Nik Kane Alaska Mystery - 02 - Capitol Offense by Mike Doogan

too hard for evidence you didn’t do it. But me? I’m motivated to help you by the best motivation there is—money. And if I’m going to help you, you’re going to have to tell me a whole lot of stuff, including some things you probably really don’t want to tell me.”
    The two men sat in silence while Hope seemed to consider what the detective had said.
    “I went to a reception after work,” he said at last. “City of Petersburg. They serve good shrimp. I talked to some people there, ate a mess of shrimp, left. Went back to the Capitol to finish reading up on the next day’s bills. Then I went looking for Senator Potter to discuss a bill of mine that’s stuck in his committee.”
    Hope stopped talking. Kane waited. He knew from experience that Natives spoke in a different rhythm than whites and that silence, even prolonged silence, didn’t necessarily mean that Hope was finished.
    “A light was on in the senator’s office,” he said. “Miss Foxx was lying there. There was a lot of blood. I guess I kind of blacked out then. The next thing I remember was a policeman reading me my rights. Just like on TV. Law and Order or one of those shows.”
    Hope went silent again. Kane waited. When he was convinced Hope was done talking, he said, “Had you been drinking?”
    Hope looked at the detective for a long while.
    “You think because I’m Native I must have been drinking?” he said.
    Kane shook his head.
    “No,” he said, “because you say you blacked out. In my experience, blackouts and booze go hand in hand.”
    “Your professional experience,” Hope said, “or your personal experience?”
    “Both,” Kane said, and waited.
    “I don’t drink,” Hope said. “I’ve seen too many people fall into the bottle and not be able to climb back out. I can’t explain the lost time. Shock, maybe. I haven’t seen very many dead people before. And there was a lot of blood.”
    Kane nodded and made a note in his notebook.
    “When did you get to the reception?” he asked.
    “I don’t know, maybe about five-thirty, six o’clock,” Hope said.
    “When did you leave?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “When did you find the body?”
    “I don’t know for sure.”
    Kane sighed.
    “You went to the reception at six o’clock and discovered the body near eleven,” Kane said. “That’s a lot of time to account for with eating shrimp and doing paperwork.”
    Hope sat silently. Kane sighed again.
    “You got any friends in the legislature?” he asked.
    “Friends?” Hope asked. “Why do you need to know that?”
    Kane slapped his notebook against an open palm.
    “Because,” he said, “whether you like it or not, I’m investigating this killing, and I don’t know the first thing about the legislature. I’d ask you, but you don’t seem very talkative. So do you have any friends there or not?”
    Hope shook his head.
    “Friends,” he said. “You know what Harry Truman said about friends in politics, don’t you? He said, ‘If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog.’ Same thing’s true in Juneau.”
    It was Kane’s turn to sit without saying anything. Finally, Hope went on, “But if you want to know how the legislature works, go talk to the Senate minority leader, Toby Grantham. He’s been in there for thirty years or so, and he’s a Democrat like me, so he might help.”
    Grantham’s had been one of the names on Mrs. Richard Foster’s list. Kane closed his notebook and tucked it into his shirt pocket. He followed it with his pen.
    “Let me tell you how this is,” he said. “When we’re finished talking, I’ll walk out of here, get in a cab, and go back downtown. I’ll maybe get a coffee, then I might go up to the Capitol and talk to some people. Then I’ll pick a place and have lunch. Tonight, I’ll decide where to get dinner, whether to go to a movie or watch a little TV. Then I’ll choose when to call it a night, turn in, get some sleep.”
    He paused, but Hope just sat