“Yes, those. The ones that had been in my basement earlier that evening—the reason Strout was late to our rendezvous in the park. With DeShazo looking on, held in place by the threatening revolver, demanding to know who we were while Strout waved him off like a pestering fly, Strout explained how, during our first encounter—when I shouted at him from my window—a short trail of dirt leading from the edge of Kerry’s garden to my house had made him suspicious. They weren’t muddy footprints, since... it hadn’t rained, rather more of a “scatter pattern,” he said, where the clumps of dirt had fallen away from my shoes. Not to mention the fact that I’d been absentminded enough to leave the decapitated three-wood shaft lying nearby. Lack of sleep and the incomprehensibility of holding two million dollars can lead to some mistakes. Later that day, while Thomas and I were visiting with Clarence, he’d gone back to inspect things again. A trace of a trail and a modified club was enough to lead him to my shed, where he’d discovered the hacksaw, the three-wood head, and a hint that I’d been up to something.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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