Harry Dolan by Bad Things Happen Page A

following you,” said Hideaway.
    “Now that Tom’s gone, we have to look out for his interests. That’s what you said. But that’s not an easy job, is it? Tom had his secrets. Is it better now we should keep them or reveal them?”
    “Now I’m sure I’m not following you.”
    “I wonder. Did you really ask me here to offer me a job?”
    “Why else?”
    “I think maybe you wanted to get a sense of me. To see if I was going to be trouble.”
    “You really should listen to yourself, Mr. Loogan. You’re sounding very peculiar.”
    “Maybe I’m wrong and you’re exactly what you seem to be. You’re just looking for someone to edit Gray Streets. ”
    “I thought I’d made that clear.”
    “Maybe you’re guileless.”
    Hideaway spread his arms out at his sides. “I’d like to think so.”
    “I can almost believe it,” Loogan said, looking around at the chairs, at the bookshelves, at the desk. “If you had any guile, you would have picked a different room. You would have talked to me anywhere else but here.”

Chapter 12
    THE WEB SITE OF GRAY STREETS DISPLAYED PHOTOS AND BIOGRAPHIES of the magazine’s interns. The online images were too small to be of much use, but the original photographs were kept in a file in the outer office of Gray Streets. The secretary, Sandy Vogel, showed Elizabeth the file on Tuesday morning. The photos were in no particular order, but it didn’t take Elizabeth long to find Adrian Tully’s.
    She had duplicates made that morning, and by the afternoon she and Carter Shan and a handful of other detectives had fanned out through David Loogan’s neighborhood and through downtown Ann Arbor, searching for anyone who had seen Adrian Tully on the day Tom Kristoll was killed.
    The canvass continued on Wednesday. The results were disappointing. Elizabeth found a waitress in a diner who thought she had served Tully breakfast, but couldn’t be sure what day it had been. There were a few other sightings of similar uncertainty. Then, on Wednesday afternoon, Shan spoke to the girl who delivered the newspaper in Loogan’s neighborhood. She recognized Adrian Tully. She had seen him on Loogan’s block on Friday evening.
    Shan took the girl’s statement, and he and Elizabeth met with the chief the next morning to bring him up to date. Owen McCaleb stood by his office window, listening. He was fresh from a jog and hadn’t yet changed his clothes.
    “It’s slim,” he said when Shan finished.
    “I know.”
    “I mean, what we have is Adrian Tully on Loogan’s street,” McCaleb said. “Not even near his car, right?”
    “He was walking along the street near Loogan’s house,” said Shan. “That’s what the girl said. But we also know the time. Around quarter to six. Tully claimed he was at his apartment all afternoon and evening.”
    “The timing fits with what Laura Kristoll told us,” Elizabeth added. “She arrived at Loogan’s house around five-thirty. Tully could have followed her there.”
    “And then he could have punctured Loogan’s tires and keyed his car,” McCaleb said. “But the papergirl didn’t see him do it.”
    “No.”
    “And then he could have gone downtown to the office of Gray Streets ,” McCaleb said. “And out of jealousy, or just to be a prick, he could have told Tom Kristoll about his wife’s affair. He could have quarreled with Kristoll and hit him over the head and pushed him out the window. But no one saw him in the building, or even in the vicinity of the building.”
    “No.”
    “So right now,” McCaleb said, “what we’ve got on Adrian Tully is that he lied about where he was on Friday. I don’t see how we have enough to charge him with the vandalism to Loogan’s car, much less the murder of Tom Kristoll. We don’t have enough to get a warrant to search Tully’s apartment, and even if we did, there’s nothing to search for. Do we even know what Kristoll was hit with? What did the M.E. say?”
    Shan smiled ruefully. “A blunt