KNOW THINE ENEMY
Chapter 7
"Laura McClusky, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murders of Judge Randolph Westbrook, Joseph Johnson, and the attempted murder of Lieutenant Horatio Caine. You have the right to remain silent…"
Horatio stayed in the background, again out of sight, and watched the woman decline that right, forcefully.
No tears this time. Her voice was a raucous angry shriek. "I haven't murdered anybody, you stupid man! I ran into some old drunk, staggering across the road. It was an accident! I don't even know the others!"
Frank said quietly, "Shut up." He resumed, and finished, reading her rights. He signalled to a uniformed officer. "Arrange her transfer to lock-up."
"You can't keep me here! I've got animals to feed at home!"
"Guess you should have thought of that before. Interview tomorrow, Missy. Give it some thought."
He locked the holding cell behind him and caught hold of Horatio's arm. "Come on, partner. She's giving me a headache."
They waited for the elevator. "Has she got animals?" Horatio asked.
"I saw a couple of horses. Scrawny looking things, but they won't starve overnight. I'll make sure she's staying in, and get Animal Services onto it."
"And my search warrant?"
Frank chuckled. "All right, all right! First thing in the morning do for you? I promise she's not going anywhere, and it's late."
"I guess…"
"By the way, Tom sent his report up. Johnson had no alcohol or drugs in his system, so he wasn't 'some old drunk', and the impact didn't kill him. He had a heart attack immediately afterwards."
"Still murder, Frank."
"Oh, I know. As long as a tricky lawyer doesn't argue that he died of a heart condition… But there's the judge, and her attempt on you… I don't think she's going to confess, mind."
"See what we find at the house tomorrow. If we can nail her with evidence, we don't need a confession."
"Can I come along?"
"Of course. Need you ask? I was going to take Eric too. What about interviewing her?"
Frank rubbed his hands together. "Let her wait."
Laura McClusky's residence might kindly be called a farm, but it was more a couple of decrepit barns and an old trailer. There were indeed two skinny horses grazing in an almost bare field. At the arrival of the two vehicles, they had looked up hopefully and trotted to the fence.
"They're hungry," Eric murmured. "In fact, they look half starved."
"We'll get help for them, but let's finish our search first," Horatio replied. "We don't want any extra feet trampling the place. Do we have keys, Frank?"
"Damn." Frank smiled benignly. "Forgot to ask."
"Eric, get the door open."
Eric pulled a crowbar from the Hummer, but it proved unnecessary, as the trailer door opened with a sharp tug. Horatio would have sworn Frank looked disappointed.
"How do you want to do this?"
"You and I will do the trailer. Eric, take a look in the barns. Go carefully – we don't know what she keeps in there."
The old trailer had the usual smell of damp and cooking, but it was fairly neat. Frank started at one end, Horatio at the other, and they searched in silence, carefully removing drawers, feeling for loose panels on floor and walls, moving anything moveable, perusing every scrap of paper…
They had been working for only ten minutes when Eric appeared at the door. "Come and see what I've found."
"Just tell me," Horatio said, as both men looked up.
"A damaged black SUV."
"Good. I thought we might." Horatio grinned at him. "Get a recovery vehicle out here – get it to the lab. Careful with the front end – it should be covered with evidence."
"Oh, it is. I can see the blood and hair on it." He went back out, pulling out a cell phone.
"Did you know?" Frank looked at Horatio.
"Of course I didn't. But hoped. Suspected. Where else was it going to be?"
"So we'll tie her to the judge. Now there's just you."
Horatio shrugged. "We might not be able to prove that. Doesn't matter. Come on, let's go on searching – we might find something else."
They resumed the search.
"Got a gun here," Frank announced. "Under her pillow."
"I suppose I was lucky she didn't shoot me then," Horatio remarked drily. He was wrestling with a sticking drawer. He muttered, "Come on!"
"Want some extra muscle?" Frank chuckled.
"I want to find evidence, not destroy it." The drawer came out suddenly, scattering papers on the floor. "Damn it!"
With a grunt, he forced his still stiff knee to bend as he gathered up the papers. He took them over to the table where the light was better.
After a few moments, he murmured, "Jackpot…"
"What have you got?" Frank came over to him.
Lying on the table was a transcript of Leroy Biggs's trial. "And this." He turned a single handwritten sheet towards the detective, and watched his friend's expression as he read the list. "The proverbial smoking gun."
"Dear God, she was after everyone." Frank murmured. "Judge, prosecutor, witnesses, jury… And addresses… Some anyway… I suppose we should check if she's killed anyone we don't know about."
"No need. She put crosses against her successes."
"Hey, Calleigh's on this list."
"I know – she gave the ballistics testimony. Don't tell her, Frank. There's no point, now."
"I won't. Have we got enough? Because I'm dying to see what she has to say. Oh, unless you want to do the interview…"
"I'd rather not. Yet. She'll obviously recognise me. Let's keep it as a nasty surprise for her. See how you get on first. You go back if you want. Eric and I have to wait for the recovery truck."
Horatio went to find Eric, in the smaller of the two barns. "We've got her. We found a list of intended victims… What have you got there?"
Eric looked up from his crouching position. "A mama dog and four pups. Very young. Very weak. You know, she never made a sound…" He stood up. "I've given her some water…"
Horatio sighed. "You'd better call the animal division. We can add animal cruelty to everything else. Did you hear what I said? We've got her. The list, plus the vehicles…"
"So you can stop looking over your shoulder now."
"I haven't been! Have I?"
"You've been a bit… edgy. Who wouldn't be? I'll make that call and then get the SUV ready for transportation. Okay?"
Horatio sat on a bale of hay, and watched the bitch nursing her puppies. Or trying to. She was thin, and seemed to be struggling. Cruel people in the world… The dog looked at him with trusting brown eyes, and risked a tentative tail-wag. "Hey, dog, the world's not that good, you know. Lots of bad people." Talking to dogs now, Horatio… Must be old age.
At last he heard the rumble of the recovery vehicle, and stood up. "Not long, dog, I promise." He carefully closed the barn door, and went to supervise the loading.
TBC