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First the private dive team showed up, about an hour later. It’s amazing how fast you can mobilize people when you promise to pay them $200,000.
“My guys found something,”the captain of the dive boat said over Sebastian’s cell phone. “About 100 feet from the shore. Definitely a limo. We don’t want to bother it, though, because if it’s evidence in a crime…”
“Fine,” Sebastian said. “How on earth did it get 100 feet from shore, though?”
“It floated. Somebody must’ve sent it roaring off the dock, and it floated for a little bit while the air was escaping from the inside.”
Then the police came, with their boats and a massive truck with a winch. Then, finally, Detective Morse arrived – the man who had arrested Connor at the funeral.
“This is interesting,” he said brusquely as he walked up. “You just happen to have a lead on where some bodies might be found?”
“I don’t like what you’re implying, Detective,” Bert said.
“We paid our own private detective,” I said.
“Lily,” Bert tried to shush me.
“Who was this private detective?” Morse asked. “And how did he find the location?”
“Anonymous tip,” Bert lied outright. “We’ll be happy to give you the information you need after the exculpatory evidence is examined.”
“If this evidence wasn’t found by legitimate means, it may be inadmissible in court,” Morse said.
“The limo’s at the bottom of the fuckin’ river,” Bert said. “I think it passes the reasonable expectation of privacy test.”
“Still – ”
“Whose side are you on?” I shouted. “An innocent man’s – who you arrested – or the murderer’s?”
“You better watch it, lady,” Morse said. “Or you might find yourself getting charged right alongside your future hubbie.”
“Quit harassing my client,” Bert barked.
“Coming up!” a cop yelled as the chain clanked and the rear end of the limo broke through the surface of the water.
Suddenly all our arguments were forgotten. Everyone watched with gut-churning anticipation as the limo was slowly towed up onto the rocky shore, and the cops unlocked the back door.
Water gushed out, and an arm fell out limply across the seat. Luckily it was still attached to its owner.
The cops looked inside. “We got multiple bodies!” one of them yelled.
“Oh God,” I whispered, afraid to keep looking, but unable to turn my eyes away.
They pulled the corpses out onto body bags laid on the rocks.
Despite the horrible swelling of their features, I knew two of them right away:
Marta and Vincenzo.
Both of them had small, bloodless circles in their foreheads.
Bullet holes.
I vomited amongst the rocks.
Three other bodies were pulled from the limo, as well – all men, none of whom I recognized. The cops fished out wallets from all three bodies and read off the names.
