But Emma has already seen it in his face. She tosses the towel onto a chair. ‘What is it?’
‘Carter called. Kristin’s been negotiating in his office all morning.’ Travis can’t believe he’s saying this. ‘Her brother has new information about the College Killer case.’
Emma takes an unthinking step forward. ‘What information?’
‘Something about the Huxton videotapes. Gutmunsson says there’s a link. He says he’ll only provide details about it if we bring him to Pittsburgh.’
Emma presses her lips, releases them. ‘Simon can’t seriously believe—’
‘Carter’s doing it. He’s arranged prisoner transport from Byberry for this afternoon.’
She goes very still. ‘Simon’s getting out of Byberry.’
‘They’re gonna keep him at Allegheny County Jail.’
‘That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.’
Travis just looks at her. ‘Do you want to tell Kristin that?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The jail population intake area resembles a garage, because that is what it is. Emma stands beside Howard Carter in the cold metal guardhouse overlooking a set of stairs descending to the garage’s concrete floor, where a white GMC Transit van is parked, its rear bumper facing the platform.
Beyond the Transit van, the massive oak doors of the intake area are open, showing a rectangle of sky, a glimpse of normalcy on Forbes Avenue. Outside the jail, the clouds are low and purple: there’s the growling electric pulse of a coming storm.
Emma watches through the guardhouse viewing window as two Pennsylvania state troopers in gray shirts move to close the oak doors. She tries again with Carter, although she knows it’s impossible.
‘There’s still time.’ Her tone is restrained. ‘You could turn this van around and send it back to Byberry.’
Carter stands impassive in his most official suit. ‘Miss Lewis, I know you’ve had some bad experiences dealing with Simon Gutmunsson, but I guarantee you we’ll handle this in a methodical, orderly way. Before you know it, he’ll be back at Byberry awaiting his execution.’
Emma watches as the gap between the oak doors shrinks, shutting out sky and normalcy and freedom. The gap gets smaller, smaller, turns into a sliver …
Slams shut.
Emma lets out a shaky breath.
‘How are you feeling today?’ Carter asks.
Like I’ve been kicked in the head by a mule.‘Peachy.’ Emma closes her eyes against a wash of claustrophobia and the throb of a headache before turning again to Carter. ‘You still haven’t told me what it is about Simon’s information that makes this transfer so important.’
Carter straightens the chain of his glasses. ‘As I’ve explained, once we’ve had the opportunity to question Mr Gutmunsson further, I’ll call in both you and Mr Bell to discuss it.’
Emma firms her knees, steels herself. ‘Is this because it’s about the videotapes? Are you worried I’m going to flip out again, like yesterday?’
Carter gives her a loaded glance. ‘Miss Lewis, I can’t give you more just yet. But I can guarantee that Simon Gutmunsson’s information is pertinent to the College Killer investigation and it will be helpful for the case.’
‘Fantastic.’ Emma wants to rake her fingernails down her cheeks in frustration.
She’s distracted from the urge when four correctional officers with batons make a semicircle around the rear of the Transit van. At the top of the stairs, a SWAT officer with a rifle aims squarely at the van doors.
Emma clenches her teeth to stop them from chattering andwishes she’d thought to bring a thicker jacket. ‘You haven’t met Simon Gutmunsson before, have you?’
Carter shakes his head. ‘I haven’t, no.’
‘Well, if you’re committed to doing this, let me make some suggestions.’ Through the open doorway of the guardhouse, rounded like a submarine’s hatch, Emma can hear the muted crackle of handheld radios. ‘Put Simon far away from other inmates. Make sure the duty guards are briefed about him, and about his escape attempts. Make sure he’s not given any concessions.’
‘I’ve read the file,’ Carter says. ‘And I’ve been given advice from the warden at Byberry.’
