he was gone. They could still hear him shouting, through the steel door.
Abelman said, “I’d like to meet one innocent nice guy in here, but so far, I haven’t. I was hoping I’d get something out of this, but I don’t see what it could be.”
“I would think if you could argue that there was no big plot, it was nothing but a deranged man who snapped and so on . . . the court might give him some kind of a break.”
“If he hadn’t been targeting a senator’s kid, maybe. But he was. He’s going away for a long time,” Abelman said. “They got movies of him setting up the rifle. Movies like in a movie theater. I got nothing. I asked an ADA if we could talk and you know what she said?”
Lucas shook his head.
“She said, ‘No.’ Usually, they put the ‘no’ in a complete sentence, which makes you think there’s some wiggle room. Something between an adjective and a verb. Not this time. It was ‘No,’ and she said it with a smile and I could see her fang teeth. They’re gonna nail him to the wall and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
* * *
—
LUCAS PICKED UP BOB and Rae and they went out the door, talking about next moves, when Chase called and said, “I’m told you’re all done. You get what you wanted?”
“Yes. I did,” Lucas said. “What happened with the gun dealer?”
“He’s got a shop outside of Richmond and the building owner has a key and the code to the alarm system. He’s got an unlocked file with his sales receipts in it and the building owner is going to let us in with this guy’s permission. He said he thought he remembered the sale of the gun. He thinks he sold it to a woman.”
“That’d be a little unusual. Woman shooter.”
“Yes. Anyway, I’m on the way there, to the shop. We could meet there.”
“Got nothing else to do,” Lucas said. “See you there.”
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Wilson’s Outdoors was located between a pharmacy and a sandwich shop in a low-rent strip mall outside the town of Glen Allen, an hour-and-a-half drive south of Alexandria on I-95, and a few miles north of Richmond.
On the way down, Bob and Rae listened to Lucas’s account of his interview with William Walton, then amused each other by speculating on what Lucas might possibly have gotten out of the interview.
“Actually, we do know what he got,” Bob said, as they closed in on Richmond. “He got a guy really, really pissed off at him. So when the guy gets out of prison, lo, these many years in the future, he’ll probably buy another gun and go to Minneapolis and shoot Davenport.”
“Damn hard time finding me in Minneapolis,” Lucas said. “I live in Saint Paul.”
“Well, pardon me for fuckin’ breathing,” Bob said.
“Did you really get something from him?” Rae asked.
“Yes. I’m actually pleased with myself. I’m like a genius.”
“We all say that,” Rae said. She turned to Bob. “Don’t we? You were saying that last night.”
“No, I said he was a penis, not a genius.”
Rae snapped her fingers. “That’s right. Penis, not genius.”
* * *
—
THEY ARRIVED AT THE STRIP mall and Rae said, “That’s a federal Ford pulling in there, or I’ve gone blind, one or the other.” She