Daddy's Little Killer (23 page)

Doubt flickered in his eyes.  "She
would've, without a single doubt.  Gwen and I shared a very
close relationship.  I've known her since she was a young
girl."

"She was pretty, yes?"

He nodded.

"Like Brighton."

"You're not implying that I had anything to
do with that."  Datello slammed his fists on the table. 
"This is exactly what I meant when I said that you would be
respectful."

"I was simply curious.  Did you know
Brighton too?"

"No.  Her mother remarried and was
essentially estranged from the Bennett family."

"Do you know what I find frustrating?"

"I'm not sure I want to know, or need that
information, detective."

"You and Orion don't beat around the bush
about how much you despise one another, yet I get the feeling that
you both have information that you're not willing to share.  I
think it's important.  I'll remind you of something I
mentioned to Johnny when we last spoke.  Withholding
information in a criminal investigation is a crime.  I hope,
when the truth finally comes out – and it will – that I'm wrong,
that you two have been as helpful and forthcoming as
possible.  If not, you'll be spending a lot of time together
while the DA sorts out the charges."

"I'm not afraid of you, Helen.  And the
truth coming out?  That's a double-edged sword.  You
might do well to remember that."

"Call me when you've got Vinnie back in
Darkwater Bay.  I'd appreciate it if you don't tell him why I
need to speak to him."

"You will
not
treat him like a
criminal."

I pasted a cold smile on my face.  "You
have my word."

"Are we finished, detective?"

"Sure, oh, one other thing.  Give my
regards to Uncle Sully the next time you speak."

"And give mine to Rick.  I have a
feeling you'll be seeing him soon."

Chapter 21

My heart wasn't pounding as much as it was
quivering.  Cold seeped through my chest cavity.  Datello
just threatened my life.  The problem was, I couldn't explain
the nature of the threat without exposing something I didn't want
anyone to know.

If I had latched onto Marie's propensity for
prayer, I would've been doing it like crazy – that I could get to
Datello before he got to me, that the only eyes behind the glass
watching that thinly veiled game of one-upsmanship was Charlie
Haverston.  He was green enough to placate.

Hope dashed hard and sparked a little life
into my heart.  It took off in a staccato that would've won a
round of dueling banjos.  The door to the observation room
swung open.  Somber George Hardy and stricken Donald Weber
stared at me with horrified expressions.

Behind them, I got a glimpse of smug
plastered on Jerry Lowe's face.  Beside him, Chris Darnell
looked ready to spit bullets in a succession that would rival my
heartbeat.

"Helen, we need to talk.  Now."

They filed out of the
room, followed by Charlie, who simply mouthed,
I'm sorry
.

"Wait for me in the lobby, Charlie.  We
need to plan what happens next."

"Helen?"  Weber turned and waited for
me to follow.

"Sir," we stepped onto the ancient
elevator.

"Not now, Helen," George said.  Not
particularly friendly. 

I didn't think the interview was that
bad.  The car was saturated with too many emotions to sift
through.  Anger.  Fear.  Panic.  Regret. 
Those were just mine.

Alarm spiked because of the unexpected crowd
watching my little chat with Datello.  How much had he
said?  Anything that might betray details that were better
left quiet?  And where was Rodney?  I couldn't fathom why
Jerry Lowe was part of this motley crew.

"In the conference room," George
said. 

There already.  Noose
tightening.  Run now.  I don't need money.  I don't
need
this
.

Jerry Lowe's hand slipped over the small of
my back.  "That was brilliant, Helen.  I'd love to talk
about how you managed to irritate him out of that calm veneer he
wears all the time."

"Give it a rest, Lowe,"
Darnell piped up from the rear.  "
It's not rocket science
, right, Dr.
Eriksson?"

My blood froze.  Paranoia has that
effect.  Who was the last person I dropped that phrase
to?  Maya?  Haverston?  At Orion's place, when I
talked to Briscoe and Conall…

I gritted my teeth and marched into the
conference room.  "Commissioner Hardy, did we not reach an
agreement that outlined my authority to investigate this case?"

"We did, Helen, but –"

"And in that agreement, did I not stipulate
that I would not tolerate interference with the legal practices
necessary to advance this investigation to a successful
conclusion?"

"You did, but –"

"And –"

"Jesus," Darnell muttered, "would you let
the man speak, Dr. Eriksson?  Or were you this insubordinate
to your superiors in the FBI too?"

"They teach a class at Quantico."

Air blasted from his nostrils. 
"Unbelievable."

"Why am I being accosted by three superiors
and someone who has no authority over my position at all?"

"We're not accosting you, Helen," Weber
spoke softly.  "That interview raised grave concerns. 
From our vantage point, it sounded like Datello threatened
you."

"That," I waved it aside. 
"Posturing.  His ilk are good at it.  Believe me, I'm not
concerned at his little demonstration of tit for tat.  It
irritated him that I reminded him how fully aware I am of his
connection to organized crime.  You honestly didn't expect me
to let him spoon feed his PR diatribe about squeaky clean
businesses, did you?"

"You were a little on the antagonistic
side," George said.

"Perhaps Mr. Datello needed a reminder that
he holds no stake in the Darkwater Bay police department."

"That's it," Darnell fumed.  "We're
taking this case."

"Who?" I demanded.

"OSI.  I will not have another high
profile murder case botched because of –"

"Like hell are you taking my case!  You
have no right to interfere in the jurisdiction of this city,
Commander Darnell.  I don't care who empowered you. 
Fight me on this, and I'll have every major network in the country
crawling all over Darkwater Bay, camped out on your doorstep,
examining every single thing your boss has done since he was
elected to office!"

For the record, I hold no such power. 
At the same time, I know this game too.  A politician puts
image before all else.  The governor would probably scale
Everest naked to avoid even the appearance of impropriety.

Darnell buckled.  "You wouldn't."

"In a New York minute.  Why are you
even here, Darnell?  We've been working this case for less
than two days and making huge strides toward its resolution." 
Lie.  "There's absolutely no justification for interference
from an outside agency.  And believe me, as a member of the
most powerful outside agency in the country, I can promise you that
not even the bureau would get away with what you're trying to
do."

"Yet you're not here as a
member of the FBI," Darnell's thick arms tested his suit to the
limits when he crossed them over his chest.  "You're on par
with us
local
guys."

"I feel I should divulge something that none
of you are probably aware of.  As of last night, there are two
of my colleagues from the FBI here.  In Darkwater Bay."

Hardy sank into a chair.  "Oh lord,
Helen.  Was that really necessary?"

"They're here should it become
necessary."

"Have I missed something?"  Lowe
morphed into a sponge on the other side of the table, eagerly
absorbing every detail of what was said.

"The only reason you're here is because I
haven't been able to reach Rodney all night, and we've got another
problem," Donald said.  "It would appear that both Rodney and
Helen's offices were burglarized last night."

"What was taken?"  Lowe's smirk
vanished.

"The hard drive from my computer," I
said.  "I wasn't aware that Captain Martin's office was
burgled as well.  This isn't the first theft I've
suffered.  Wednesday morning, my hotel room was robbed and my
laptop computer was taken.  Forsythe processed the scene and
found a number of electronic surveillance devices."

"My God."  George crumpled to the
precipice of despair.  "Maybe we should just let Chris take
this case, Donald.  We …"

"
We
must soldier on," I said with
conviction.  "I have already implemented additional security
measures that I'm confident will be successful."

"Even with Danny Datello gunning for you?"
Lowe asked.  He almost pulled off concern.  Almost.

"Datello told me exactly what I needed to
know, gentlemen.  He isn't even aware of how thoroughly
manipulated he was in that interview."

"And just what information were you angling
for?" Darnell asked.  Still, deep interest sparked in his
eyes.

"Granted, I took it farther than it needed
to go, because I wanted his focus on the notion that I'm here
because of a vendetta the feds have against the Marcos family,
which as you probably know or at least figured out, includes dear
Danny.

"His reaction to Gwen's murder told me what
I've suspected for a full day now."

"Which was what precisely, doctor?" 
Darnell, like Orion, could use a lesson or two in patience.

"Salvatore Masconi did not kill Gwen
Foster.  And up until a few minutes ago, Datello believed with
all his heart that Masconi was responsible for Brighton Bennett's
murder.  He now knows that he made a terrible mistake."

Lowe rubbed his hands together. 
"You're saying that Datello had Masconi killed after Orion botched
the case!"

"It's very likely, Chief Lowe.  When he
stammered about how it wasn't possible, it could be inferred that
dead men cannot commit more crimes.  Don't get too
excited.  There's no evidence that Masconi is dead, or that
Datello did the deed."

"Yet," Lowe grinned at me.  "I have the
utmost confidence in your ability to expose him for the murderer
that we know he is."

I tried to rein in the infectious enthusiasm
Lowe sparked.  "Yeah, we hope, chief.  In the meantime,
whoever did kill Gwen and Brighton is still out there doing God
knows what because he's managed to stay a step ahead of everyone
for a very long time."

"Do you have a profile?"

"It's coming together quickly, commander," I
said.  "Right now, all I can tell you is that Haverston and I
will be aggressively pursuing new information that I uncovered
during the night."

"Is that why you're dressed like you just
performed an autopsy?" George broke the code of polite behavior and
addressed my unusual attire.

"I was a little wilted by sunrise. 
Forgive my appearance.  It was the best I could do and make it
here soon enough to chat with Datello before he got fed up and
left.  I promise, Haverston and his team will have my profile
the second I'm sure it's as accurate as possible."

"Anything you can tell us now would be
helpful.  This story is gonna break in the news sooner rather
than later, and we've got to be able to convey some confidence to
the press," Weber's somber mood deepened a few degrees.

"He's a white male, mature, with extensive
knowledge of human anatomy.  Anything beyond that would be
irresponsible speculation until I learn more about his
victims."

Lowe started tracing patterns on the table
with one finger.  "What do you mean by mature, Helen?"

"He's not the typical 25-40 year old
offender.  At the youngest, he's probably pushing fifty."

"And extensive knowledge of anatomy, are you
implying that this could be a doctor?" Lowe pressed.

"A doctor, a professor of anatomy, or
someone who has experimented enough that he learned a great
deal.  A hunter or butcher for instance."

"Fascinating."

"Yes, well be that as it may, I'd rather be
out getting the information that I need right now.  Are we
adjourned, commissioner?"

"Go," he nodded.  "Make sure Haverston
or his men pick up this Bennett boy when Datello calls."

"Yes sir."

Lowe followed me out of the conference room
and resumed the light touch to my low back.  "Helen, you've
got to know how much I admire what you do.  I find this
absolutely fascinating.  I've been begging for years, trying
to get George and Donald to move this department into the 21st
century.  I'd love to sit down and talk to you about how
you've managed to gain such insight into human behavior."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Perhaps after the case is resolved."

"Nonsense.  You have to eat, don't
you?"

"Well …"  Three olives, a boat load of
chocolate and a gallon of cinnamon latte hardly qualified as
nutrition.

"You look exhausted.  When you get to
the point that you can't go forward without a break, call me on my
cell."  He pressed a card into my hand.  "Day or night,
middle of the night, I don't care.  I'll whip up whatever
you'd like to eat, and we can have a nice, private chat without the
dinosaurs interrupting."

Fatigue made it sound reasonable. 
Curiosity about Lowe made it tempting.  My desire for a
kindred spirit regarding bending rules made it an irresistible
proposition.  I grinned up at him.  "You've got yourself
a deal, Chief Lowe."

"Jerry," he murmured.  "And I look
forward to seeing you soon."