Page 92 of Tightrope

“Ray Thorpe,” Lorraine said. Her eyes tightened at the corners. “That son of a bitch wasn’t as dumb as I thought. He must have stashed the costume and the grenades here before he... Never mind. Can’t you get it through your thick skull, Brandon? Thorpe set me up to take the fall.”

The frequency of her words was pitch-perfect, Matthias realized.

“She’s telling the truth,” he said quietly to Luther. “Or at least what she thinks is the truth. Let me see that robot costume.”

Luther handed him the mask. “Here you go.”

Matthias studied the interior of the mask. The wordsProperty of Silver Horizon Filmswere stamped inside.

“Listen to me, all of you,” Lorraine said, loud and frantic now. “If I really was this clever gunrunner you keep talking about, I would not be dumb enough to leave this sort of evidence stashed in my own bedroom.”

Luther cocked a brow. “The lady has a point.”

Brandon shrugged. “If she’s a gunrunner, she sells weapons and explosives for a living. Why wouldn’t she keep a couple of grenades handy?”

“And the robot suit?” Matthias asked. He held up the head of the costume. “Why didn’t she get rid of it as soon as she no longer needed it?”

“Maybe because she planned to use it to set up Ray Thorpe,” Brandon said. “Hell, I don’t know. All I care about is that we have a missing cipher machine and we have the individual who had Ares in her possession when she was arrested. That’s all I need. I’m going to turn thiscrazy case over to the FBI as soon as possible. Robbins, take Miss Pierce downstairs. And keep an eye on her.”

“Yes, sir,” the officer said.

He handcuffed Lorraine and propelled her out of the bedroom.

“You men are all damn fools,” Lorraine shouted over her shoulder.

“This way, Miss Pierce,” Robbins said. “And I’d just like to say that my wife never misses your column inWhispers.”

“I want a lawyer,” Lorraine yelled.

“You can call one from jail,” Brandon said. “Law enforcement here in Burning Cove is real up to date. We’ve got an actual telephone. You have to pay for your own long-distance charges, though.”

Matthias waited until Lorraine and the officers were gone. Then he looked at Brandon.

“I need to make a phone call, too,” he said. He started toward the door. “Luther, do you have Oliver Ward’s private number?”

“Yes.” Luther followed him out the door and down the stairs. “Why do you want to get hold of Ward?”

“Not Ward. His wife. I need to ask Irene a question.”

“At this time of night?”

“Trust me, she won’t want to sleep, not after she gets wind of this story,” Matthias said.

Oliver Ward answered on the second ring.

“Who is this?” he asked in the voice of a man who has been yanked out of a sound sleep.

“Matthias Jones. Sorry to bother you but I have to ask your wife a question. It’s very important.”

“It had better be,” Oliver grumbled. “Hang on.”

A few seconds later Irene came on the line.

“Has there been a break in the killer-robot case?” she asked, enthusiasm erasing any trace of sleep from her voice.

“I can tell you that an arrest has been made,” Matthias said.

“Who?” Irene demanded. “And don’t say it was the robot.”

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