Chapter 21

 

Eddie met Harvey and Jeff in Harvey’s driveway Wednesday morning, and they set off toward the corner on their Wednesday route.

“Don’t let me forget to call the florist first thing,” Harvey said.

Eddie threw him a look over his shoulder. “What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. Jenny’s a little depressed, is all.”

“Because you’re working too hard?”

“No, it’s—well, we found out last night we’re not expecting again.”

“Not—you mean another baby?” Eddie turned around and jogged backward.

“Yeah.”

Behind Harvey, Jeff said, “This is depressing? You just had one.”

“I know, but we thought maybe we were having another one, and we’re not, so she’s a little down.”

Eddie shook his head. “Two years between. That’s what my mother says. That’s what she did.”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t my age when she got married.”

Jeff stepped off the curb and came up beside him. “Doesn’t the mother need some rehab time or something?”

Harvey shrugged. “I’ll ask Carl. Do you think?”

Jeff shrugged. “All I know is, Beth is going to want some time to recover after this pregnancy.”

“Well, sure, she’s had a rough time,” Harvey conceded. He was beginning to puff a little, so he concentrated on his breathing.

When they stopped in Eddie’s yard twenty minutes later, Jeff walked across the lawn, gulping air. “Did you see Mark’s picture in the magazine?”

“We saw it,” Eddie said. “I’m glad it wasn’t me.”

“The phone rang all day and all evening at the fire station yesterday,” Jeff told him. “The captain got mad after a while. At least they’re not using the emergency line to ask for dates.”

Eddie laughed, but Harvey shook his head.

“The same thing happened in our unit. I told Paula to screen all Winfield’s calls and take phone numbers. He can call these women back on his own time if he wants to, but he’s not taking their calls on city time.”

“Think Mark will go out with any of the ones that call him?” Eddie asked.

Jeff grinned. “I don’t know. Two girls came in at lunch time with homemade cookies for him. He took it pretty well, but he was embarrassed.”

“He should have thought of that before he let them take the picture,” Harvey said.

“Aw, come on, Harv, it’s good P.R.,” Jeff insisted.

“Waste of time,” Harvey muttered.

*****

The elevator door opened, and Arnie Fowler stepped into the Priority Unit.

“Hey, Arnie,” Eddie cried.

Harvey jumped up to greet him.

“You guys need a new pass code,” Arnie said. “It hasn’t changed in months.”

“I’ll tell Jack,” Harvey said. “Hey, come have a cup of coffee. What are you up to?”

“Oh, I’m going north with Mike and Sharon this weekend to paint their apartment at the lodge. They’re making a lot of progress up there. You guys ought to go up in November and do some hunting.”

“I’ll consider that.” Harvey poured a cup of coffee and held it out to Arnie.

“Thanks.”

Eddie said, “I’m using all my remaining vacation for the honeymoon, I’m afraid.”

“Well, you and Leeanne can skip up there for a weekend.” Arnie sipped the coffee and frowned. “Is this decaf?”

“Uh—” Harvey looked guiltily toward the secretary’s desk. “Paula makes it for me. I have no idea.”

“You can always tell,” Eddie said.

“I guess I can’t.”

“Good,” Arnie told him. “If you can’t tell, it’s probably better for you. Unfortunately, I can tell. You got the real thing someplace?”

“In the break room,” Eddie said. “That’s where I’m getting mine now. Give me the cup. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Sit down, Arnie.” Harvey pulled out a chair.

“Oh, I don’t want to keep you from your work. I was just up to see Mike for a minute, and I thought I’d look in here. You guys are all computerized now.”

“Yeah, they’ve got the records all in the system for forty years back now. It’s great.” Harvey poured his own coffee and sat down, and Arnie relented and settled into his extra chair.

“Funny thing about Bolduc’s guns getting stolen,” Arnie said.

“I’ll say. That’s the freakiest thing about this case.”

“He had some nice guns.”

“You’ve seen them?” Harvey asked.

“Oh, sure. Joey and I went to a gun show together in South Portland a couple of years ago. He sold one of his old rifles and bought a .30-06 that day.”

“That was there,” Harvey said. “A Winchester model 70.”

Arnie nodded. “Did he still have the old Dan Wesson I sold him?”

“The what?”

“Dan Wesson revolver. A .357.”

Harvey shook his head slowly. “There was a Smith & Wesson .357 in the collection. Funny you should mention it.”

“Why’s that?”

Harvey bit his lip. “You sold him a .357 when?”

“Couple years ago. No, not that long. I could tell you. I kept a record.”

“Do that. Can you let me know today?”

“Sure. It wasn’t with his other guns, huh?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Arnie reached for the coffee mug Eddie was bringing. “Thanks. It’s too bad. I liked that gun, but Joey was keen on it, so I let it go. Thought he’d hang onto it. Oh, well, he probably got a better offer.” He sipped his coffee.

 

*****

“Eddie, bring me the folder with the lists of Joey’s guns,” Harvey said when Arnie had left. Eddie brought it, and he opened it and stared thoughtfully at the copy of the list in Joey’s handwriting.

“You got something?” Eddie asked quietly.

Harvey’s eyes were troubled. “When is a .357 Smith & Wesson not a .357 Smith & Wesson?”

“When it’s really a nine-millimeter?”

Harvey stood up. “Arnie sold Joey a Dan Wesson a while back. He’s going to call me with the date.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to Harvey’s. “Dan Wesson? Joey’s revolver was a Smith & Wesson.”

“At least, we think it was.” Harvey tapped the list with his index finger. “The murder weapon certainly was.”

“Is Dan Wesson the same guy as the one in Smith & Wesson?”

Harvey shook his head. “His descendant. Started his own company about fifty years ago.”

“But Joey wrote it on his list.”

“No.” Harvey shook his head. “Joey wrote .357 Wesson. Not Smith & Wesson. When Philip Bolduc modified the list, that gun became a Smith & Wesson.”

“Or maybe before that?”

“Maybe. I’m thinking the gun Philip was looking at when he wrote it was a Smith & Wesson.” Harvey stared at Eddie. “We missed something. Go over everything we have on Philip Bolduc again.”

“What am I looking for?”

“I don’t know, but there’s something.” Harvey pounded his desk so hard coffee splashed out of his mug onto the desktop. “I’ve let Brad Lyons cloud my thinking on this. I was positive he did it.”

“He did,” Eddie insisted. “He gave the gun to the custodian, and—”

“And where’s the Dan Wesson?” Harvey asked grimly.

“Joey must have sold it.”

“No, no. Arnie said Joey was keen on it. Arnie wasn’t trying to sell it, but Joey really wanted it.” Harvey swung around. “Listen, I was going to talk to Bob Marshall this morning, but I think I’ll run over to the gun shop on Forest Avenue and check Brad’s story about his pistol. Can you call Bob and tell him I’ll see him later?”

“Call the florist,” said Eddie.

“Right. Thanks.”

 

*****

The stairway door opened Thursday morning, and Bob Marshall came into the Priority Unit office. Harvey went to meet him.

“Bob, thanks for coming. Will you step into the interview room here for a few minutes? I want to ask you about the day you and Brad Lyons helped Philip Bolduc move his brother’s gun cabinet.”

Marshall shrugged and walked with him. “Sure, Captain, but I don’t know as I can tell you anything new.”

“How did it come about that you and Brad went over there?”

“I was talking to Joey’s brother after the funeral. You know, chitchat with the family. He mentioned the guns, and we got talking about it. He said he wanted to move the cabinet over to his place, not leave it in Joey’s empty house. You know, for security.”

Harvey nodded.

“So I told him I’ve got a truck, and I would help him.”

“And how did Brad enter into it?”

“He just happened to overhear, I guess.” Bob eyed him warily. “You think he was maybe listening, trying to … what? Have an opportunity to get in Joey’s house or something?”

“I just want to know how the arrangements were made.” Harvey sat down at the table, and Bob sat across from him.

“Okay, well, Brad just kind of jumped in and asked if we needed help moving something. Bolduc said sure, so after the wake we went and changed clothes and met at Joey’s house. Man, that was difficult. I’d been over there a lot, you know? Most of Joey’s stuff was still there. Roxanne had mentioned to me at the funeral that I ought to have something, and his brother gave me one of his hunting knives. A Schrade. Nice blade.” Bob shook his head. “I still can’t believe Joey’s dead.”

“You and Brad saw all the guns that day,” Harvey said quietly.

“Yeah, I think so. All the ones in the cabinet, anyway. Were there more?”

“Well, a friend of Joey’s mentioned to me one handgun that doesn’t seem to have been in the cabinet. A Dan Wesson.”

Bob’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I don’t remember that. There were two or three handguns. His service revolver wasn’t there. I figured you had it.”

“We do.”

Bob nodded. “Well, I don’t know of any others.”

“Okay, just thought I’d ask. Oh, and another thing, Bob. This is a totally different thing that came up recently. Sergeant Legere and I were talking yesterday about a case your unit handled in August. Big drug bust on the twenty-fourth. You remember that night?”

“Oh, let’s see, that must have been down in the Old Port. Sure. We had a lot of guys down there.”

“Right. The uniforms took the prisoners away, and your unit searched the house. You and Joey collected the money as it turned up. Trudeau and Gordon were logging heroin and loading it.”

“That sounds right.”

“How much money did you find in the house?”

Marshall’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t say. A lot. Over thirty thousand, I think. Thirty-eight sticks in my mind, but I could check my reports.”

“Did you personally count it?”

“I think we kept a running total as it went in the bag, but it was approximate. It was officially counted once we got back to the station.”

“By whom?”

He sat still for a moment. “You know, I think Brad counted it. We passed it to him, and I told him the approximate figure, and he logged it for us.”

“So, if you told him thirty-eight thousand, and it was actually less, what would have happened?”

“He would have told us immediately, I’m sure.”

“And if it was more?”

Marshall’s lower lip twitched. “Captain, are you telling me that money’s missing? Because we’re going to trial on that case pretty soon.”

“No, Bob, relax. The money’s still in the Evidence Room. I checked on it yesterday. I’m really concerned about the counting procedure.”

“Well, like I said, it was an approximate count, and we gave it to the sergeant, and he took it from there.” Bob stared at Harvey. “You think Brad—oh, man.”

Harvey smiled at him. “Stop trying to second guess me, Bob. You’re sure Brad did the final count?”

“Well, now I couldn’t swear to it. But somebody out front did. Not me. We started questioning the prisoners.”

“But you and Joey knew there was roughly thirty-eight thousand dollars there, and Brad didn’t contradict that.”

“No. As far as I knew until this minute, everything went perfect on that case.”

“Okay. Relax. It’s still perfect. You’re going to get convictions.”

Marshall eyed him distrustfully.

“You want some coffee?” Harvey asked.

“Well, are we done?”

“We’re getting there. I have a few more questions. Why don’t I get you some coffee?”

“Okay. Black.”

“Great. I’ll be right back.”

Harvey went into the office, leaving the video camera running, and beckoned to Jimmy Cook. “Get me some black coffee for Bob.” He walked to Eddie’s desk.

“I’m not having any luck on Philip Bolduc,” Eddie said, looking up.

Harvey put one hand on his shoulder and leaned down close. “Put Nate and Tony on their computers. You fill out a couple of warrant forms and I’ll sign them, then you call Bob’s bank. I want a financial profile asap and a full search of his house.”

“Bob Marshall?”

Harvey nodded.

“I thought you said you were sure he was clean.”

“I was an idiot. I was so sure, I never looked twice at Bob, and only once and a half at Philip Bolduc. But they had as much opportunity to swap the guns as Brad did. And Brad’s revolver matches the serial number in the gun shop owner’s records. He bought it legally, seven years ago. Bob ought to have known about that Dan Wesson. He shot with Joey all the time. Joey had to have showed it to him after he bought it from Arnie.”

“You think he’d have ditched it?”

“He might have. But if he thought he was safe … Get the warrant apps ready.”

Eddie nodded. Harvey took the mug of coffee from Jimmy and went back to the interview room.

“Here we go. Bob, I don’t want to keep you away from your work; I know you’re busy right now.” Harvey sat down, smoothing his necktie. “Listen, this may be shocking, but you’re a detective. You understand I have to check into every possibility.” He stared into Marshall’s uneasy brown eyes. “Do you think there is any way, any way at all, that Joey might have skimmed the drug money that night?”

Marshall swallowed. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re sure.”

“Absolutely. What are you trying to do here? Joey was honest.”

“Okay. I believe you. And if he had pocketed some bills, you’d have known it, wouldn’t you?”

“I—I guess so.”

“You were both right there, and when anyone found money, say under a mattress, or in the freezer, they’d hand it to you and you’d count it and toss it in the bag, right?”

“Right. But it was really crazy that night. A lot was going on. There were a lot of suspects, and there had been shots fired. We tore the place apart after.”

Harvey nodded. “So you might not have noticed if Joey had—”

“I told you, Joey wouldn’t.”

“Right. And if you had the opportunity, Joey would have known.”

“What are you saying?”

“Just that either of you, or both, could have skimmed a little, and no one else would know. Just you and Joey.”

Marshall’s breathing was shallow, and his face colored as he stared at Harvey. “I don’t believe this. I told you, I can vouch for Joey.”

“Yes, and he could vouch for you, if he weren’t dead.”

Harvey’s cell phone hummed softly, and he took it out and looked at it. Eddie had texted warrant apps ready.

Harvey looked Marshall. “Bob, I don’t like doing this to a fellow officer, but sometimes to clear someone we have to investigate their activities. That’s the only way to narrow the suspects down in some cases.”

“You’re investigating me? For what? Skimming the drug money? You have proof it was skimmed? I don’t get it. Six weeks later and an eyewitness comes forward, or what?”

“That operation was prime for some cash going missing. It was hectic, it was messy, a lot of people were on the scene. A large amount of cash was scattered throughout the building. If someone needed some money fast, it might have been tempting to just pocket a little. And the person who made the official count was given an approximate total. There was leeway everywhere.”

Marshall continued to stare at him. “Brad Lyons could have … Listen, Captain, you won’t find any mysterious deposits in my bank account. Ask my wife. Things are tight around our house. We’ve got two kids in college. Carol works full time, and we squeak by.”

Harvey nodded. “We just have to check everything, Bob. I’m requesting search warrants for your house. Will we find any handguns?”

“Handguns? Yes. My nine-millimeter. It’s in the bedroom closet.”

“Thank you.”

Marshall nodded slowly. “Can I go now?”

Harvey tilted his head slightly. “I’d rather have you sit tight for a little while.”

“You’re detaining me. I need a lawyer.”

“If you want one.”

Bob sighed in exasperation. “I wanted to work in this unit, but I had no idea. You’re Gestapo.”

Harvey winced. “Joey was a decent guy, and I intend to find out who killed him.”

“You have cause to think it was me?”

“Just … means and opportunity, Bob.”

“What, no motive?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

Marshall swore. “Can I talk to Ron?”

Harvey hesitated. He knew he was being rough on Marshall, but he had made the decision to put his suspicions to rest, once and for all.

“Sure.” Harvey went to the doorway. “Paula, could you please get Sergeant Legere on the phone for me? And Jimmy, please come in and stay with Detective Marshall for a minute.”

Jimmy went into the interview room, and Harvey crossed to Eddie’s desk. Eddie had the warrant applications open. Harvey quickly added his electronic signature and went to his own desk and picked up the phone.

“Ron, Hi. Could you possibly come up here for a minute? I’ve been questioning Bob Marshall, and I’d like to keep him a little longer, but he’s uncomfortable, and he asked for you.”

“What are you up to, Larson?”

“Just checking out the gun switch and the drug money thing. Bob is feeling a little hostile at my implications, I’m afraid.”

“Bob’s a reasonable man.”

“Well, yes, but he was also close to Joey, and, well, I’ve sent for warrants for his house and his financial records.”

“You what?”

Harvey pulled the phone away from his ear. When he put it back, Legere had hung up. Thirty seconds later he stormed in from the stairway.

“What in tarnation do you think you’re doing?”

“Investigating the Bolduc murder,” Harvey said calmly.

“I’m short on detectives as it is, and you’re so desperate to solve this case you’ve decided to pin it on one of my best men?”

Harvey wavered. “I could let him go back to work, but I want to be sure he doesn’t make any calls before the warrants are executed.”

“You’re a piece of work,” Legere said bitterly. “You know what’s wrong with you? They promoted you too fast, that’s what. Your head swelled faster than your brain did. And Mike says you’re a genius.” He shook his head. “Where’s Marshall?”

“This way.” Harvey led him to the interview room.

“Sarge,” Marshall said, standing as Legere and Harvey entered. “They’re detaining me and searching my house. I can’t believe this.”

Legere rounded angrily on Harvey. “Larson, this ends now. Get a grip. If you can’t make it stick on Brad, that’s not our fault.”

Harvey sighed. “I never meant to imply that it was, Ron. Please sit down and hear me out.” When they were seated, he asked quietly, “Coffee?”

“No! Get to the point,” Legere roared.

“All right. It’s very simple. Only three men had the opportunity to do this. Brad Lyons, Philip Bolduc, and Bob Marshall.”

Marshall’s eyes darted from Harvey to Legere. “What do you mean? I thought there was a janitor or someone you were looking at. Brad was here during the murder, and Joey’s brother, I understand, was miles away.”

Legere locked eyes with Marshall. “He’s talking about the guns, Bob. Whoever shot Joey, or had him shot, switched the murder weapon with one of Joey’s guns after.”

Marshall said nothing, but his breathing was shallow, and a bead of sweat ran down his temple toward his ear.

Harvey sat watching him, his brain in high gear as he realized that, except for the motive, Bob Marshall was a better candidate than either Bolduc or Lyons. He’d had Labor Day off and was one of the detectives Legere had called in the day of the murder, to help interview witnesses. His whereabouts before one o’clock had never been questioned.

“All right, Ron, I’ll bow to you on this,” Harvey said, “but I’d like to monitor Bob’s movements for the next two hours. No personal phone calls.”

Legere swore. “Does Mike know about this?”

“No. Shall we go up and see him?” Harvey waited.

“What do you want to do?” Legere asked at last. “Handcuff Bob to Wonder Boy or something?”

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Let’s go, Bob.” Legere stood, and Marshall followed him through the Priority Unit office, looking a bit dazed. At the door to the stairway, Legere turned. “Don’t think I won’t discuss this with the chief.”

Harvey nodded. “As you wish, Ron.”

As soon as the door closed, he exhaled sharply.

“Tony!”

“Here, Captain.”

“Run, do not walk, to the com room and watch Bob Marshall every second. If he leaves this building, I want to know it.”

“Yes, sir.” Tony was at the stairway door in a flash.

“Nate!”

“He’s down in the lab, sir,” said Jimmy Cook.

“All right, then, you. I’ll be upstairs. You keep me apprised of any and all developments.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harvey went quickly to Mike’s office.

“Judith, this is urgent,” he said apologetically as he strode past the secretary’s desk.

“Captain, wait—”

Harvey ignored Judith and knocked briskly on the door to Mike’s private office.

“Come in.”

Harvey pushed the door open. Mike and Sharon sat on either side of Mike’s desk with sandwiches, cookies, grapes and bottled water set out on the blotter.

“Hi, Mike. Sorry, Sharon. I should have called first, but I needed to beat Legere.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m having Bob Marshall’s house and bank records searched, and Ron’s mad.”

Mike paused with a sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Do you know what you’re doing, Harv?”

“Well, he certainly had the opportunity to kill Joey. I’ve been looking at Brad and no one else. I have to rule out Bob.”

“It’s more than that, I hope.”

“The gun. Arnie told me about a gun he’d sold Joey.” Harvey quickly told him the story, and described Marshall’s reaction when he had questioned him about it and the drug bust money.

“He’s scared of me, Mike.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Sharon asked. “You always get your man.”

“Poor Bob doesn’t want to be caught in your crossfire,” Mike said.

Harvey sank into a chair. “Am I doing it again? Have I totally lost it?”

Mike shrugged. “It’s noon, Harvey. Get something to eat. Go home and eat, that’s even better. Kick back with Jennifer for half an hour.”

“Oh, no, I forgot about Jenny again!” Harvey jumped up and pulled out his cell phone. “Excuse me.” He went out through Judith’s office and into the stairway, pushing the numbers as the door closed.

“Jenny!” He sat down on the top step. “Jenny, honey, I’m sorry. I meant to come home for lunch and I got caught up in the case again.”

“That’s okay,” she laughed. “I wasn’t expecting you. Just be sure to eat, all right?”

“I will. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Really. We have lots of time, Harvey.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning against the railing. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Will you pray for me? I feel like I’m moving too fast here, before I know what I’m doing, and I’m making people mad.”

“What happened?”

He took a deep breath. “Can I tell you later? I think I need to get back in control here.”

“Of course. And I’ll pray.”

“I love you.” He closed the phone and shoved it into his jacket pocket. As he pulled himself to his feet, the door on the landing below opened, and Jimmy came toward him.

“Captain, I tried to call you, but your phone was busy, and the chief’s secretary said you’d left.”

“Sorry, Jim, what is it?”

“Eddie got the warrants and went to the bank. Nate went to Marshall’s house.”

“Thank you.” Harvey walked slowly down the stairs and into the office, sending up a silent prayer of thanks that the judge had allowed the warrants. Paula looked anxiously toward him as he entered and gestured toward his desk, speaking into her telephone. She pushed a button, and his desk phone rang. Harvey walked wearily to it and picked it up.

“Captain, it’s Winfield. I’m watching the subject, and he’s in the detectives’ locker room. He put something in his locker, I think, but I couldn’t see what.”

“Okay, Tony, thanks.”

Harvey hung up and stared at the phone, then dialed Mike’s cell phone to bypass Judith.

“Mike, I want to search Bob’s locker.”

“Harvey, I thought you were getting a grip.”

“Tony’s watching him on the monitors in the com room. He went in the locker room right after I had him here and put something in his locker.”

“Probably what was left of his courage after you got through with him,” Mike said.

“I’m serious. I think it’s relevant.”

“Harv, you are fishing.”

“I don’t think Brad Lyons did it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t say he’s not capable, but that custodian is not a rocket scientist. I don’t think Brad would trust someone of his caliber with something that delicate. It would be too easy for Lloyd to mess up and finger him.”

“Angry people do stupid things.”

“And stupid people do stupid things. But Lloyd didn’t. We found a couple of his hairs on the dummy, that’s it. And he was helping move around the stuff for the game, so he had a reason for that. But a detective could do a clean job of it, and would know what not to touch and all that.”

“Like I said, you’re fishing.”

“Please let me search the locker.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Harvey hung up with a sigh. After a minute, he called Tony back.

“Winfield, you watching Marshall?”

“Yes, sir, he’s working at his desk. Paul Trudeau came in and got five dollars from him and is bringing him some lunch.”

“Okay, now listen to me. Keep watching him, but also watch the locker. If he goes near it again, tell me immediately.”

Harvey sat drumming his fingers on his desk.

“Jimmy!”

“Yes, sir?” Jimmy swiveled his chair toward him.

“Have you eaten?”

“No, sir.”

Harvey pulled out his wallet. “Here, go get us both something, would you please? A sandwich is fine for me. Get whatever you want.” He handed Jimmy a twenty, and the detective went out.

Harvey pulled the file folder over and stared at the lists of guns. Paula left for lunch, and Jimmy was soon back with the sandwiches. Harvey’s cell phone rang as he poured coffee to go with the ham and cheese.

It was Eddie. “Harv, nothing irregular in the bank accounts, except he didn’t pay his daughter’s tuition last month.”

“What do you mean, didn’t pay it?”

“They seem to make the tuition payments once a month, with a check. It’s their biggest payment, followed by rent and car loan. There was no check to the college last month.”

“They have two kids in school.”

“Right. The boy’s at another college, and his tuition was paid by check, as usual. But it’s smaller than the girl’s payment. I figure the kid is working and paying on it, too, or he has a partial scholarship. I could find out.”

“All right, get back here.”

Harvey instructed Jimmy to call the college where Marshall’s daughter was enrolled and ask the status of her account.

“They paid it on time,” Jimmy reported.

Harvey frowned. “But there was no check.”

“Right.”

“Credit card?”

“No, sir, a money order.”

Harvey swiveled to looked at him. “The kind you buy at the post office with cash?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Find out which post office, and get a copy of the receipt, Jim.”

Harvey called Mike again.

“Harvey, this is getting tiresome. Sharon and I are trying to have a private little lunch here, and you’ve interrupted us three times, and Legere twice.”

“Sorry, Mike, but I’ve got something else pointing in the direction we were discussing.”

Mike sighed. “All right, you can search the locker. I’ll come down in ten minutes.”

“Thanks.”

Before Mike arrived, Nate called in to report finding Marshall’s nine-millimeter pistol at his house, but no other handguns. Harvey called Cheryl and requested two patrolmen to be sent over to help Nate make a more thorough search.

“This better be good,” Mike said testily as he opened Marshall’s locker for Harvey.

“He either put something in or took something out,” Harvey assured him. “We’re not sure which.”

“What’s going on?” Ron Legere stood frowning in the doorway of the detective squad’s locker room.

“Hi, Ron,” Mike said cheerily. “This will only take a second.”

Harvey quickly probed the pockets of the jacket and jeans hanging inside, then swept the shelf with his fingertips. “Hello.” He pulled out his handkerchief and lifted down a service pistol, holding it out for Mike’s inspection.

Mike scowled. He turned to Legere. “Where’s Marshall?”

“In his office. Larson wouldn’t let him leave the building for lunch.”

“Get him in here,” Mike said.

Marshall came warily, staring at Mike and beyond him, at Harvey and the open locker.

“All right, Bob, why is your .45 in your locker?” Mike asked.

Marshall swallowed. “I—uh—didn’t want to carry it this afternoon. I’m just doing paperwork.”

“Turn around, put your hands on your head.” Mike glanced at Harvey, then stepped forward and patted Bob’s pockets. He froze for an instant, then reached under the detective’s jacket and pulled out a revolver. “Okay, Harvey, you win this one. Here’s your Dan Wesson .357.”