square. Or a circle. I like circles too.”
He called Chau over and asked him to bring up his notes on whatever-their-name was from last night, the elderly couple.
“Friedrich and Alice Van Dyke?”
Konquist shrugged.
Chau recalled his notes on his phone.
“Now show them to Miss Marx.”
“Why am I showing them to Miss Marx?”
“Because she thinks they’re the droids we’re looking for.”
“I didn’t say that,” replied Xana. “What I said was we need to rule them out.”
“Ma’am, all due respect, we ruled them out last night.”
“You ruled them out last night.”
“Seriously?”
“What does it hurt?” Konquist muttered to his partner, and his partner agreed, and summarized his notes. Xana listened with concerted patience. Her nicotine gum was starting to harden in her mouth. She listened for any discrepancies, any unusual observations, and wasn’t surprised when she heard none. As Chau said, the Van Dykes had been ruled out, not that there had been much reason to rule them in. By the sound of it, they were simply good citizens who had responded to a late-night disturbance, called 911, and then dutifully stuck around for the police to arrive even though it was already past midnight and they were in a strange city.
Much like the McCormicks, the Van Dykes were from out of state. Florida, in their case. They were slowly driving up the East Coast. They hoped to be in Maryland by Halloween. They had family in Maryland. How were they able to stay in a penthouse suite at a four-star Marriott? Friedrich Van Dyke used to work for corporate in Bethesda.
“And that’s it,” said Detective Chau. “They were a nice couple.”
“So were the McCormicks,” Konquist added.
Xana nodded, semi-satisfied. “I’m just trying to cross all my
t
’s. You think they’re still at the hotel?”
“They said they’re staying till the end of the week.”
“Excellent. Call them up.”
Chau frowned. “Why?”
“Humor me.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Because I have better things to do?”
Again, Chau looked to Konquist for guidance. Wasn’t this annoyance supposed to be on her way back home? Meanwhile, Xana googled the phone number of the hotel and dialed it herself.
“Hello? Yes, hi. I was wondering if you could put me through to one of your guests. His name is Friedrich Van Dyke. It’s his doctor’s office. Oh, you can’t transfer me without his room number? One second…”
“2704,” grumbled Detective Chau.
“2704. Thank you. I’ll hold.” Xana cupped her hand over the phone’s speaker. “I’m on hold.”
Chau exaggerated a wave good-bye and rejoined the forensics team at the threshold to the McCormicks’ room.
“I don’t think he likes me,” observed Xana.
“I am in awe of your deductive reasoning,” Detective Konquist retorted. “What are you going to ask the Van Dykes?”
“You’ll find out in a sec. Their phone’s ringing. And it’s ringing. And it’s ringing. And it’s ringing. And it’s going to voice mail.” Xana hung up. “Do you have an alternate contact number for them?”
“Probably. But why the suspicion? Is this just a hunch or am I missing something?”
“A little bit of both. I’ll explain in a minute.”
Konquist wandered over to his partner. They had a small chat. Chau shot Xana the evil eye. Xana replied with a queenly wave. Konquist returned. He recited the first four digits of Alice Van Dyke’s cell phone number, then stopped, then cursed, then wandered back to his partner. They had another small chat. Konquist returned to Xana and recited the remaining six digits.
Xana punched in the number and put the call on speakerphone.
It rang once.
Then:
“We’re sorry, but the number you’re trying to reach is no longer in service.”
Xana pressed END .
Konquist repeated his curse from a minute ago, and then added, “How did you know?”
“Let’s say you’re setting up someone to, oh, get their hands chopped off. That’s going
He called Chau over and asked him to bring up his notes on whatever-their-name was from last night, the elderly couple.
“Friedrich and Alice Van Dyke?”
Konquist shrugged.
Chau recalled his notes on his phone.
“Now show them to Miss Marx.”
“Why am I showing them to Miss Marx?”
“Because she thinks they’re the droids we’re looking for.”
“I didn’t say that,” replied Xana. “What I said was we need to rule them out.”
“Ma’am, all due respect, we ruled them out last night.”
“You ruled them out last night.”
“Seriously?”
“What does it hurt?” Konquist muttered to his partner, and his partner agreed, and summarized his notes. Xana listened with concerted patience. Her nicotine gum was starting to harden in her mouth. She listened for any discrepancies, any unusual observations, and wasn’t surprised when she heard none. As Chau said, the Van Dykes had been ruled out, not that there had been much reason to rule them in. By the sound of it, they were simply good citizens who had responded to a late-night disturbance, called 911, and then dutifully stuck around for the police to arrive even though it was already past midnight and they were in a strange city.
Much like the McCormicks, the Van Dykes were from out of state. Florida, in their case. They were slowly driving up the East Coast. They hoped to be in Maryland by Halloween. They had family in Maryland. How were they able to stay in a penthouse suite at a four-star Marriott? Friedrich Van Dyke used to work for corporate in Bethesda.
“And that’s it,” said Detective Chau. “They were a nice couple.”
“So were the McCormicks,” Konquist added.
Xana nodded, semi-satisfied. “I’m just trying to cross all my
t
’s. You think they’re still at the hotel?”
“They said they’re staying till the end of the week.”
“Excellent. Call them up.”
Chau frowned. “Why?”
“Humor me.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Because I have better things to do?”
Again, Chau looked to Konquist for guidance. Wasn’t this annoyance supposed to be on her way back home? Meanwhile, Xana googled the phone number of the hotel and dialed it herself.
“Hello? Yes, hi. I was wondering if you could put me through to one of your guests. His name is Friedrich Van Dyke. It’s his doctor’s office. Oh, you can’t transfer me without his room number? One second…”
“2704,” grumbled Detective Chau.
“2704. Thank you. I’ll hold.” Xana cupped her hand over the phone’s speaker. “I’m on hold.”
Chau exaggerated a wave good-bye and rejoined the forensics team at the threshold to the McCormicks’ room.
“I don’t think he likes me,” observed Xana.
“I am in awe of your deductive reasoning,” Detective Konquist retorted. “What are you going to ask the Van Dykes?”
“You’ll find out in a sec. Their phone’s ringing. And it’s ringing. And it’s ringing. And it’s ringing. And it’s going to voice mail.” Xana hung up. “Do you have an alternate contact number for them?”
“Probably. But why the suspicion? Is this just a hunch or am I missing something?”
“A little bit of both. I’ll explain in a minute.”
Konquist wandered over to his partner. They had a small chat. Chau shot Xana the evil eye. Xana replied with a queenly wave. Konquist returned. He recited the first four digits of Alice Van Dyke’s cell phone number, then stopped, then cursed, then wandered back to his partner. They had another small chat. Konquist returned to Xana and recited the remaining six digits.
Xana punched in the number and put the call on speakerphone.
It rang once.
Then:
“We’re sorry, but the number you’re trying to reach is no longer in service.”
Xana pressed END .
Konquist repeated his curse from a minute ago, and then added, “How did you know?”
“Let’s say you’re setting up someone to, oh, get their hands chopped off. That’s going
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