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He finds himself remembering the headline about the young man who recovered the stolen dog. It was simplicity itself:FOUND!All Trig can think about is what he’s lost, what he did, and the amends he must make.
Chapter 1
1
It’s April now. In the Second Mistake on the Lake, the last of the snow is finally melting.
Izzy Jaynes gives a one-knuckle courtesy knock on her lieutenant’s door and goes in without waiting. Lewis Warwick is tilted back in his chair, one foot resting on the corner of his desk, hands loosely clasped on his midsection. He looks like he’s meditating or dreaming awake. For all Izzy knows, he is. At the sight of her he straightens and puts his foot back on the floor where it belongs.
“Isabelle Jaynes, ace detective. Welcome to my lair.”
“At your service.”
She doesn’t envy him his office, because she’s aware of all the bureaucratic bullshit that comes with it, accompanied by a salary bump so small it might be called ceremonial. She’s happy enough with her humble cubicle downstairs, where she works with seven other detectives, including her current partner, Tom Atta. It’s Warwick’s chair that Izzy lusts after. With its high, spine-soothing back and reclining feature, it’s meditation-ready.
“What can I do for you, Lewis?”
He takes a business envelope from his desk and hands it to her. “You can give me an opinion on this. No strings attached. Feel free to touch the envelope, everybody from the postman to Evelyn downstairs and who knows who else has had their paws on it, but the note should maybe be fingerprinted. Partly depending on what you say.”
The envelope is addressed in capital block letters to DETECTIVE LOUIS WARWICK at 19 COURT PLAZA. Below the city, state, and zip, in even larger capitals: CONFIDENTIAL!
“WhatIsay? You’re the boss, boss.”
“I’m not passing the buck, it’s my baby, but I respect your judgement.”
The end of the envelope has been torn open. There’s no return address. She carefully unfolds the single sheet of paper inside, holding it by the edges. The message has been printed, almost certainly on a computer.
To:Lieutenant Louis Warwick
From:Bill Wilson
Cc:Chief Alice Patmore
I think there should be a corollary to the Blackstone Rule. I believe the INNOCENT should be punished for the needless DEATH of an innocent. Should those who caused that death be put to death themselves? I think not, because then they would be gone and the suffering for what they did would be at an end. This is true even if they acted with the best will in the world. They need to think about what they did. They need to “Rue the Day.” Does that make sense to you? It does to me, and that is enough.
I will kill 13 innocents and 1 guilty. Those who caused the innocent to die will therefore suffer.
This is an act of ATONEMENT.
Bill Wilson
“Whoa,” Izzy says. Still being careful, she refolds the note and slips it back into the envelope. “Someone has donned their crazy pants.”
“Yes indeed. I googled the Blackstone Rule. It says—”
“I know what it says.”
Warwick puts his foot up on the desk again, hands this time laced together at the nape of his neck. “Elucidate.”
“Better for ten guilty men to go free rather than for one innocent man to suffer.”
Lewis nods. “Now for Double Jeopardy, where the scores can really change. What innocent man might our crazy-pants correspondent be talking about?”
“At a guess, I’d say Alan Duffrey. Shanked last month at Big Stone. Died in the infirmary. Then that podcaster, Buckeye Brandon, blowing off his bazoo, and the follow-up piece in the paper. Both about the guy who came forward to say he framed Duffrey.”
“Cary Tolliver. Got hit with the cancer stick, late-stage pancreatic, and wanted to clear his conscience. Said he never intended Duffrey to die.”
“So this note isn’t from Tolliver.”