happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Dee looked in, wiping her hands with a paper towel. âHi. Just checking there was someone here. Boy, that fingerprint stuff is yucky, huh?â
âYes. Iâm sorry about that.â
âItâs OK. It was interesting to see how they do it.â
I smiled. âYouâre really interested in police work? You know it isnât like on television.â
âI know. Iâve read some books about forensics. Mick thinks Iâm nuts.â
I tried to picture Dee, with her cheerleader looks and sweet outlook, as part of a crime investigation team, and failed. âWell, it doesnât matter what he thinks. Follow what interests you.â
âOh, I will!â She grinned, then left.
I glanced at the clock. Dee had reminded me of the whole fingerprint fiasco, and I realized Iâd been wanting to follow up on something. I just had time to make a phone call, and since Detective Aragón was still in my office, I used the phone at the hostess station.
âSanta Fe Preservation Trust,â said a young womanâs voice after a couple of rings.
âHello, this is Ellen Rosings. May I speak to Claudia Pearson, please?â
âIâm sorry, sheâs in a meeting.â
âOh. Well, Iâd like to come by and see her this afternoon. Would four-thirty be all right, do you think?â
âI donât think she has anything then. Iâll let her know youâll be coming.â
âThank you,â I said, and gave her my number in case Claudia needed to cancel. As I hung up I saw a news van pull up to the curb out front.
The interviews were more or less the same as the one I had done in the morning, except that there seemed to be a lot more equipment involved. Each station brought in its own assortment of lights, sound booms, and cameras, taking up most of Poppy, the neighboring alcove, as well as Hyacinth. Fortunately I was able to close the pocket doors between them and the gift shop and keep the fuss confined.
As for the actual interviews, Iâm sure the reporters were disappointed. I refused to give any details or speculation about Sylviaâs murder, confining my comments to what Iâd already told channel four.
I was just ushering the channel seven bunch out when Detective Aragón came tromping down the stairs with his two cops. He took one look at the camera crew and went ballistic.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â
The reporterâs face lit with delight. âDetective Aragón! Got time to answer a couple of questions?â
âNo! No comment.â He turned to me, looking fit to burst a blood vessel. âWhat the hell inspired you to invite the media in here?â
âThatâs not quite how Iâd put it,â I said calmly.
âIf youâve told them anything that compromises the investigationââ
âI havenât. Ask Mr. Rodriguez,â I said, gesturing toward the reporter.
â Thatâs the truth,â Rodriguez said, shaking his head. âMaybe weâll get a few seconds before the weather, but heck. Itâs yesterdayâs news. Câmon, Dirk, we got that school break-in to get to.â
They trundled out, followed by the cops, but Detective Aragón stayed. He stood glaring at me like a bull in the chute until the front door closed.
âIf you have compromised this investigation I will bring you up on charges,â he said in a tight, angry voice.
I answered calmly. âI have done everything I can to assist your investigationââ
âBullshit! You forced me to get a warrant to examine the crime scene!â
I drew myself up. âMy private suite is not a crime scene!â
âThis whole buildingâs a crime scene!â he yelled, waving his arms. âAnd now youâve turned it into a media circus. I ought to book you right now!â
Iâd had it. Gloves off.
âFine,â I said,
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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