Read Online A Specter of Justice by Mark de Castrique - Free Book Online Page B

McPhillips that having some of the pictures was better than none, and she could write her article without police restraint.”
    I took a sip of hot coffee and considered how far to press Newly. “You learn anything from the photographs?”
    Newly shook his head. “You know I can’t go there. And I know you’re champing at the bit to get involved.”
    â€œThen just tell me if you think the case is solvable.”
    He smiled. “All cases are solvable. The question is when. This murder is so bizarre that I’m confident a solution is out there. A run-of-the-mill drive-by shooting, now that’s another matter.”
    I understood and agreed with what Newly was saying. The more unusual the crime, the more likely the perpetrator will be discovered. That principle was expressed by none other than Sherlock Holmes. Although he’s only fictional, the principle is not. “Is your when soon?” I asked.
    â€œOur when depends upon the speed with which we can exercise the process of elimination. I think motive and opportunity will reveal our killer.”
    I stared at him.
    â€œI know,” he said. “Not much above a drive-by. So, I’m interested in your voicemail.”
    â€œThat’s why you’re here?”
    â€œI thought it would be best to listen to it straight from your machine. I could tell there was ambient room noise on what you recorded for me. I’d like to have one of our techs pull a copy from the line so the only ambient sound is from the caller’s location.”
    I was pleased Newly was taking the threat seriously. “Okay.”
    â€œDoes your system record caller ID?”
    â€œIt’s stamped on the message readout. I didn’t recognize the number.”
    Newly brightened. “Well, that’s at least something. Can I hear it?”
    He followed me into my office and we stood over the phone. I replayed the message.
    â€œAgain,” he said as soon as the caller finished.
    We listened a second time. I noticed how melodramatic and contrived the delivery sounded, as if read from a script. I thought of Clyde Atwood’s cheering section, the men behind him that first day of the trial, and their tough-guy posturing when I took the stand. “Sounds like a bad impression of Marlon Brando’s Godfather, doesn’t it?”
    â€œMaybe that’s what it’s supposed to sound like,” Newly replied. “What someone believes a threat should be.”
    â€œWhat do you know about that preacher Horace Brooks?”
    Newly’s eyebrows arched. “You think it’s him?”
    â€œWell, the speech is either bad Hollywood or bad Old Testament. The guy’s quoted in today’s paper asserting Helen Wilson is in league with devil worshipers trying to steal the twins away from the Atwoods.”
    Newly thought a moment. “One of the guys at the police station said Brooks showed up on the eleven o’clock TV news last night. Maybe he made the same statement then that appeared in the morning paper.”
    â€œDoes he have a history of calling press conferences?”
    â€œHe’s not shy about sticking his face in front of a camera. Brooks came to Asheville about fifteen years ago as a tent preacher. He never left.”
    â€œMust be one hell of a tent.”
    â€œHe got promoted to bricks and mortar. The Church of the Righteous. It’s out off the old highway to Canton. Most people call it the Church of the Self-Righteous.”
    â€œFire and brimstone?” I asked.
    â€œThat’s my understanding. I’m not saying they keep rattlers under the pulpit, but I bet they take the Bible so literally they believe Jesus spoke King James English.”
    â€œThe Atwoods must be part of his congregation,” I said.
    â€œYeah, but I can’t see him for something like this.”
    â€œMaybe not,” I agreed. “But who’s to say his fiery rhetoric didn’t encourage