Chapter 53
On Beth’s birthday, Reid drove to New London to meet Tom for lunch. He had plenty to keep him busy at his desk, but the date made him uneasy, and he really needed to get away from the office. He had been sure he would have wrapped up the case by now. He had wanted it for Beth.
He parked in the Saint Ignatius Loyola Church parking lot at the end of Bank Street—just a few blocks from Kate’s loft.
He walked slowly toward the Black Whale, keeping his eyes open for her.
He had told Tom to meet here because Tom was lecturing at the Coast Guard Academy this week, and New London would be convenient for him.
But he knew there was another reason. He hadn’t spoken to Kate in over two weeks; he felt ashamed of having nothing to report, but he wanted to run into her.
The place was packed with people from the courthouse up the street—lawyers, defendants, jurors, cops. Reid recognized half of them and said hello as he made his way through the restaurant. He spotted his brother in his Coast Guard uniform, sitting in a booth in the back.
“Hey,” he said, sliding into his seat.
“Thanks for meeting for lunch,” Tom said. “I was surprised to hear from you. You’ve been so busy.”
“I needed a break,” Reid said.
The waitress came over, and they both ordered fish and chips. Reid asked for a coffee.
“What’s going on?” Tom asked.
“Nothing, and that’s the problem,” Reid said, drinking the instant the waitress set down the cup, burning his mouth. “Ouch.”
Tom watched him, and Reid recognized the expression: half-amused, half-concerned.
“Here,” Tom said, reaching into his glass of water, fishing out a handful of ice cubes. “It’ll stop the burn. An old Coast Guard trick.”
Reid took the cubes, nodded across the table. Tom never stopped being an older brother. He thought about siblings, how strong the bond was. He wondered how Kate was handling the day. It must have shown on his face.
“What’s going on?” Tom asked. “You okay?”
“It’s Beth’s birthday.”
“Oh, man,” Tom said, leaning forward, watching Reid.
“Probably a really hard day for Kate and Sam,” Reid said.
“And you too?” Tom asked.
“A little,” Reid said. “But let’s talk about something else. How was teaching?”
“I’m done for the day,” Tom said. “It’s always good to be at the Academy, see the kids coming along.”
“So the Coast Guard will be in good shape with the next generation?” Reid asked.
Their platters of fish and chips arrived, and he realized he didn’t feel hungry.
He sat back, listening to Tom talk about the seamanship class he’d just taught.
It made him think of sextants and celestial navigation and the astronomy professor at Osprey House, and when he glanced toward the lunch counter, there he was.
“The astronomer,” Reid said.
“Who?” Tom asked, his mouth full.
“Martin Harris,” Reid said. “The guy I told you about? Who knew too much about Beth’s crime scene?”
“Right—connected to Pete by the stars,” Tom said.
“Give me a minute,” Reid said. He left his brother sitting there and walked around the counter, right through the swinging door into the kitchen. It was a small space that smelled like fried food, noisy with clattering dishes and the hiss of the griddle.
Martin Harris carried a big rectangular gray plastic bin full of dirty dishes from out front, placed it in a deep stainless-steel sink, and turned on the water.
Reid waved at Alma, the cook. They knew each other from his many lunches at the detectives’ table over the years.
He raised his eyebrows in a question, pointed at Harris, and she nodded her okay. Thanks, he mouthed.
“Mr. Harris,” Reid said.
Harris glanced over his shoulder, his eyes as bloodshot as ever.
“I’m working,” he said.
“I see that,” Reid said. “I only want a few minutes of your time. Your boss doesn’t mind. Let’s step outside.”
Harris looked over at Alma, who was busy at the stove. He led Reid out the back door into an alley. It ran the length of the block behind the church. People were milling around outside the parish house, lining up. He realized they were waiting to go into the soup kitchen.
“That’s where you eat sometimes, right?” Reid asked.
“Yes, it is,” Harris said.
“It’s strange to me, Martin, that when I asked you about Beth Lathrop, you didn’t mention you ate there. Because she worked there.”
“Yeah, she and her friend. Two nice ladies from a fancy town,” Harris said. “Serving food to people like us. Who’d a thunk?”
“So you did know Beth.”
“Not really,” Harris said. “Yes, I’d see her at meals sometimes, and she was really nice. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t do anything, and I knew you’d think something bad.”
Reid didn’t say anything, held his emotions inside. But he thought of Beth feeding Martin Harris, being kind to him, having no idea of the kind of crimes he had committed, making herself vulnerable to what he could do to her.
“We never got together outside here or anything,” Harris said, sounding nervous. “I barely even talked to her, just thanked her for the food. I hang out more with her friend.”
“Jed Hilliard?” Reid asked.
“Who, that artist guy?” Harris asked. “I know him from here, but we’re not friends or anything.”
“Then who is it you hang out with?”
“You know, the other lady from Black Hall. She’s really nice. She buys us drinks once in a while, and she’ll join us.” He laughed. “She’s a hoot.” Then a serious look crossed his face. “But she is really broken up.”
“About what?”
“Beth, of course. They were so close. You could tell, just seeing them here. When she talks about what happened . . .” Harris closed his eyes tight, as if it was too awful for him to contemplate.
“What does she talk about?” Reid asked, feeling sweat run down his back.
“The death. What was done to Beth. The bruises. Those bone chips, pearls in the blood. The lace around her neck, the way it dug in . . .”
These were the things Harris had said before that had caused Reid to suspect he had been at the crime scene, or that Pete had told him about it.
Harris was practically salivating now, and Reid saw him in the grips of a fantasy, made more thrilling by the fact the ingredients had come from someone so close to Beth.
“Did she tell you how she knew those details?” Reid asked.
“No, and I didn’t even ask. She’s tight with the family. I figured Beth’s sister told her, or you did, or someone involved with the investigation. I was just happy to listen.”
I bet you were, Reid thought.
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Harris,” Reid said, filled with urgency, knowing what he had to do. He left him standing there in the alley and ran back into the Black Whale to tell his brother he had somewhere to be.