Hour Game

"Had he ever mentioned that he was seeing Janice Pembroke?" asked Michelle.

"Steve didn't confide in me. If the kid was screwing around with some slut, that was his business. He was seventeen with raging hormones. But if he'd gotten some girl pregnant, I would have been more than upset."

"How long ago did your wife die?" asked Michelle.

Canney's gaze dropped from the ceiling to her. "Why is that relevant?"

"Just curious."

"Well, confine your curiosity to the matter at hand."

"Okay, can you think of anything at all that Steve might have told you or that you might have overheard him say, or even one of his friends mention, that could shed some light on his murder?" she asked.

"Look, I already told you that we weren't exactly chums. We lived in the same house, but that was about it."

"Is there a reason why you and your son weren't close?" asked King.

"We both had our reasons, and they're not pertinent to his death."

"I'm afraid we need to decide that for ourselves. So if you'd answer the question…"

"I'm afraid I must decline," Canney said acidly.

"Well, that's up to you. Let's review what you've said. You and your son had what could reasonably be construed as an openly hostile relationship. You were perhaps upset that he was dating some slut, as you called her, and were concerned you'd have to pay for a child at some point. And then Steve and this ‘slut' end up shotgunned to death. Do you own a shotgun, sir?"

Canney stood, his pale face now flushed. "What the hell are you implying? How dare you! You've twisted my words all around."

King remained impassive. "No. I'm simply making the argument any competent prosecutor would. What you've told us makes you a possible suspect in your son's death. I'm sure you were asked about your whereabouts when he was killed. I'd like you to tell us as well."

"I was home asleep."

"Alone?"

"Yes!"

"So you have no alibi," concluded King. "Well"-he looked at Michelle-"let's go report back. At least it's another line of investigation the FBI can actively pursue." He looked back at Canney. "I'm sure the Bureau will be contacting you. Please make no plans to leave the area in the near future." He started to rise.

Canney, looking pale again, said, "Wait a minute, wait just a damned minute. I had nothing to do with Steve's murder."

"With all due respect, Mr. Canney, I never met a murderer who said otherwise," replied King.

Canney stood there, clenching and unclenching his hands while King watched him expectantly. Finally, Canney sat back down.

After a minute of silence, as though he were searching for just the right words, he said, "Steve was, quite simply, his mother's child. He adored her, worshiped her. When she died, he somehow blamed me."

"I don't recall what she died of," said King.

Canney was now rubbing his hands together nervously.

"She was in a car accident, well over three years ago now. She ran off the road and into a ravine. Died instantly."

"How could your son possibly blame you for that?" Michelle wanted to know.

"How the hell am I supposed to know!" roared Canney suddenly, and then just as quickly he calmed. "I'm sorry. As you can appreciate, this is all very difficult." They all remained silent for a bit. "There… there apparently was alcohol involved," Canney finally said in a very low voice.

"Your wife was intoxicated when she was killed?"

"Apparently so. It was surprising, because she'd never been a heavy drinker."

"And your marriage was a happy one?" asked Michelle.

"It was a marriage much like many others," said Canney defensively.

"Meaning?" persisted Michelle.

"Meaning it had its ups and downs."

At that moment the housekeeper entered the room and told Canney he had a phone call. He excused himself and went out of the room.

Michelle turned to her partner. "Well, that wasn't exactly what I was expecting. Do you think he had something to do with his wife's death?"

"I can't rule it out."

"He's definitely holding something back. You think he killed his son?"

"Son. That's an interesting word."

She looked at him puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Only that Canney never referred to him as his son. Just Steve."

"That's right. Although it might just be because Steve was almost a man, and the relationshipwas strained."

"No, I think he might have given us the answer."

"Okay, Sean. What was it?"

"He was explaining why their relationship had gone wrong. He said Steve blamed him for his mother's death."

"So?"

"Well, right before that he said…" King pulled out his notepad and read from it. "He said, ‘Steve was, quite simply, his mother's child.'"

"Right, meaning he favored his mother over his father."

"Or, more literally, that she was his mother-" King stopped and looked at Michelle.

His point finally dawned on her. "And Roger Canney was not his father."

Outside, the pickup truck started up. The man had heard all he needed to. It was time to act. But first he had to lay the groundwork.

CHAPTER 48