The Unquiet

By then, her father had been in jail for four years. His luck ran out when he picked up five years for reckless conduct with a dangerous weapon, five years for criminal threatening with the use of a dangerous weapon, and ten years for aggravated assault, all to be served concurrently, after one of his prospective victims managed to shoot his way out of his home as Merrick was closing in on him with a knife, only for the vic to be hit by a patrol car as he was fleeing. Merrick only avoided a further forty-to-life after the state failed to prove premeditation-in-fact, and because he had no previous convictions for crimes using deadly force against the person. It was during this period that his daughter disappeared. The sentence wasn’t all served in the general population, either. A chunk of it, according to O’Rourke, was spent in Supermax, and that was real hard time right there.

After his release, he was sent for trial in Virginia for the killing of an accountant named Barton Riddick, who was shot once in the head with a.44 in 1993. Merrick was charged on the basis of bullet lead analysis by the FBI of rounds found in his car following his arrest in Maine. There was nothing to indicate that he had been at the scene of the killing in Virginia, or to link him physically to Riddick in any other way, but the chemical composition of the bullet that had passed through the victim, taking a chunk of skull and brain with it as it exited, matched bullets from the box of ammunition discovered in Merrick’s trunk. Merrick was facing the possibility of spending the rest of his life in prison, maybe even a death sentence, but his case was one of a number taken up by some law firms that believed the Bureau’s examiners had overstated the bullet lead analysis test results in a number of instances. The case against Merrick had been further weakened when the gun used in the killing was subsequently used in the murder of a lawyer in Baton Rouge. Reluctantly, the prosecutor in Virginia decided not to follow through on the charges against Merrick, and the FBI had since a

“And now he’s back here,” concluded O’Rourke.

“Asking after the doctor who was treating his daughter,” I said.

“Sounds like a man with a grudge. What are you going to do?”

I took out my wallet and laid some bills on the table to cover our tab. “I’m going to have him picked up.”

“Will the Clay woman press charges?”

“I’ll talk to her about it. Even if she doesn’t, the threat of imprisonment might be enough to keep Merrick off her back. He won’t want to go back to jail. Who knows, the cops may even turn up something in his car.”

“Has he threatened her at all?”

“Only verbally, and just in the vaguest of ways. He broke her window, though, so he’s capable of more.”

“Any sign of a weapon?”

“None.”

“Frank’s the kind of guy who might feel a little naked without a gun.”

“When I met him he told me he wasn’t armed.”

“You believed him?”

“I think he’s too smart to carry a gun with him. As a convicted felon, he can’t be found in possession, and he’s already attracting a lot of attention to himself. He can’t find out what happened to his daughter if he’s locked up again.”

“Well, it sounds plausible, but I wouldn’t want to bet my life on it. The Clay woman still live in the city?”

“ South Portland.”

“I can make some calls if you want me to.”

“Every little bit helps. It would be good if we could have a temporary order in place by the time Merrick is picked up.”

O’Rourke said that he didn’t think it would be a problem. I had almost forgotten about Jim Poole. I asked O’Rourke about him.

“I remember something about it. He was an amateur, a correspondence-college private eye. Liked using a little weed, I think. Cops down in Boston figured there might have been a drug co

“He was working for Rebecca Clay when he disappeared,” I said.

“I didn’t know that. It wasn’t my case. Sounds like she might be unlucky to be around. She vanishes more people than the Magic Circle.”

“I don’t imagine lucky people attract the interest of men like Frank Merrick.”

“If they do, they don’t stay lucky for long. I’d like to be there when they bring him in. I’ve heard a lot about him, but I’ve never met him face-to-face.”

His beer glass had left a circle of moisture on the table. He traced patterns in it with his index finger.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I’m thinking it’s a shame you have a client who believes she’s at risk.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like clusters. Some of Clay’s patients were being abused. Merrick ’s daughter was one of his patients.”

“Hence Merrick ’s daughter was being abused? It’s possible, but it doesn’t necessarily follow.”

“Then Clay disappears and so does she.”

“And the abusers are never found.”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying: having a man like Merrick asking questions about old crimes might make some people worried.”

“Like the people who committed those old crimes.”

“Exactly. Could be useful. You never know who might decide to take offense and make themselves known along the way.”

“The problem is that Merrick isn’t like a dog on a leash. He can’t be controlled. I’ve got three men looking out for my client as things stand. My priority is to keep her safe.”

O’Rourke stood. “Well, talk to her. Explain what you intend to do. Then let’s get him picked up and see what happens.”

We shook hands again, and I thanked him for his help.

“Don’t get carried away,” he said. “I’m in this because of the kids. And, hey, forgive me for being blunt, but if this thing goes up in smoke, and I find you lit the fuse, I’ll arrest you myself.”

It was time for me to drive out to Joel Harmon’s house. Along the way, I called Rebecca and shared with her most of what O’Rourke had told me of Merrick and what I was hoping to do the next day. She seemed to have calmed down a little since we last talked, although she was still intent on wrapping up our business with each other as soon as possible.

“We’ll arrange a meeting, then have him picked up by the cops,” I said. “The state’s protection-from-harassment law says that if you’ve been intimidated or confronted three or more times by the same person, then the cops have to act. I figure that incident with the window may also fall under terrorizing, and I spotted him watching you that day at Longfellow Square, so we have him for stalking as well. Either one of those would be enough to bring us under the cover of the law.”

“Does that mean I’ll have to go to court?” she asked.

“Make the harassment report first thing tomorrow. The report has to be made before a court complaint can be filed anyway. Then we can go to the District Court and get it to issue a temporary order for emergency protection after you’ve filed the complaint. I’ve already talked to someone about this, and everything should be in place for you by tomorrow evening.” I gave her O’Rourke’s name and number. “A date and time will be set for a hearing, and the summons and complaint will have to be served on Merrick. I can do that or, if you prefer, we can get the sheriff ’s department to do it instead. If he approaches you again once the order has been served, then that’s a Class D crime with a penalty of up to one year in jail and a maximum fine of a thousand dollars. Three convictions and he’s looking at five years.”

“It still doesn’t sound like enough,” she said. “Can’t they just put him away immediately?”