point about the gun. It was a .357 revolver. I had to read this part of the report twice because I didn’t fully understand. “No robber in his right mind comes in with a piece like that. It was an antique. These guys acted like professionals, but the killer had this cowboy six-shooter.”
Robert had been in the army and knew a lot about guns. He’d tried to get me to take shooting lessons and buy one for protection in the house. Since the information about the gun was the only thing I’d learned new, I wrote it all down verbatim. The ballistics report was beyond my comprehension, and I didn’t need to read the autopsy to determine the cause of death. I stacked up the reports and went to thank Sergeant Vesley. He was waiting for me with a cup of coffee and a kindly smile.
“It’s been two years,” he said. “Why now?”
“I don’t know.” I couldn’t tell him I was being haunted. “Maybe it’s the last step in putting it all behind me.”
“I hope so, Mrs. Devlin. I’d hate to see you turn into one of those people who avoid life by burying themselves in the details of death.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
Since I was downtown, I decided to stop by the liquor store and talk with Robert. The store had changed. Burglar bars had been installed over the windows and doors, and there was a buzzer system to announce the arrival of customers. Even through the bars and glass I could see that Robert had changed as much as I. Threads of gray ran through his hair. He was older, more cautious. He buzzed me in with a wary look.
“Emma!”
Before I knew what had happened, I was engulfed in a bear hug. “I’ve been thinking about you for the past month. I’d just wake up in the middle of the night with this uneasy feeling. Martha said I should call and check on you, but I didn’t want to resurrect any bad memories.”
“You wouldn’t have, Robert. I’ve been thinking about you, too. I wanted to talk to you.”
He went to the front door, locked it, flipped the sign to Closed and pulled the shade. “What can I do for you?” He signaled me into the storage room where he kept a small office complete with an extra chair.
“I just read the police report on Frank’s death. You were adamant about the type of gun the killer used.”
Robert’s dark gaze locked with mine. He twisted the right side of his mustache. “What are you up to, Emma?”
“There are things about Frank’s death that trouble me. I wanted to check them out, to draw my own conclusions. Then, maybe…”
“You can get on with your life.” He nodded. “There are things that trouble me, too.”
“What was it about the gun?”
“Wait a minute and I’ll show you.” He left the room and returned in a moment with a pistol. He snapped a piece from the handle and held it out. “This is a clip. Automatic. Shoots very fast. The night Frank was killed, the killer had a revolver. You know, the gun with a round cylinder that rotates to put the bullet in the chamber. Reloading with a revolver is much harder than with an automatic. In an automatic, the bullet is already in position and it moves up through spring action. Most criminals just carry pre-loaded clips. When one is empty, they pop it out and put in another clip.”
What he said made sense, to an extent. “Maybe that was the only gun he had.”
“I just don’t understand it. It was a really fine gun. A Smith & Wesson, blue steel, hand-carved grip. An antique. Killers like those punks wouldn’t carry a piece because of its aesthetic value or the history of it. He could have sold that piece and made enough to buy several automatics. Most times killers drop the piece anyway. They want something cheap.”
He had a point. “Was there anything else? What about the man with the gun? Did he have a diamond in his ear, or any type of jewelry that might tell why he was called Diamond?”
“He was wearing that mask. I couldn’t see anything.” Robert took a breath. “Emma, I’ve thought about it over and over again. I should have been able to stop it. I should have…”
I went to him and put my hands on his shoulders. “Stop it, Robert. There wasn’t anything that you or I could have done. Frank, either. I’ve thought about it, too. I wondered why he couldn’t let them take the woman, why he had to try to step in. And the answer is, that was the kind of man he was. Neither of us would have cared for him as much had he been any different.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Keep thinking this through.”
“What are you looking for, Emma? The police said they never got any kind of lead. I called them every day for almost a year.”
“I’m thinking that there may have been more here than just a simple robbery-murder. I don’t know how or why, but maybe those robbers were in this store on that night for a specific reason. You could help me by thinking along those lines.”
“You’re saying it was a setup, specifically to kill Frank?”
Robert’s eyes were wide with shock. It did sound preposterous. Robberies happened all the time. People got killed because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was easier to believe than deliberate murder.
“I’m not saying that it’s true. I’m just saying that I’m thinking about the possibilities.”
“Why, Emma? Why? Who would do such a thing?”
“I don’t have a clue. As I said, I’m just looking and thinking. Maybe you could talk to the other store owners in this neighborhood. See what kind of robberies they’ve had. See how many turned violent. That kind of thing. Frank was on the floor. He was defenseless. They could have knocked him unconscious or wounded him. They didn’t have to kill him.”
Robert nodded. “I’ll canvass the neighborhood. Want me to call you?”
“No, I’ll call you. I’m going to be hard to catch these next few days.”
“Emma, have you uncovered something?”
Robert’s hand on my shoulder was strong, supportive. “No. Nothing like that. It’s just a feeling.”
“I know what you mean. For the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking more and more about it.”
“I’ll be in touch, Robert.”
I pulled up the shade and flipped the sign to Open as I went out. Although I’d learned nothing, I felt a kernel of hope growing larger and larger. Robert was feeling something, too.
On the spur of the moment I decided to check out the woman who’d been in the liquor store that night. I had her address from her statement, and I thought Laree Emrick might have some new details to add.
The neighborhood was off Northside Drive, a good distance from downtown. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing in Robert’s store when she could have shopped in her own neighborhood. I knew I had no right to blame her for anything, yet my entire life might be different if she’d gone to another store that night. Might be different. If Frank was deliberately murdered, then Laree Emrick had not even really played a role in the
