The Sixth Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

Michelle.
    The lieutenant said, “So you two are private investigators?”
    Sean nodded. “Bergin engaged us to help with the Edgar Roy case.”
    “Help with what? Man’s as guilty as they come.”
    “Just like you said, not for us to decide,” said Sean.
    “You licensed in Maine?”
    “We’ve filed the paperwork and paid the fee,” said Sean. “Waiting to hear back.”
    “So that’s a no? You’re not licensed?”
    “Well, we haven’t done any investigative work yet. Just found out about the job. We filed as fast as we could. The jurisdictions where we’re licensed have reciprocity with Maine. It’s just a formality. We’ll get the approval.”
    “People looking to be PIs need some sort of special background. What’s yours? Military? Law enforcement?”
    “United States Secret Service,” said Sean.
    The lieutenant eyed Sean and then Michelle with a new level of respect. His men did the same.
    “Both of you?”
    Sean nodded.
    “Ever guard the president?”
    “Sean did,” said Michelle. “I never got to the White House before I left the Service.”
    “Why’d you leave?”
    Sean and Michelle exchanged brief glances.
    Sean said, “Had enough. Wanted to do something else.”
    “Fair enough.”
    Forty-five minutes later another car pulled up. The lieutenant looked over and said, “That’s Colonel Mayhew. Must’ve put the pedal to the metal, think he was over near Skowhegan tonight.”
    He hurried off to greet his commander in chief. The colonel was tall and broad shouldered. Though in his fifties, he had retained his trim figure. His eyes were calm and alert, his manner brisk and businesslike. He looked, Sean thought, like a Hollywood-inspired poster for police recruitment.
    He was briefed on the situation, took a look at the body, then came over to them. After introductions Mayhew said, “When was the last time you had contact with Mr. Bergin?”
    “Phone call earlier today, around five thirty p.m. A little while before we got on the plane.”
    “What did he say?”
    “That he was going to meet us at the B-and-B where we’re staying.”
    “And where is that?”
    “Martha’s Inn near Machias.”
    The colonel nodded approvingly. “It’s comfortable, food’s good.”
    “Nice to hear,” said Michelle.
    “Anything else from Bergin? E-mails? Texts?”
    “Nothing. I checked before we got on the plane. And then when we landed. I tried calling him around nine o’clock but he didn’t answer. It went right to voice mail and I left a message. Any idea how long he’s been dead?”
    The colonel ignored this. “See any other cars?”
    Sean said, “None, other than Bergin’s. Pretty lonely stretch of road. And we didn’t see any evidence of another car having pulled up to his, although unless it leaked some fluid there probably wouldn’t be leave-behind trace.”
    “So you have no idea where he might have been going tonight?”
    “Well, I presume he was going to meet us at Martha’s Inn.”
    “Do you know where Bergin was staying? At Martha’s?”
    “No, she didn’t have any more rooms, apparently.” Sean searched his pockets and pulled out his notebook. He flipped through some pages.
    “Gray’s Lodge. That’s where he was staying.”
    “Right, know that one too. It’s closer to Eastport. Not as nice as Martha’s place.”
    “I guess you get around,” said Michelle.
    “I guess I do,” replied the colonel impassively. He looked over at the car. “Only thing is, if Bergin were coming from the direction of Eastport, his car would have been going in the opposite direction. You were coming from the southwest. Eastport is to the north and east. And he never would have come this far. The turnoff for Martha’s is five miles further on this road.”
    Sean looked over at the vehicle and then at the colonel. “I don’t know what to tell you. That’s how we found him. Car was pointed the same way as ours.”
    “Complicated,” said the lawman.
    Sean looked over as a black