Page 84 of Fish in a Barrel
There was silence all around, and for the first time Henry’s boyfriend spoke up, his natural sarcasm ringing loud and clear. “Hey, Henry, do you think that might be important?”
Henry’s response was pained. “Well, yes. We assumed they were in a vehicle because it’s drizzling and it’s cold and dark, and the old hospital is in the middle of a residential neighborhood. There’s no place a pedestrian could really come and go from—”
“Then where’d this guy come from?” Ellery said quietly, pointing to a figure crossing the street with the traffic light, head covered in a hoodie, slender form gliding like their feet were on greased rails. Whoever it was had a massive duffel over their shoulder, something that swung like there was weight inside. But the person carrying it must have been strong, because their gait never wavered.
“Good question,” Henry murmured, looking at the time-and-location stamp visible on the video footage. “Who’s got the intersection east of this one? The place this guy would have been coming from headed west?”
“Me,” Lance said promptly. “Ellery, what’s your time stamp?”
“Eleven forty-two,” Ellery told him, excitement rising in his belly like the tide.
“Damn, Jackson flew through that footage,” Lance muttered. “Here, wait—I’ve got your guy. Passed in front of this camera at eleven thirty-seven. Billy, do you have them?”
There was a pause as Billy searched K-Ski’s laptop. “No,” he said, and then before they could all deflate, he added, “but I wouldn’t. If he was on foot, there’s a walk-through behind the grocery store that’s right in line with Jackson’s camera. I’ve been looking over your shoulders, remember? So whoever this was, they were walking from the east. They hit Lance’s intersection, proceeded to Jackson’s intersection, and then disappeared behind the grocery store, where a walk-through to the block behind the store could cut ten minutes off their path.”
“Okay, then,” Henry muttered. “So everybody scan from this point on. Given that whoever it is had to drill out the locks to the stairwell and set up the tripod on the roof, as well as wait for Charlie Boehner to appear in his own damned front room in the middle of the night.” Henry paused. “How do you think he did that, anyway? Got Boehner to walk into his front room in full view of that big window?”
“Called him,” Lance muttered. “Why not?”
Ellery swore again. “Dammit! I’ve got phone records of our key players in my briefcase. I was going to look through them for Boehner’s number—”
“We can do that when we’re done here,” Henry said decisively. “Come on, guys, we’re close. I feel it.”
“Henry, I need your eyes,” Lance said, hitting Pause and leaning back.
Henry moved playfully to sit on his lap.
“Hey!”
With a quick twist in the chair, Henry pecked Lance on his lips and grinned. “You let me sit down, I’ll take your spot,” he murmured.
Lance seemed to melt. “I’ll get you some coffee, okay?”
“You love me,” Henry said happily, standing up to let him out. He promptly sat down again, and Lance bent over his shoulders to kiss his temple.
“Highly probable,” he said softly. “I’ll let you know, if we can wrap this up in an hour and get home tonight.”
“Oh boy,” Henry cackled. “I’m gonna get laid tonight.”
Lance ruffled his hair, and Henry went back to scanning his video footage while Ellery went back to looking at his own. It was funny how exhausted he’d been when he walked through the door—and how settling in to work some more had seemed onerous and taxing in the extreme.
But working with friends,talkingto friends, had made it seem easier. He’d wondered at Jackson’s sanity when he walked in, but now, as he attacked the video footage with renewed fervor, he understood.
This was Jackson’s idea of fun.
And it was starting to be Ellery’s as well.
HALF ANhour later he stood and stretched before checking his cell phone to make sure the best image they had of their perpetrator was on it.
Henry had been close—the shadowy figure in the cheap tracksuit hoodie had taken a good forty-five minutes to re-emerge onto their traffic cameras. Their figure had been careful not to expose his or her face, and Ellery couldn’t help thinking military training.
Henry had echoed that opinion, and given his eleven years in the military, his word had some weight.
But it was late, and the people in his kitchen and living room had been working without break and without pay since early that afternoon. Ellery told them all to go home, promised Henry he’d text in the morning so Henry could be there for Cartman’s interview, and made sure the Thai food was boxed up so Lance and Henry could eat it later.
On their way out, Billy paused to shake his hand, the little brown dog tucked under his arm like he’d forgotten it was there. “I fussed a lot about him overdoing it,” he confided, “But I think this made him remember how much he likes his job.”
Ellery smiled before looking pointedly at the dog. “You’re taking that home with you?”
