Page 66 of Holmes, Margaret and Poe

That annoyed Toof.

“Either way, Ibrahim is now our prime suspect,” Mahoney said. “Let’s go back in and search the bedrooms and the offices, see if he made a mistake.”

“Parks left three computers — a laptop in the bedroom and two desktops in the office,” Toof said. “Should be some good stuff there.”

“Show me,” Mahoney said. He looked at Agent Beaufort. “Start with the bedrooms. Be thorough. If you find something, get me.”

The young FBI agent beamed and nodded. “Right away, SAC.”

I put on blue booties, a mask, and gloves and followed them back inside. Toof and Mahoney went to secure the computers and Beaufort left to search the bedrooms, and I decided to explore the upper three floors of the wings at either end of the all-steel structure.

I’d seen the slit windows from the exterior but found them on all sides of the long rectangular and empty rooms on theupper two floors in the west wing. Each slit was equipped with openable windows made of bulletproof glass.

I could almost see Parks up here, imagining society falling apart and his fortress under attack. Extremely effective defensively, the slit windows would have allowed the gunrunner and his allies to shoot down on anyone crossing the open ground surrounding his redoubt.

I returned to the east wing, climbed up, and saw the upper two floors were similarly designed and equally empty, so I decided to go back to Parks’s gun room. It seemed to be the only place in the house where he revealed anything about himself.

Staying out of the way of the crime scene techs, I walked around the armory, amazed again that a single person could own so many weapons. I didn’t know much about valuable guns, but I vaguely recognized names like Purdey and A. H. Fox on the fine shotguns and Zeiss and Leica on the telescopic sights of the hunting rifles.

But I knew next to nothing about modern military weapons and skipped them, heading again toward that rear wall where Parks had hung various pictures and sports collectibles. I found where I’d left off earlier in the day and was soon looking at several rows of framed photos that began with the gunrunner at the Olympic Games in London and then one of him in Fenway Park on the Green Monster with a beer in one hand, his arm around a swarthy guy with a beard and sunglasses.

It had a date on it. The picture had been taken quite recently, back in September.How long ago did Toof say the neighbors saw Ibrahim? Could this be the same guy?

I was about to go upstairs and tell Mahoney about the photograph when I happened to glance down.

The picture below and left of the Fenway Park shot had been taken in Honolulu eight years before. It stopped me cold.

CHAPTER 59

UPON CAPTAIN DAVIS’S RELEASEfrom the federal lockup in Alexandria, his attorney told him that his home was still an FBI crime scene, so he should rent a hotel room with room service in DC and lay low until the media calmed down and the facts came out to fully exonerate him.

Furious at having been jailed and having his good name smeared, Davis had almost followed through on the advice. Instead, he decided he had to retrieve his car and get a few things out of his office at the Charles School.

When he arrived in an Uber, however, he found his car gone and a football game under way. He could hear the crowd roaring and then the announcer crowing, “Touchdown, Clint Maxwell! Touchdown, Charles School, on a bull-like five-yard run!”

Despite his foul mood at finding his car gone, Davis grinnedand had to fight not to run to the stadium and join the celebration over Maxwell’s touchdown. He’d been working with the sophomore fullback on keeping the ball tight to his body so he wouldn’t be stripped of it, and here he was, scoring against one of their fiercest rivals in a goal-line situation.

Davis sighed and went into the school and down a deserted hallway, heading for the field house.

“Coach Davis?” Nicholas Hampstead III said. “What are you doing here? Where do you think you’re going?”

Groaning internally, he turned to face the headmaster. “The feds released me for lack of evidence.”

Hampstead looked annoyed. “Well,” he said, “that’s all well and good for you, but I have recommended, and the board concurs, that you be terminated. Your services are no longer needed or welcome at the Charles School. We just can’t have that kind of negative publicity; it will do irreparable harm to our stellar reputation.”

Davis felt like decking the little puke but he kept his cool and said, “Again, I was released forlack of evidence. And now you can count on a lawsuit for wrongful termination. I’ll be seeking damages that will make your stellar bug eyes pop right out of their sockets.”

Hampstead’s shoulders tensed. “Get out. I have a thyroid condition.”

Davis heard a door shut somewhere. “Who cares, bug eyes? I’m going to my office and getting my things.”

The headmaster sputtered, “That office was sealed by the FBI, and you are leaving. Now. You are no longer the football coach of the Charles School, and I will call the police and have you forcibly removed if I have to.”

Davis caught a flicker of motion down the hall beyondHampstead and saw Fiona Plum standing just inside the front doors.

“See you in court, bug eyes,” Davis said and he brushed by the little man, heading toward the English teacher and the front door.

“We’ll countersue,” Hampstead called after him. “For damage to our reputation and brand.”

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