right call, because we solved the case. But not before the two of those guys just about killed each other.”
“I seem to recall him being unhappy about something.” It was ringing a faint bell, but I had just lost Laurel around then and wasn’t in any shape to listen to the details. “But you’re telling me you sent your top detective home today just to avoid another bad scene with this guy?”
“The BCI coordinator knows the history, too, okay? It’s not a secret. He told me he wasn’t going to send this guy down here if Howie was here waiting for him.”
“They couldn’t just send somebody else?”
“You don’t get it, Joe.”
“What?”
“This guy’s the best there is. I want him on this case.”
“If you ever said that around Howie … Let’s just say I can see why he wanted to kill him.”
“That’s not my biggest problem right now,” he said. “So what happened to your hands, anyway?”
“Well … I don’t have to tell you how tough last night was, Chief. I tried to take it out on the heavy bag and paid for it.”
“It was a tough night, all right. Anyway, come on. Let’s go meet Detective Shea.”
I followed him to the interview room, the same room we had sat in the night before. If I was expecting a G-man clone in a gray suit, I was in for a surprise, because the man who stood up to greet me was something else entirely He was blond, maybe thirty years old at the most, with a haircut that belonged on someone even younger. It was almost like a hockey cut, close on the sides and longer at the back. It was so long I couldn’t believe the BCI let him get away with it.
“Mr. Trumbull,” he said, taking my hand. He didn’t say anything about the tape. “Good morning. I’m Detective Shea.”
He had a firm handshake, but he didn’t overdo it. As I looked at him, I couldn’t help noticing his left ear. He was wearing an earring, but it was too small to make out what it was.
A BCI man with long hair and an earring. I couldn’t quite believe it.
“Come on, sit down,” he said. “You want some coffee or something?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Thank you, Chief,” he said. Chief Brenner gave us both a quick look and excused himself. The BCI man and I were alone in the room now. He took off his jacket and draped it on the back of his chair. The color of his shirt was probably supposed to be coral or shrimp, but to most people it would have just been pink. His tie looked like a van Gogh painting.
He waited until I sat down. Then he did the same.
“I understand you’re a probation officer,” he said. “So I’m sure you know what my office does.”
“Yes. I admit, I was a little surprised. But Chief Brenner tells me you’re the best.”
“I don’t know about that. We did work together before and we got a good result. We’ve kept in touch ever since.”
“Fair enough. So what’s going on with Marlene? Do you have any leads yet?”
He had a leather case on the table. He opened it up and took out a red notebook. “I’ll tell you what we have so far,” he said. “You let me know if I’m missing any details, no matter how small.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“I understand you were the last known person to see her alive. That was on Saturday night. The two of you had a date?”
“A blind date, yes.”
“Right. From what you told the chief yesterday, it sounds like you brought her home a little after eleven. That checks out with what her landlady says.”
“You talked to her?”
“Today we did, yes. Mrs. Hornbeck. She lives downstairs.”
“I remember,” I said. “Marlene said we had to be quiet because she was a light sleeper.”
“Well, you weren’t quiet enough, apparently. According to Mrs. Hornbeck, she heard the two of you going up the stairs after eleven, and then there was some music played?”
“Marlene on her piano.”
“Okay. Well, apparently after that, things got quiet for a while.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, you know I have to ask.
“I seem to recall him being unhappy about something.” It was ringing a faint bell, but I had just lost Laurel around then and wasn’t in any shape to listen to the details. “But you’re telling me you sent your top detective home today just to avoid another bad scene with this guy?”
“The BCI coordinator knows the history, too, okay? It’s not a secret. He told me he wasn’t going to send this guy down here if Howie was here waiting for him.”
“They couldn’t just send somebody else?”
“You don’t get it, Joe.”
“What?”
“This guy’s the best there is. I want him on this case.”
“If you ever said that around Howie … Let’s just say I can see why he wanted to kill him.”
“That’s not my biggest problem right now,” he said. “So what happened to your hands, anyway?”
“Well … I don’t have to tell you how tough last night was, Chief. I tried to take it out on the heavy bag and paid for it.”
“It was a tough night, all right. Anyway, come on. Let’s go meet Detective Shea.”
I followed him to the interview room, the same room we had sat in the night before. If I was expecting a G-man clone in a gray suit, I was in for a surprise, because the man who stood up to greet me was something else entirely He was blond, maybe thirty years old at the most, with a haircut that belonged on someone even younger. It was almost like a hockey cut, close on the sides and longer at the back. It was so long I couldn’t believe the BCI let him get away with it.
“Mr. Trumbull,” he said, taking my hand. He didn’t say anything about the tape. “Good morning. I’m Detective Shea.”
He had a firm handshake, but he didn’t overdo it. As I looked at him, I couldn’t help noticing his left ear. He was wearing an earring, but it was too small to make out what it was.
A BCI man with long hair and an earring. I couldn’t quite believe it.
“Come on, sit down,” he said. “You want some coffee or something?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Thank you, Chief,” he said. Chief Brenner gave us both a quick look and excused himself. The BCI man and I were alone in the room now. He took off his jacket and draped it on the back of his chair. The color of his shirt was probably supposed to be coral or shrimp, but to most people it would have just been pink. His tie looked like a van Gogh painting.
He waited until I sat down. Then he did the same.
“I understand you’re a probation officer,” he said. “So I’m sure you know what my office does.”
“Yes. I admit, I was a little surprised. But Chief Brenner tells me you’re the best.”
“I don’t know about that. We did work together before and we got a good result. We’ve kept in touch ever since.”
“Fair enough. So what’s going on with Marlene? Do you have any leads yet?”
He had a leather case on the table. He opened it up and took out a red notebook. “I’ll tell you what we have so far,” he said. “You let me know if I’m missing any details, no matter how small.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“I understand you were the last known person to see her alive. That was on Saturday night. The two of you had a date?”
“A blind date, yes.”
“Right. From what you told the chief yesterday, it sounds like you brought her home a little after eleven. That checks out with what her landlady says.”
“You talked to her?”
“Today we did, yes. Mrs. Hornbeck. She lives downstairs.”
“I remember,” I said. “Marlene said we had to be quiet because she was a light sleeper.”
“Well, you weren’t quiet enough, apparently. According to Mrs. Hornbeck, she heard the two of you going up the stairs after eleven, and then there was some music played?”
“Marlene on her piano.”
“Okay. Well, apparently after that, things got quiet for a while.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, you know I have to ask.
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