Shadow of the Wolf Tree by Joseph Heywood Read Free Book Online

terrible first impression.”
    As addled as she seemed to be, his gut told him she was good people, and that he needed to lighten up and ease her into the work.
    â€œOkay,” he said. “You’re a new detective, yes?”
    â€œThis is my first case.”
    â€œAnd you’re just off maternity leave. Boy or girl?”
    â€œFirstborn son,” she said. “Is there a proverb or something about that?”
    â€œNone that I know of. Sit down and relax. There’s no need to charge forward yet.”
    â€œBut someone was killed.”
    â€œOur hurrying won’t bring him back to life. Does your son have a name?”
    â€œShigun Wellington Friday,” she said. “My ex-husband’s aunt married a Nigerian soccer player by that name. The name was his idea, not mine. Go figure.”
    â€œSounds okay to me,” he said.
    She glared at him. “He’ll need a wheelbarrow to carry his name,” she said.
    It was Grady Service’s turn to laugh.
    Mike Millitor was Service’s age, with a bit of a paunch, white hair, and a neatly trimmed mustache. “Heard good things about you from del Olmo and Grinda,” the detective said to Service.
    Service introduced the two detectives.
    â€œWho has the lead?” Millitor asked.
    â€œIf this is some anti-fishing group,” Friday said, “I think that gives the lead to the DNR. I’ll take the homicide segment.”
    Service nodded, and after going through what had happened from his perspective, said, “Tuesday, you want to run your questions by us?”
    She went through them one at a time, and when they were done, the work was apportioned. Friday would look at the evidence, including the razor wire and fishing line used in the other booby traps, and try to establish the manufacturers, and, hopefully, the points of purchase—a real long shot. Millitor said he’d follow up on the shotguns.
    Service would look into the anti-fishing group. He knew he ought to contact the FBI, but decided to put that off until SuRo Genova got him an audience with Frodo the Finn.
    Working the Internet, he found several accounts of Frodo/Lidstrom’s crimes and got the name of a Boulder, Colorado, detective who had broken the case. It was clear from the tone of the news articles that the FBI had not been happy to share credit with Detective Sondra Orly. SOP with feds.
    A phone call to Boulder revealed that Detective Orly had retired and was now living in Aurora. He had to use his charm to get an address and phone number.
    â€œOrly,” she answered the phone.
    â€œDetective Grady Service, Michigan Department of Natural Resources,” he began.
    â€œIs Lidstrom in Dutch again?” Her voice was raspy from too many cigarettes.
    â€œNot that I know of. Why would you ask that?”
    â€œNice guy, but a follower, not a leader. I’m just hoping he can stay clean. I knew he was in Michigan.”
    â€œYou put him away?”
    â€œHe tumbled pretty darn easy. The FBI had all sorts of wacky theories, and when they got one of his prints, they wanted to set up surveillance to see if he would lead them to others, but I went directly to him and he caved right away.”
    â€œDid he lawyer up before he confessed?”
    â€œNope. Waived his rights, the state gave the case to a public defender, and that was that. We tried to make a deal for other names and so forth, but the PD wouldn’t let him go that way, so he got a full swing of the sledgehammer of justice.”
    â€œYou sound disappointed.”
    â€œI like Frodo. Nice guy, easily misled. No way he was the ringleader. Is he doing okay?”
    â€œFar as I know. How’d you know he was in Michigan?”
    â€œHe sent me a postcard. Some burg called Tunis, right?”
    â€œIt’s hardly a town.” He wasn’t sure what it was.
    Orly laughed. “That fits. Frodo’s not what you’d call a city guy.”
    â€œAre