“Hell, baby, when I go in that there courtroom you won’t hear nothin’ but Mississippi come out my damn mouth.”
She sat. “Now what you said about the Carsons is interestin’ and helpful. And it would be more helpful if your daddy would tell us whether he was out that night or not drivin’ in his Range Rover.”
Robie looked at his father. “Were you?”
Dan Robie simply looked away.
Robie turned back to Moses. “Can I get a copy of the file on this case? I assume the prosecution has to turn over its stuff to you.”
“Aubrey Davis had been duly informed of my appearance and he promised that his office will forthwith be sending me their evidence. I will not hold my breath while I wait. But when I get it so will you.”
Robie nodded. “Do you think you can get him out on bail?”
Moses shrugged. “Well, I need to see these credible threats Aubrey is going on about. Maybe we don’t want him out on bail.”
“Do you want to be out on bail?” Robie asked his father.
His father said nothing.
Robie rose. “Well, good luck with your client. When you get the files let me know.”
“Where are you goin’ now?” asked Moses.
“To check out some things.”
“Well, then report back to me with whatever you find.”
Right before Robie hit the door his father said, “If you’re doin’ this to make amends, don’t bother. It’s too damn late for that.”
Robie took a cue from his father and said nothing. He just left.
Moses turned to Dan Robie. “Whether you beat this or not, Dan Robie, let me tell you somethin’.”
“What?” snapped the man.
“You’re a damn fool.”
Chapter
29
IT WAS ONE o’clock in the morning and Will Robie was on the move. He preferred to do his work at night.
He had returned to the Willows and had dinner with Victoria and Tyler. The little boy had stared at his far older stepbrother the entire meal. Robie had once caught Tyler smiling at him.
Afterward, Victoria had shown Robie a picture that Tyler had drawn. It was stick figures, one big and one small, and a large heart was drawn between them.
“I guess you are officially loved,” said Victoria.
Robie had taken the picture, carefully folded it, and slipped it into his pocket.
When he’d told her about Moses meeting with them, she had asked, “Do you think he’ll seek bail?”
“Too early to tell. We need to evaluate the credible threats first.”
Now he stared up at the house. Clancy’s mansion. Dark and hopefully empty. He had seen Pete Clancy head out in his Porsche a half hour before. Probably to go drinking with his buds.
Robie made his approach from the rear. He had seen signs stuck in the ground announcing that there was a security system in place here. He doubted Pete would make use of such a thing, but he would need to check.
He reached the rear porch. The same one Pete had thrown up on. Robie noted with disgust that the vomit, hardened and dried out, was still there.
What a catch he would make for some young woman.
He peered through the glass and noted the alarm pad on the inner wall. It glowed green and thus off. He tried the door. Locked.
He pulled out his pick tools, and a minute later the door swung open.
His Glock was in a waistband holster. He hoped he had no cause to draw it.
He was here for a number of reasons, but principally because if his father had not killed Sherman Clancy, then his son Pete had a great motive to do so.
Money, or whatever was left of it.
There might be something here that would prove this, starting, hopefully, with a Ka-Bar knife with Sherm Clancy’s dried blood on it along with his son’s prints.
The place was garishly decorated. Every room was overstuffed with furniture, every window overwhelmed with huge drapes, every table bursting with expensive and ugly knickknacks, and every wall covered with oil paintings of questionable taste.
And since Pete was now the master of the house, it was also trashed. Empty beer, wine, and liquor bottles were everywhere. Crusted dishes were piled high in the sink. Bugs scampered over them. The fridge was pretty much empty.
Yet Sherman Clancy had not been dead that long. And the pool and grounds had clearly been left to fall into disrepair for a much longer time. Robie thus assumed a lot of this had been going on while the old man was alive.
Was the pot of gold running out? If so, why? Taggert had said Clancy had been a big spender. Was that the reason? Or was there something else?
The house was large and there were many places to look, and Robie was one to be methodical. After an hour or so he finished with the first floor and headed up the winding staircase. The second floor was all bedrooms and bathrooms. He searched each one and found nothing useful.
There was one more floor to go.
There were five rooms up here. One was a club room with a full bar, pool table, steam and sauna room, and a hot tub that looked like it was actually clean and operating normally. Robie thought Pete might bring some of the ladies up here for a quick steam, sauna, and dip in the hot tub. And probably more than that.
He hoped the chlorine level in the water was set on high.
One room was set up as an office. Robie took his time going through this one. There was a desk lamp with a frayed power cord. Robie turned it on and drew it closer to some paper files he had found, moving a half-full can of Budweiser out of the way.
He took pictures of these files. There was also a computer. It was password protected, but Robie finally hit the jackpot when he typed in “Redneck.”
Pete had evidently been using this computer, because he saw e-mails coming in and out from Pete’s account.
It appeared that since Sherm’s death, his son had been contacting various folks at one of the casinos in Biloxi named the Rebel Yell Grand Palace. As he read through these e-mails, it became clear to him that Pete was angling to replace his father as a business partner with these folks.
That could be a terrific motive to kill the old man.
Robie copied these e-mails to a flash drive he had brought. He also copied other e-mails that he didn’t have time to read but that looked interesting. He would read them later.
The next room was apparently Pete’s sleeping quarters.
It was like one would have expected from a young man living alone.
Disgusting.
Robie wondered whether his tetanus shot was up-to-date as he surveyed the interior of the room. He couldn’t see the floor for all the crap