The Name

Detective Reeves came to her apartment that evening.

Liza spread the letter on the kitchen table. Reeves read it twice, slowly, the way Liza had read it — first for content, then for detail.

"Meadowbrook Care Center in Wilmington," she said, making a note. "Room 214. Peter Voss." She looked up. "This is a living witness, Liza. The letter from the storage unit was a document — useful, but it could be challenged. This is a person who says he was there."

"The letter said he had a stroke. He can barely write."

"That doesn't make him less credible. It makes him more — he's telling you something he waited years to tell because he couldn't tell it until now." Reeves tapped the letter. "Martin Calloway. Can you place that name?"

"No."

"We'll run it. If he's in this county, we'll find him." She paused. "Liza, I need to tell you something. When the prosecutor declined the fraud case, they said there was no living witness who could place Drake at the scene of the crime. This is a living witness. A living witness who says there were three people involved, not just Raymond Drake."

"Two are dead."

"Raymond Drake is dead. Peter Voss is alive. The third person — Calloway — according to this letter is also alive." She looked at Liza steadily. "This changes things."

Liza thought about what it meant that Peter Voss had written this letter. That he had spent two months composing it, relearning how to write after a stroke, because he had something to say and he had been afraid to say it for thirty years.

"Why now?" she said.

"What?"

"Why is he coming forward now? If he's been in that nursing home for six years — if he knew about this for decades — why write to me specifically now?"

Reeves was quiet for a moment.

"He says he saw your name in a court document. The restraining order case — it's public record."

"Which means Drake's name is in it too."

"Which means Voss knows about your situation and thinks there's a connection." Reeves paused. "Or he knows something we don't."

Liza looked at the letter on the table. She thought about Martin Calloway — the name, the idea of him, someone who had been watching her, someone who had been in on the fire with Raymond Drake, someone who was dangerous. She'd never heard that name before. She didn't know who he was or why he would be watching her or what he wanted.

But she knew what Drake wanted. And she was starting to think that what Drake wanted and what Martin Calloway wanted might be the same thing.

"Find him," she said. "Find Martin Calloway."

"We're on it." Reeves stood up and took the letter — carefully, by the edges, the way you handled evidence. "I'll be in touch."