D A Novel (George Right) - By George Right Page 0,50
search for him. Grab your coat, let's go."
"To reach Portsmouth in such weather..."
"We have the use of a copter."
Douglas hastily took his jacket from a hanger, loudly zipped it, and took out his gloves from the pockets.
"Trainee, what are you waiting for?"
"Sir, we were going to make a call to Wash."
"Mm... you're right, we should... So, what's there? Answering machine again?"
"Yes."
"Certainly, the fact that Sullivan stayed at the motel under an assumed name doesn't yet remove suspicion from Wash... Though, most likely, he's simply relaxing somewhere down south now."
John put on his warm jacket, too.
"Sir, after all, isn't Claus the same name as Nicolas?"
"Yes. But that means nothing. If the guy has a screw loose, hardly it was because of his own name."
"Yes, but it could become an additional factor."
"Well, theoretically it could. But now our main target is Sullivan. Ready at last? Let's go. Lock the door."
Just after Rockston turned the key in the lock, the phone rang again in the office. John made a movement to open the lock.
"No need," Douglas stopped him, "after the fourth ring a call will automatically switch to my cell phone... Hello?"
This time he was on the phone slightly longer and even pulled a map out of his pocket, trying to unfold it on a door with one hand. Rockston helped him.
"Wash's car was seen," Douglas informed after hanging up. "Also yesterday evening. Here," he pointed on a map, "near Malcolmtown. However, the information about it came from here," his finger sharply moved to the south. "It seemed odd to a Malcolmtown truck driver that some guy fueled his car from a can instead of using the nearby gas station. And he, I mean the truck driver, looked attentively at him and remembered the number of his car. Actually, he didn't remember it completely–he either forgot the last digit, or couldn't make it out because of snow–but all the rest match. And today he talked about it in a diner where he stopped for dinner. The owner of the diner had already been contacted and made a call to the police."
"That guy was in the Santa Claus costume?"
"No. The driver even isn't sure if he had a white beard. 'Perhaps he did, or maybe it was just snow-covered.' And even if it was Wash, to refuel from a gas can is not a crime. He may simply had found a gas station with a good price and stocked up with fuel there. Anyway, it's less suspicious than using an assumed name."
"Not only killers register under assumed names," John objected. "For example, adulterers do. And not only them. There are some people who are just intensely private and avoid leaving any personal information anywhere."
"You use your head, trainee," Douglas nodded approvingly. "But we should make a choice. The local police will of course investigate in both places, and I would like to believe they will do it assiduously enough... though, to tell the truth, they don't like to listen to us until their noses are stuck right into the shit. So you and I should not lose the control over the situation and have to choose one of two opposite directions. What do you think we should do?"
John frowned for a second, then stated resolutely: "We should return to the office, sir. To look once more through the databases."
"OK."
With several mouse clicks Rockston came to a conclusion.
"I would bet on Wash, sir."
"Why?"
"Look at their driver's records. Wash had not a single driving offense. And Sullivan was ticketed for illegal parking, for speeding..."
"And we know that our son of a bitch is very careful," Douglas caught the idea and added with a laugh: "Seems to me, it's the first case in my career when good lawful behavior serves as a basis for suspicion. But you are probably right. We'll fly to Malcolmtown."
"Are you sure he is still there, sir?"
"The truck passed him late yesterday afternoon, and we believe that he doesn't drive in the dark during a snowfall. That means he could leave the town not earlier than this morning. But by this time the state police had been already notified, and he would have been already intercepted by officers posted either here or here," Douglas showed on the map. "He's still in town. And, probably, isn't wasting any time. Let's go."
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Prime? Sergeant Jills here. Is your son at home?"
"Just a minute, I'll look... No, apparently he went out to play. What happened? Did Greg do something wrong?"