A Gambling Man by David Baldacci (ebook audio reader .txt) 📕

all the evidence Pickett said he had on Kemper. And the fact that Beth had called her father and that Armstrong had shown up a bit later.

“I’m sure Pickett paid top dollar for the eyewitness accounts,” said Dash. “And the other stuff is easy to massage into evidence of anything you want it to.”

“We can’t fight the whole police force, Willie.”

“Maybe not. Let’s go analyze this sucker and see what they were really after.”

In the dispensary Dash carefully looked over the tossed bottles and spilled pills. Then he stepped back and said, “Tell me what you see here, Archer. Take your time and think it over.”

Archer bent down and picked up some of the bottles and scooped up some of the pills. He compared some pills with some bottles and even put some of the scattered pills back in the bottles. He looked up at Dash.

“This thing was staged, to make it look like a robbery with drugs as the loot.”

Dash nodded. “You’re right. But explain to me your reasoning.”

Archer stood and held out two half-empty bottles and a handful of pills. “This is morphine. And these pills are amphetamines. Worth a small fortune on the street.”

“That’s right.”

“But when you compare the pills they spilled with the space left inside the bottles, they pretty much tally. So they didn’t take any narcotics with them.”

“And they didn’t have to smash the cabinet open. The key’s in the lock. The idiots obviously didn’t see it, or else they would have taken it with them.”

“Did you know O’Donnell?”

Dash nodded. “He was a good guy. A good doctor.”

“Why would anyone want to kill him?”

“That’s principally why they call it a mystery, Archer.”

“So do we wait here for Prettyman?”

“Now that I know Pickett has arrested Kemper, I’m pretty damn certain that Ern’s not gonna show up here. Pickett will. And then I think I might actually fear for our safety.”

“So what do we do?”

“You got your car out front?”

“Yeah.”

On the way out, Dash stopped at Earl’s body. He knelt down and closed the man’s eyes.

“He was a crook, and he hated my guts, but anybody who thinks they had a harder life with fewer opportunities than Earl is seriously fooling themselves.”

“You think he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Maybe. Let’s hit the road before Carl Pickett hits us.”

“Where are we going?”

“I think it’s time to check in with our client.”

Chapter 61

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” snarled Steve Prichard, the front-desk sergeant. He apparently had the graveyard shift tonight and was not happy about it.

“We’re here to see our client,” said Dash calmly.

“Your client?”

“Douglas Kemper. I understand he was booked for a double homicide. I presume an alleged murderer would not be able to post bail.”

“He’s here, but you can’t see him.”

“How many years you got to your pension, Steve?”

“Five, why?” growled Prichard.

“Because you’re never going to make it with that attitude.”

A pulse beat in the blue vein at the cop’s temple. “You threatening me?”

“No, just stating a fact. Rogers versus California, 1934. Cops denied a suspect seeing his attorneys and private investigators. All charges were dropped, a writ of habeus corpus was issued by the court, and the suspect walked free. And the cop who did the denying was busted down to riding in a prowler for a month. Then, for good measure, they canned his ass seven months before his full ride kicked in. You want to go down that road, Stevie boy, it’s okay by me.” He glanced at Archer. “Let’s go wake up Kemper’s lawyer and get the lawsuit filed before this lug uses what little brain he has and comes to his senses.”

“You ain’t bullshitting me?” Prichard barked.

“Look it up, Steve. You can read, can’t you?”

Prichard glanced at Archer and then grabbed a set of keys off a hook.

He pointed a big finger at Dash. “Just one night I hope to run into your fat ass all alone on a dark street.”

“Why, Steve, you ain’t one of them guys that like guys, are you?”

Prichard’s face flushed, but before he could say anything Dash continued, “Our client? Before I really get mean.”

Prichard led them back to the holding cells and over to the cage containing Kemper. He was seated on a metal bench, his back to the wall and his collar and necktie still undone. His very expensive suit jacket rested on the bench next to him. He had a shiner on one eye and some hardened blood on his lip.

As Prichard unlocked the door, Dash said, “Who roughed him up? You?”

“He tripped and hit that handsome puss of his on the wall,” said Prichard with a grin.

“How is it that everybody who gets arrested in this town suddenly forgets how to walk?” Dash eyed Prichard and the ring of keys. “Call Ernie in here.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not letting you lock us in there and then forget you did.”

“I don’t know if he’s here.”

“He’s here. And I know Pickett’s not.”

Prichard left and came back with Prettyman, who said, “Willie, I’m sorry—”

“I know. Now take the keys from Steve and sit down with us and maybe you’ll learn something along with me and Archer.” After Prichard left, they all sat across from Kemper.

“Which one did that?” asked Dash, pointing to his injuries.

“Does it matter?”

“Probably not. Heads-up for you, the elevator guy at my building named Earl had his throat cut and Doctor Myron O’Donnell has a third eye. I’m thinking O’Donnell was the target though they clumsily tried to make it look like a narcotics steal.”

Kemper sat up straight, looking scared. “What the hell is going on?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

Archer interjected, “You told us that O’Donnell had performed a recent surgery on your wife for appendicitis?”

“That’s right.”

“And you said her mother and father had used O’Donnell as well?” added Dash.

“Yes. Eleanor caught her arm in a piece of machinery at the shop where she kept her plane. She lost a lot of blood, but O’Donnell fixed her right up, good as new. And Sawyer had