Page 57 of Line of Sight (Second Sight #4)
GARY WALKED into the office to find Riley writing on the board.
“What have I missed?” He’d been to update Travers on Amy Walsh’s death.
“Did you tell Travers about the receipt for the shoe?”
“Yeah, why?”
Riley pulled a face. “It was a dead end, which we had a feeling it might be, given how much time has elapsed. No one at the shoe store remembered any customers who’d bought that particular style. So it’s back to the drawing—I mean—whiteboard.”
Gary’s phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. “It’s Greg Collins.” He clicked Answer and put it on speaker. “Mr. Collins. What can we do for you?”
“I need to talk to you. It’s important. It’s about the murders you’re investigating.”
“Which murders in particular?” Riley called out.
Greg paused before speaking. “Scott McCarthy, Brad Mitchell, Mark Wilson, Heather Kelly, Jeff Murphy, and Sean Nichols.”
Riley grabbed his notebooks, and Gary waited until Dan had pulled up the voice recorder on his phone and clicked on Record.
“Do you have information for us, Mr. Collins?” Gary kept his voice low and even.
“Yes. I… I know who killed them, only now I’m scared. I think I’m next.”
“Because of what you know?” Dan interjected.
“Yes. We didn’t think he was serious when he first mentioned it.”
Get a name , Riley mouthed.
“Who are we talking about? And when he mentioned what? Killing people?”
There was another pause. “This is all to do with… the Secret Murder Club.”
Dan’s breathing hitched.
Gary’s heartbeat quickened. “What was the purpose of the club? Apart from the obvious, given the title.”
“It was like that book, Strangers on a Train . You want someone dead? Someone else commits the murder for you. Except he offered to do all the killing. The only catch was that the victim had to be someone who’d gotten in our way, whose…
removal would clear the path to fame and fortune, or something like that.
We thought he was joking, but it turned out he was serious.
” Greg’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.
“I guess the others took him up on his offer, not that they ever said a word about it to me. That was something else he stipulated. No one had to know. It was to be our secret.”
“But who is he?” Riley demanded. “Can’t you give us a name?”
“That was our part of the deal—to keep quiet about his involvement. But I can’t stay silent anymore.”
“Then give us his name.” Riley’s voice rose.
“Not yet. Not until I see you. Not until I know you can keep me safe.”
“Brad knew about the club, didn’t he?” Dan asked.
“Yes. Like I said, we all thought it was a joke. But I think he got scared after Scott was killed. I… I didn’t know, okay? I had no idea Scott would be murdered. None of us did. But I think Brad planned to go to the police. I think that’s why he died.”
Gary’s stomach clenched. “You need to come to the precinct and make a statement, Mr. Collins. If you fear for your life, we can protect you.”
“I’m away on business right now. I’m safe. I’ll be back in a few days. I’ll call you then and set up a time. Is that okay?”
Gary’s heart pounded. “I can arrange for a statement to be taken at a police precinct near to your present location. Where are—”
The call disconnected. Gary redialed, but there was no reply.
Riley sank into his chair. “The Secret Murder Club?”
Dan nodded slowly. “Now we know what Brad was writing about in the cover of that book. ‘No SMC , ’ he said.” He went over to stand in front of the board and picked up a pen.
He wrote The Secret Murder Club across the top of the board.
“The part about killing anyone who got in their way… it all makes sense. We have our theories as to why Scott, Mark, and Jeff were killed, right?”
Gary nodded. “They could’ve spoiled things. They had to be gotten rid of. But what was the motive for Heather Kelly’s murder?”
Dan folded his arms. “I’ve been thinking about that.
Jason inherited her money. We know he had financial troubles, don’t we?
But I don’t think that was the reason.” He returned to his desk and sat.
“I’ve been looking at the press coverage during the lead-up to the election.
I read Jason’s speeches. He talked about struggling to keep going, but he was doing it because that was what she would’ve wanted—for him to continue.
Pretty much word for word what he said to us.
He talked about how she’d longed to see him in office.
” He frowned. “Jason Kelly milked the people of Maine for every drop of sympathy, and it paid off. He won in a landslide victory.”
“Would it have been a landslide if she hadn’t been murdered?” Riley pondered.
“Probably not. He was way behind in the polls. Her murder was perfect timing.” Dan picked up his pen and drummed it on the desk.
“And that’s not all I’ve been thinking. We know why the killer sent me a copy of The Silence of the Lambs .
That was Mark’s murder. The Crucifix Killer ?
That’s something he’s planning—or at least that’s what he wants us to think.
But why the copy of the works of Edgar Allan Poe?
I read those in college. None of the murders can be found in those pages.
And that got me to thinking about Brad. Why his death wasn’t like the others. ”
Gary’s pulse raced. “Go on.”
Dan tapped the pen against his chin. “Scott died in January ’95.
And in February… I think that’s when Brad—and maybe some of the others—confronted the killer.
That was when Brad stopped reading, remember?
So Brad knew about this Secret Murder Club.
” He glanced at Gary. “He wasn’t the kind of guy to contemplate committing murder, was he?
” It wasn’t a question but a confirmation.
Gary expelled a long breath. “No, Brad wouldn’t have done that.”
“Who’s to say any of them would have? But it sounds as though Brad was the one to stick his head above the parapet and say, ‘No, you have to stop this.’”
The more Gary thought about it, the more he realized Dan was right. “He wouldn’t have kept quiet about it, not Brad. He would have taken action.”
Dan gave a nod, his eyes bright. “The killer probably worked that out too—and made sure Brad couldn’t.
That’s why I think he did what he did to Brad’s body.
It isn’t a scene from a thriller—but it is a nod to a Poe tale.
It was the killer’s twisted sick joke, just like choosing that line from it. That was what gave me the idea.”
Gary’s breathing became shallow, pain lancing through his chest. “Which one? Which story?”
Dan regarded him with eyes filled with compassion. “‘The Tell-Tale Heart.’ Except Brad wasn’t going to get the chance to tell any tales.”