Rogan gave Eckels a rundown on the previous night’s events, carefully avoiding any mention of Ellie’s presence at the hospital. He also walked him through Myers’s hundred-thousand-dollar cash advance and their theory about the agreement between Myers and Symanski, all facilitated by Susan Parker.
“Now this, I like. Both guilty. Myers of the murder. Symanski of obstruction. We can get everyone in between as accomplices to the obstruction. Prove it, and we might actually come out of this OK.”
No department ever wanted to admit that they’d arrested an innocent man, but having to make such an admission about a rich kid like Myers would be even more costly-both in reputation and money.
“You’re on board with all this, Hatcher?”
“I’m not working the case for now, but, yeah, Rogan’s obviously on to something.”
“What do you mean, you’re not working the case?”
“I was told last night that you wanted me off-”
“I sent you home because any cop needs a night off after being torpedoed in an alley by a cutter. Are you saying you want off the case?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Good, because it’s yours. Yours and Rogan’s. Always has been. I’m sorry if you misunderstood that. Now, does this mean you’re off that nonsense about McIlroy’s cold cases?”
“We’re working the Chelsea Hart case. I get that.”
Of course, if other files turned out to be relevant to the Hart investigation, she’d chase the evidence wherever it led. But she was beginning to wonder herself if the similarities she’d seen among the four murders had in fact been, in Eckels’s words, nonsense.
“One more thing, guys. I spoke to Simon Knight earlier this morning.”
Ellie resisted the temptation to throw a smile in Rogan’s direction.
“Since both Myers and Symanski are in custody, we’ve got to work this thing closely with the DA’s office as they make their charging decisions. From now on, you’ll be working directly with Knight and his assistant through the DA’s Homicide Investigation Unit.”
“What does that mean exactly?” Rogan asked.
“I want you to treat them like your chain of command. Is that a problem?”
They both shook their heads, but Rogan didn’t look happy about it.
“Very well, then. Don’t be surprised when I’m still on your ass. I want updates.”
“Not a problem, sir,” Ellie said, before they both left the office.
“Holy shit,” Rogan said once they were at a safe distance. “Everything last night was a so-called misunderstanding? You weren’t kidding about Knight being smooth.”
“Downright silky.”
“Don’t get too excited. What’s that saying about out of the frying pan and into the fire?”
“All I know is that we need to call the rest of the dream team and tell them we want to have a word with Susan Parker.”
Ellie’s phone buzzed. She checked the screen, worried it would be Peter again, but it was Jess.
“What’s up?”
“I just got a call from Candy at Vibrations.”
“Oh, and I’m sure that’s her real name.”
“They found a body in the parking lot last night.”
Her smile faded. “One of the girls?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s-it’s those files you were reading on the couch the other night. I thought you ought to know.”
“What is it, Jess?”
“When Candy called, she said the girl was all cut up and that her hair looked like part of a costume.”
CHAPTER 38
“HANK DODGE.” The detective waiting for Ellie in the medical examiner’s office was probably in his late fifties. Tall. Bulky. Scruffy gray hair and a five-day beard. When she had called him to track down the details of the body discovered the previous night at Vibrations, he had insisted on being present if she were going to view the victim. “Dr. Karr was just telling me he’d already met you.”
Ellie recognized the bearded pathologist who had conducted the autopsy on Chelsea Hart. She shook hands with both men.
“You were cutting it close on timing, Detective Hatcher. I was just about to start the autopsy when you phoned Detective Dodge.”
“I think that’s the doc’s polite way of saying he hopes you had a good reason for asking us to wait.”
“My brother works at the club where your victim was found. It sounded like there were similarities between this case and the Hart murder.”
“Your brother works at a titty bar?” Dodge asked.
“Long story.” It wasn’t, really. The job at Vibrations was the first Ellie could remember Jess holding down for two months straight. “My impression is that any similarities had to do with the appearance of their bodies. That’s why I was hoping to see the vic before the postmortem.”
“You want the basics first, or should we just head to the body?”
“The basics would be great.”
“Victim’s name was Rachel Peck. Twenty-six-year-old white female. Works as a bartender. On-and-off party girl. Her girlfriend called police last night at one a.m. after Peck went out for a smoke and never came back.”
“Went out from where?”
“Some club.”
“It wasn’t a place called Pulse, was it?” she asked.
The fact that Chelsea Hart had met Jake Myers at Pulse had been widely reported in the press, and Dodge could see where Ellie was headed.
“No,” he said firmly. “Some joint called Tenjune.”
Ellie was familiar with it. “In the Meatpacking District. Three blocks from Pulse.”
“You know how many kids are partying within a three-block radius in that neighborhood? This particular kid told her friend she was going for a smoke and never came back. As you can imagine, the friend’s call-along with a hundred others just like it-got the blow-off at dispatch. Peck’s body got called in at four a.m. from your brother’s fine establishment.”
“Any witnesses?”
“Nope. She was behind a Dumpster at the back of the lot. The way the lot’s situated, a car could pull in behind the Dumpster, ditch a body, and spin right back onto the West Side Highway. As long as they were fast enough, it would look like a car pulling in just to turn around. We do, however, have a suspect.”