Tell No One - By Harlan Coben Page 0,63

dead. Dead women pay no tabs."

"Her father maybe. I think he knows more than he's letting on."

Carlson didn't like it. "How about those listening devices we found at Beck's house? What's the deal there?"

"I don't know," Stone replied with a shrug. "Maybe someone else in the department suspected him too."

"We'd have heard by now. And this report on that thirty-eight we found in the box." He motioned toward it. "You see what the ATF came back with?"

"No."

"Bulletproof had no hits, but that's not surprising since the data doesn't go back eight years anyway." Bulletproof, a bullet-analyzing module used by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, was used to link data from past crimes with more recently discovered firearms. "But the NTC got a hit." NTC stood for the National Tracing Center. "Guess who the last registered owner was."

He handed Stone the printout. Stone scanned down and found it. "Stephen Beck?"

"David Beck's father."

"He died, right?"

"Right."

Stone handed it back to him. "So his son probably inherited the weapon," he said. "It was Beck's gun."

"So why would his wife keep it locked in a safety-deposit box with those photographs?"

Stone considered that one a minute. "Maybe she feared he'd use it on her."

Carlson frowned some more. "We're missing something."

"Look, Nick, let's not make this more complicated than we have to. We got Beck nailed good on the Schayes murder. It'll be a righteous collar. Let's just forget about Elizabeth Beck, okay?"

Carlson looked at him. "Forget about her?"

Stone cleared his throat and spread his hands. "Let's face it. Nailing Beck on Schayes, that'll be a piece of pie. But his wife - Christ, that case is eight years old. We got some scraps, okay, but we're not going to get him for it. It's too late. Maybe" - he gave too dramatic a shrug - "maybe it's best to let sleeping dogs lie."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Stone moved closer and beckoned Carlson to bend down. "Some people at the Bureau would rather we didn't dig this all up."

"Who doesn't want us digging what up?"

"It's not important, Nick. We're all on the same side, right? If we find out KillRoy didn't kill Elizabeth Beck, it just opens a can of worms, right? His lawyer will probably ask for a new trial-"

"They never tried him for Elizabeth Beck."

"But we wrote her off as KillRoy handiwork. It would add doubt, that's all. It's neater this way."

"I don't want neat," Carlson said. "I want the truth."

"We all want that, Nick. But we want justice even more, right? Beck will get a life sentence for Rebecca Schayes. KillRoy will stay in jail. That's how it should be."

"There are holes, Tom."

"You keep saying that, but I don't see any. You were the one who first came up with Beck being good for his wife's murder."

"Exactly," Carlson said. "For his wife's murder. Not Rebecca Schayes's."

"I don't get what you mean."

"The Schayes murder doesn't fit."

"You kidding me? It makes it more solid. Schayes knew something. We started closing in. Beck had to shut her up."

Carlson frowned again.

"What?" Stone continued. "You think Beck's visit to her studio yesterday - right after we pressured him - was just a coincidence?"

"No," Carlson said.

"Then what, Nick? Don't you see? Schayes's murder fits in beautifully."

"A little too beautifully," Carlson said.

"Ah, don't start with that crap."

"Let me ask you something, Tom. How well did Beck plan and execute his wife's murder?"

"Pretty damn well."

"Exactly. He killed every witness. He got rid of the bodies. If it wasn't for the rainfall and that bear, we'd have nothing. And let's face it. Even with that, we still don't have enough to indict, much less convict."

"So?"

"So why is Beck suddenly so stupid? He knows we're after him. He knows that Schayes's assistant will be able to testify that he saw Rebecca Schayes the day of the murder. So why would he be stupid enough to keep the gun in his garage? Why would he be stupid enough to leave those gloves in his own trash can?"

"Easy," Stone said. "He rushed this time. With his wife, he had plenty of time to plan."

"Did you see this?"

He handed Stone the surveillance report.

"Beck visited the medical examiner this morning," Carlson said. "Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe he wanted to know if there was anything incriminating in the autopsy file."

Carlson frowned yet again. His hands were itching for another wash. "We're missing something, Tom."

"I don't see what, but hey, either way, we got to get