4 The Marathon Murders Read Online Free PDF Page B

Jill and I were discussing the possibilities, Wes Knight
called with the results of his file search.
    “I found something for you. A Kelli
Kane, the granddaughter of Arthur Liggett, a Nashville hospital administrator,
came to Nashville in nineteen eighty-four. She helped set up a congressional
hearing on public housing.”
    “Who was she working for?”
    “Congressman
Gerald Minchie of Seattle, Washington. She was
a staff assistant.”
    “Interesting. Did you find anything else?”
    “Looks like
that’s about it, Greg.”
    “Thanks, Wes. I really appreciate
it.”
    “No problem. Anything here I might
use in a story?”
    “Sorry, it’s just a routine thing.”
    “Well, keep me in mind next time you
turn up something juicy.”
    I gave him a bit of a chuckle.
“Wes, you’re on my speed dial under J for Juicy.”
    Jill digested that bit of news
while tapping a carefully manicured finger against her chin. My wife believes a
successful businesswoman pays close attention to her grooming. And though she
doesn’t pack her closet with expensive clothing, she keeps a careful watch on
things like fingernails and hair. Of course, the charter air service she ran
during my Air Force career didn’t require her to do a great deal of dressing
up.
    “Do you want to try Seattle or
Washington next?” she asked.
    “Washington,” I said, feeling it
offered more fertile ground.
    We hit pay dirt at The Washington
Post web site. A search on Kelli Kane not only fleshed out her career as a congressional
aide following graduation from the University of Washington, it revealed her
marriage in 1985 to a young diplomatic officer, John Hunter. A search on Hunter
turned up postings around Europe until 1996, when he was killed during a
terrorist incident in Italy. The trail ended for Kelli Kane Hunter about the
same time. It made sense. After her husband died at the hands of terrorists,
she was ripe for recruiting by a clandestine agency. It would take more than
our best reference channels to ferret out which shadowy group had coaxed her
into its ranks.
    At least now we knew a bit more
about the young woman whose ancestor we had been hired to track. I still had
one nagging question—what had Kelli meant by her “as long as I’ve known him”
comment about Arthur Liggett?
    I was still stewing around over
that one when Kelli called back, this time furious.
    “Now I know what that bastard was
doing!” She almost shouted into the phone.
    “Who?”
    “The louse who
tailed me to the nursing home.”
    “What was he doing?”
    “Making certain I was out of the
way. I’m glad I found these letters before I left. There’s no telling what
would have become of them.”
    “What happened?” I motioned for
Jill to get on the line.
    “Drawers dumped out on the floor,
cushions pulled off chairs and sofas, sheets stripped off the beds. I’d bet
they were looking for those papers Mr. Bradley promised to bring to us.”
    She may have been right, but what
in those1914 files could have prompted someone to go to such lengths was beyond
my imagination.
    “Have you called the police?” Jill
asked.
    Her reply came in a terse, “No. And
don’t you even think about calling them.”
    Jill’s eyes popped open wide.
“But—”
    “I suspect Kelli’s employer
wouldn’t be too happy if her name appeared in a police report,” I said.
    “You’ve got that right. Especially if it could lead to a newspaper story. Please
keep in mind that I want absolutely no publicity to come out of this.”
    I switched on my most reassuring
tone. “We always keep our clients’ identities confidential, unless they agree
to have it otherwise.”
    “There will be no otherwise in this
case.”
    I reached for a pen and pad. “I
think we’d better come take a look. What’s the address?”

Chapter 6
     
    Arthur Liggett lived in a large two-story brick off Blair
Boulevard, a main artery into an area of once genteel homes not far from the
sprawling Vanderbilt University