The ME looked up. “I can’t say for sure if it was suicide or not. Forensics can only go so far.”

Sean remarked, “Your report says that the wound was a near contact, not a contact wound. Also there are no defensive injuries on the victim or evidence that he was bound. Someone getting that close to the guy with the gun and him not defending himself? That’s a little implausible.”

“Could’ve been drugged,” Hayes suggested.

“Which was my next question,” Sean said. “What’s the tox report say?”

“Don’t have it back yet.”

“So we really can’t rule out suicide,” Sean said. “And if he did kill himself, why at Camp Peary? Any connection between him and the CIA? Did he ever work there? Did he want to but got rejected?”

Hayes shook his head. “We haven’t run that down yet.” He turned to the ME. “Do you have an approximate time of death on Rivest yet?”

“He wasn’t in the water all that long. Maybe five to six hours. There was what looked to be hemorrhagic edema fluid in his mouth. That indicates he died by drowning. When I open him I’ll be able to confirm that of course by water in his lungs.”

Hayes consulted his wristwatch. “Five to six hours. Based on when the body was discovered, if he wasn’t in the tub all that long before he drowned we’re looking at between one to two o’clock in the morning as the time of death.”

“Not that long after I left him,” Sean said. And that tallies with the time I might have seen Champ come home. “He’d had a lot to drink,” Sean volunteered. “Cocktails and some red wine.”

The ME noted this down. “Thanks.”

“Could he have been drunk enough to just pass out and drown himself? Wouldn’t the water going in his mouth and nose have woken him up?” Hayes asked.

The ME shook his head. “If he was unconscious from too much alcohol, the shock of the water would not have necessarily revived him.”

“I left him pretty much passed out. I wonder what made him decide to take a bath after he came to?” Sean said.

The ME said, “Maybe he threw up and decided to get cleaned up.”

Sean shook his head. “You’ve got puke all over you, you’re not going to wait for the bathtub to fill up. You’d jump in the shower.” As soon as he said it, Sean froze.

“Good point,” Hayes said, not catching the look on Sean’s face.

Back in the car Hayes said, “Where to now?”

Sean didn’t try to conceal his excitement. “I want to have another look at that bathroom. Something just occurred to me.”

“Like what?”

“I know that Len Rivest was murdered.”

CHAPTER 27

WHEN THEY GOT BACK to Len Rivest’s house, Sean led the way to the bathroom and stopped at the doorway.

He said, “I came in here last night around eleven or eleven-fifteen to use the toilet. This is the only bathroom in the place.”

“Okay,” Hayes said expectantly. “And?”

“And was anything removed from the bathroom by any of your men or the FBI?”

“No. Only the body’s been removed. Why?”

“Well, look around, what’s missing?”

Hayes studied the interior of the small place. “I give up. What?”

“There are no towels, no washcloths.” He pointed at the floor. “And no bath mat. Now all those things were in this room when I was here last night. And there’s something else.” He walked over to the commode and looked behind it. “There was a long, wooden-handled plunger here too. Only it’s not here now.”

Hayes said, “So you’re saying…?”

Sean knelt on the floor and ran his hand along the tile and then along the wall above the tub. “Damp, but not soaked.” He stood. “I’m saying you have to take the towels if you used them to wipe up the water that would have splashed on the floor and walls while you were struggling with Rivest.”

“And the plunger?”

Sean pantomimed gripping something in his hand and standing next to the tub. “You don’t want to hold Rivest under with your hands. He can reach you that way and maybe get some of your DNA or clothing fiber under his fingernails. But if you place a long-handled plunger on his chest, you can hold him down without him being able to get to you.”

“Damn!”

“But everything’s going to get soaked that way. So you have to take the towels, mat, plunger with you otherwise the police will see them, deduce a struggle and we go from accidental drowning to murder. Rivest may have come up here to take a bath and just settled in when the killer struck. If he hadn’t been drunk he might still be alive.”

“So if he was still drunk and the killer used the plunger, we can’t rule out that it was a woman who did it.”

Sean looked at him shrewdly. “That’s right. Call the ME and tell him to check for a circular ring on Rivest’s chest or stomach. A plunger might have made an abrasion that can still be seen under the scope. And also tell him to check for fragments of wood from the plunger handle under his fingernails.”

Hayes whipped out his cell phone and made the call while Sean continued to poke around.

After the sheriff finished his call he smiled at Sean. “I left a message. I gotta say, my decision to partner up with you is really starting to look smart.”

“Don’t get too excited. Knowing that a man was murdered and finding out who killed him is, to borrow a line from Mark Twain, the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning. Now we need to really canvass the place and find out if anyone saw someone leaving Rivest’s last night. There’s security all over the place. Someone had to see something. Especially if my theory is correct and the person was leaving with a bunch of wet towels and a plunger.”

“Will do. Anything else?”

Sean held an internal debate and said, “I was down at the banks of the York this morning, around six-thirty or so. I wanted to have a look at the boathouse and take a recon of the area. Somebody took a couple shots at me with a high-powered rifle. That’s what I was coming to tell Len.”

Hayes gaped at him. “Where’d the shots come from?”

“Maybe from across the river.”

“Camp Peary?” Sean nodded. “And Monk Turing was found dead on Camp Peary property,” Hayes said slowly.

Sean could easily read the man’s mind. Did the rural sheriff want to get mixed up in something that involved the CIA. Yet if Monk Turing and Len Rivest had been killed by the folks across the river the question was why. And Sean King had to admit, it was a very intriguing question. The only thing, was he willing to risk his life to get the answer?

“And I can’t be sure of it, but I think it’s possible that I saw Champ Pollion returning to his cottage around two this morning.”

“But you can’t be sure?”

Sean shook his head. “I couldn’t testify to it. It was too dark. But it’s still something we need to check out when we do our alibi canvass. Oh, one more thing. I understand that Monk traveled outside the country about eight or nine months ago. We need to find out where he went.”

“The Bureau has his passport and personal effects.”

“You’re the sheriff down here. Ask for copies.”

“You think it could be important?”

“Right now everything is important.”

Sean walked back out into the bright sunshine and wondered when, if ever, his life would come close to being normal.He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around.

Alicia Chadwick was standing there looking very upset. “We need to talk.

Now!”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll take off my metal leg and beat you to death with it.”

“I wouldn’t want you to have that on your conscience. Let’s go.”