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“My God,” Co
“We don’t think. We know.” O’Brien pushed him away from the bed, then jerked him toward the door. “You have the right to remain silent. If you decide to waive that right, anything you say can and will be used against you…”
34
Back at Augusta police headquarters, Co
“I’m tired of playing cat and mouse,” O’Brien said impatiently. “Just come clean. Tell us the truth. Then everybody can go home.”
“Everyone except me, you mean.”
O’Brien did not smile. “Well, Co
“You really know how to inspire a guy.”
She leaned across the table. “You must be racked with guilt by now. Killing your oldest and best friend-and his wife?” She shook her head sadly. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”
“I’ve been telling you-I didn’t kill anyone.”
“And I have to admit-I bought it for a while. I went along with you. Played your game. But the game’s over now. You’ve been caught red-handed.”
“There’s no red on my hands. Not a trace of blood. If I committed this murder, where’s the blood?”
O’Brien was unimpressed. “I learned how to wash my hands back in kindergarten, Co
“How did I manage to not get any blood on my clothes?”
“Practice makes perfect.” She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “Give it up. No one’s buying it anymore.”
“Look, talk to the people at the clubhouse. Talk to the bartender. Talk to Harley or some of the other pros. I’ve been in that clubhouse for the last three hours. I never left once.”
“We’re checking your story. We know you were in the clubhouse. But no one was really keeping tabs on you-a fact you no doubt counted on. So far no one can be certain you didn’t slip away for a short while. After all, five minutes is all it would’ve taken.”
“But it doesn’t make any sense. Why would I want to kill Freddy?”
“I don’t know. Why did you kill John and Jodie?”
Co
His shout rang through the tiny interrogation room, bouncing off the coarse plaster walls. Get a grip on yourself, Co
Co
“Do you want an attorney?”
Co
“Yeah, that’ll happen.” O’Brien turned her head and gave a quick nod to one of the men standing behind her. Seemed it was time to change lobsters and dance.
The other man, a dark-haired middle-aged guy with eyes as deep as a water well, introduced himself. “I’m Sergeant Hopkins,” he said. “For the record, I’m taking the lead in the interrogation as of twenty-two-oh-six P.M.” He looked at Co
Co
“Motive, that’s what I’m talking about. I’ve got no problem with guilt; it’s obvious you did it. Finding John McCree’s body yourself was a nice touch; that threw us off for a while. But you had clear means and opportunity. The only thing I can’t figure is motive.”
“So I killed John because he was a better golfer? That’s really pathetic.”
“To me, maybe. But to someone who spends his whole life knocking those balls around-who knows?” He tilted his head to one side. “Or maybe it was the woman.”
“The woman? Which woman?”
“Jodie McCree. She was your girl, once upon a time, wasn’t she? Don’t bother denying it. We’ve investigated this thoroughly.”
“That was years ago!”
“And I’ll bet it was digging into your craw every single day, wasn’t it?” His face darkened, and his eyes actually seemed to recede. “I’ll bet your hate festered like an open wound, getting worse and worse every day, until finally you just couldn’t stand it any longer. You saw them both at the tournament, maybe sitting across the table at the champions’ di
“No!”
“You’ll feel better if you confess. Really. Just let it all go. You can’t imagine how much better you’ll feel.”
Giving Hopkins a few shots in the face would also make him feel better, but he wasn’t going to do that, either. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Fido.”
“So it was all a coincidence. Just a strange twist of fate that you found the body. That your golf club was the murder weapon. That you were on the scene when Mrs. McCree was killed, too. That you don’t have an alibi for either murder.”
“I didn’t know I’d need one-since I didn’t know there were going to be any murders!”
“Weren’t you a bit jealous of your old buddy John? When he went off to that big West Coast college? When he married your old girlfriend? When he won all those golf tournaments, and you couldn’t seem to win anything?”
“I’ve done all right this week.”
“Sure-’cause John McCree is out of the way.”
“That’s the stupidest-”
“When he was around, you were psychologically incapable of playing a good game. But once he was gone…”
“What is this, Psych 101? You’re on a gigantic fishing expedition. You don’t know anything. And you don’t have anything on me.”
“Other than a bloody mutilated corpse on your bed,” O’Brien replied. “How do you explain that?”
Co
“Why would anyone else want to kill Freddy Granger?”
“I don’t know.”
“And even if they did-why would they do it in your cabin?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the same reason they took my golf club. To frame me.”
“And why would anyone want to do that?”
“I don’t know!”
“Is this going to be your story at trial? Because I have to tell you-it’s pathetic. No one’s going to believe you.”
“How could I know the answers to these questions? I wasn’t there! I didn’t do it!”
“Gee, maybe no one did it. Maybe it was suicide. Maybe Freddy slashed his own throat.”
Co
“Or maybe it was just an accident. Maybe he slipped in the shower.”
Co
“Or maybe his death was staged,” Hopkins continued. “Maybe he isn’t dead at all. Maybe this was some wacky fraternity stunt.”
“Would you just shut up!” Co
“Yes?” Hopkins said expectantly.
“And-damn.” Co
O’Brien pushed her way back to the interrogation table. “What are you saying?”
“I know who the killer is.”
“Yeah,” Hopkins snorted. “So do we.”
Co