The SUV took the turn onto the drive that led to the carriage house. Collins pulled up and killed the engine.
Through the windshield, I could see the kitchen window of the carriage house lit from inside. Dane was at the window, looking out, waiting for the SUV he had just heard pull in.
I opened the door and got out into the rain.
Chapter seventeen
Dane
Five a.m., and the field office near Post Office Square ran cold the way Eamon kept it cold, low enough to bite through a wool coat. He said warm rooms made tired men sloppy. We had been tired for days.
Köhler sat alone in the interview room.
He had both hands wrapped around a paper coffee cup. He was in his late forties, narrow through the shoulders, with a salt-and-pepper close crop, and he sat very straight in the chair, still wearing his coat.
Eamon stood at my shoulder, arms folded, watching Köhler. He had Cabot’s confirmation on his phone. Reed had photographed Köhler at intake and sent the image to Collins at the carriage house. Collins had walked it in front of Cabot, and Cabot saidthat’s himwithout hesitation.
Cabot had not left the safehouse. He was with Farrow and Wiley.
“You run the interview,” Eamon said. “I’ll sit in. He came to us voluntarily, and he’s not in custody. He’s a witness who called our number. Treat him like that.”
“How did he have the number?”
“Henry gave it to him on Tuesday night.”
I let that sit.
Henry had walked into a café in the South End, knowing he might not walk out. Two nights before, he’d given his lover the number for The Guardians.
I set my coffee on the narrow shelf below the glass.
“Anything I shouldn’t ask?”
“Don’t ask him to relive the killing. He’ll get there. If he goes there too fast, we’ll lose him.”
“Understood.”
Eamon opened the door, and we went into the room.
Köhler looked up.
His eyes were a pale grey that read almost colorless under the warm bulbs. They were red around the rims. He looked at Eamon first, and then at me.
“Mr. Köhler, I’m Dane Fletcher. This is Eamon Price. You met Reed at the Common.”
“Yes.”
His voice was quiet. The accent was barely there.
“Thank you for coming in.”
“I had nowhere else to go.”
I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. I didn’t have a notebook or a phone on the table. Eamon took the chair at the end and folded his hands on the table.
“I’d like to ask you some questions. You can stop me at any time. You can leave at any time. We are not recording. If you want a recording, we’ll start one.”
Köhler nodded.