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Gus bristled. “That’s not possible. The case isn’t closed.”
“Apparently, they were lost.”
“All the evidence or just the notes?”
“Just the notes…which means there is no evidence that Afterlife is Theo’s story.”
“That’s not true—there’s you and me.”
“I don’t know that we’d make credible witnesses.”
Gus shook it off. “Look, I don’t think it matters…it isn’t theft. This is Theo.”
Mac did not contradict him. “You know, that night, when you were shot and I was arrested, Theo was also picked up for questioning.”
“That must have been when they talked her into confessing.”
“That’s the thing.” Mac handed Gus a flash drive. “Have a look at the transcript of interview.”
Gus was accustomed by now to Mac keeping information he’d acquired through unconventional channels on easily disposable devices in case his computers and files were ever seized again. Gus opened the file. It was only two pages long. “That’s it?”
“Yes…it seems the interview was cut short on compassionate grounds—to allow Theo to see you before you died, I expect.”
“Who is this guy Alexander Wilson? Did you retain him?”
“Nope—no idea who he is or who called him.” Mac used Gus’s laptop to pull up the files they obtained years ago when they were looking for Theo. “She came into the hospital at four in the morning, six hours after she’d left the police station. By that time you’d come out of surgery. According to this, she sat with you for three hours until you were taken back into the OR to stop postoperative internal bleeding.”
Gus nodded. “I remember. I must have regained consciousness at some point.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“That she was sorry, that she loved me.” He grimaced. “If you want to terrify someone in hospital, tell them that you love them. I thought I was dying.”
Mac smiled. “You were. But do you think there was more to it? Could Theo have been saying goodbye for some other reason?”
“She looked terrified…not generally my-brother-has-been-shot-and-my-friends-arrested terrified. She looked what the law would call in fear of an immediate and present danger. Though,” Gus conceded, “I’m not sure how clearly I was thinking at the time.”
“I’m inclined to trust your instincts, all things considered.”
“And she left that book,” Gus added. “A young adult novel by Jack Chase. I sent it to her when she was fourteen or close enough to. It was a good luck charm or something equally daft.”
“I presume the police still have that.”
Gus nodded. “So where does this leave us?”
Mac stared at the screen. “I think we find this guy Alexander Wilson, and then we talk to Day Delos and Associates.”
The offices of Wilson Freeman were in New York, where they occupied two floors in the upper part of the skyline. Getting an interview with Alexander Wilson had proved difficult. In the end, Bernadette had set it up through one of Mac’s companies.
“What exactly does Bolt Hole Pty Ltd do?” Gus asked as the cab pulled up in front of the appropriate skyscraper. As involved as he was in the legal management of Mac’s assets, it wasn’t necessary for him to be familiar with what exactly each company did. Mac Etheridge’s holdings were quite vast and diversified.
“We build and install underground bunkers.”
“For the military?”
“Them, too, but mostly for preppers. They’re basically hideouts for doomsday theorists.”
“Surely there can’t be much of a market for—”
