The Man Who Wasn't All There by David Handler (book recommendations website TXT) 📕

from talking to Merilee’s neighbor, an old-timer, is that their relatives seemed to accept the way things were – which was that Austin was obscenely rich and crazy and that Michael was obscenely rich and private.’

Colin Fielding glanced at me and said, ‘Feel like stretching your legs?’

Lulu and I got out and joined him on a tidy pea gravel footpath that circled around behind the brick manor house before it led us to a scenic lookout with a panoramic view of Hamburg Cove and most of Lyme. We were way high up. So high we could actually look down and see a red-tailed hawk slowly wafting below us on the morning breeze before it suddenly plunged downward and snatched up its prey – an unsuspecting rabbit – which, somehow, was still alive, its paws flailing helplessly as it was carried off to its doom. Nature, I reflected, is utterly ruthless. As we resumed walking, not a word spoken yet, I thought about what a boost it would be for the governor to unveil Michael Talmadge’s grand multi-billion-dollar public education and health scheme three years ahead of schedule. The governor’s popularity had plummeted ever since he’d imposed the state income tax. Most political observers believed he had zero chance of being re-elected. I couldn’t help wondering if he was behind these murders.

Politicians, after all, are even more ruthless than hawks.

As we continued to walk, Lulu keeping pace with us on her healing front paws, I found myself looking over at Fielding and noticing that he wasn’t as slightly built as he’d initially appeared. He wasn’t tall, maybe five feet nine, but he was wiry and fit. Stomach flat. Shoulders straight. Big hands that looked strong and capable.

‘Spend much time in the great outdoors?’ I asked him, breaking the silence.

‘Why, yes, I do. I love to kayak. Love the water.’

‘How about the woods?’

He ran a hand over his thinning sandy-colored hair. ‘Not so much. Not unless there’s snow on the ground. I enjoy cross-country skiing, but I’m not much of a hiker. Reminds me too much of basic training.’

‘You were in the military?’

He nodded. ‘Army.’

‘Did you serve in ’Nam?’

‘If you consider pushing papers around at the Pentagon serving then, yes, I served.’

‘What kind of papers?

He glanced at me sidelong. ‘I was in Army Intelligence.’

‘So you were a spook?

He let out a laugh. ‘Hardly. I collated information and prepared briefing papers for the Joint Chiefs. Then they started sending me over to Capitol Hill as a military liaison, which is how I first met the governor. He was a congressman in those days. Before long I was his go-to advisor on military affairs. Now I’m his chief of staff, political consultant, campaign coordinator, all of the above.’

‘Meaning you do whatever needs doing?’

‘That’s right.’

As we walked, me with my hands buried in the pockets of my flight jacket, I wondered just how broad his job description was. Could he have been the one who was tailing us up Mount Creepy that day after Austin’s rampage at the beach club? Had he slashed Austin’s throat at the waterfall and shoved his body over the safety railing down into the gorge below? And what about Michael? He wouldn’t have opened his door to just anyone last night. His killer had to be someone he knew. Could that someone have been Fielding? The M.E. had said he’d found blood and skin under Michael’s fingernails. I glanced over at Fielding. Didn’t see any scratch marks on his face or hands – but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any on his neck or forearms.

‘I’m also a marathon runner,’ he said. ‘I try to do New York City and Boston every year. Running keeps me sane.’ He looked at me. ‘I suppose your writing is what keeps you sane.’

‘When it’s going well. When it’s not it keeps me insane.’

‘You didn’t serve in ’Nam.’ It was a statement, not a question.

‘No, I was still in school when we pulled out.’

‘Chucked spears at Harvard, didn’t you?’

‘You checked up on me?’

‘Of course I checked up on you. Hypothetical question … Say we’d stayed in ’Nam long enough for you to lose your 2-S deferment and get drafted. Would you have served?’

‘I was opposed to the war, if that’s what you’re wondering. I thought we had no idea what we were doing there and that our government was lying to us.’

‘You weren’t wrong.’

‘Now is it my turn?’

‘Your turn to what?’

‘Ask you a personal question that’s none of my damned business.’

He frowned at me. ‘Is that what I was doing?’

‘Kind of.’

‘Just trying to get a read on you. Fair enough. Ask away.’

‘Where were you last evening?’

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. ‘Oh, I see. Sure. I was with the governor and his wife at a political symposium at Trinity College. Dragged on forever. We didn’t get out of there until after eleven. Got home just before midnight.’

‘Where do you live?’

‘Farmington.’

‘Are you married?’

‘Divorced. You don’t actually think I killed Michael, do you?’

‘And let’s not forget about Austin.’

He shook his head in disbelief. ‘That’s lunacy.’

‘Lunacy happens to be my middle name.’ Actually, it’s Stafford, but he no doubt already knew that.

‘I’ll admit I’ve done some pretty awful things in my time. I’ve double-crossed good friends. Lied. Cheated. Ruined perfectly decent men’s lives. Politics isn’t beanbag, as the old saying goes. But I have absolutely nothing to do with these deaths. I give you my word on that. And I’d also like to give you some advice. Pull over, turn off your engine and throw away the keys.’

‘That sounds more like a threat than advice.’

‘Then let me put it to you this way: I can be a good man to have as a friend, but you don’t want me for an enemy. Plus it’s always wise to stay out of things you don’t understand. I’m truly sorry you got mixed up in all of this. You came out here to enjoy the fall foliage. Next thing you know you’re in the middle of a