“Wasn’t nine o’clock at night an odd time to be calling him about that?”
“It was when the subject occurred to me. It needed to be dealt with. I don’t like putting things off.”
“Did you complete the call?”
“Peale didn’t pick up. It went to his voicemail.”
“Did you leave a message?”
“No. That’s when I heard the glass breaking. It sounded like it was in the conservatory.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went to a cabinet where Angus kept one of his guns. A Glock 9. I took it out, switched off the safety, and went to the conservatory.”
“Did it occur to you to call 911?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Or your groundskeeper? Doesn’t he have an apartment over the garage?”
“He spends his nights with a woman in Bastenburg.”
“Okay. So, you went to the conservatory. What then?”
“At first, nothing. There’s a hallway that connects the main part of the house to the conservatory. I waited there for a minute until my eyes adjusted to the moonlight. I heard more glass breaking. Then I saw someone pushing the conservatory door open.”
“How clearly did you see him?”
“Clearly enough to see that he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and had a black mark down the side of his face. I saw something in his hand—a knife with a short blade. I raised the Glock. I stepped from the anteroom into the conservatory. I told him to stay where he was and drop the knife. He stayed perfectly still for a few seconds, then rushed at me with the knife.”
“You could see the knife clearly?”
“It was shining in the moonlight—the moonlight coming through the glass roof.”
“Go on.”
“I pulled the trigger—twice, I think. He collapsed on the floor in front of me. I backed away. He wasn’t moving. A dark spot was spreading out on the back of his sweatshirt. I couldn’t look at it. The thought of it . . . I . . . I went back into the house. I called the police.”
“You called Chief Morgan directly?”
“Yes.”
“Rather than 911?”
“Angus always said, call the person in charge, anyone else is a waste of time.”
“Did you go back into the conservatory for any reason before the police arrived?”
“No.”
“Where did you go?”
“To a bench out in the entry hall near the front door.”
“Did you make any other phone calls?”
“No.”
“What did you do with the gun?”
“I kept it in my hand. When the first officer arrived, I gave it to him.”
“Were you in the conservatory for any reason after the police came?”
“No. They told me there was a lot of blood.”
“When you called Chief Morgan, you told him you’d shot Billy Tate, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“What made you think it was Tate?”
