“I know Herbie didn’t do it.”
“Well, go ahead and bail him out. Dino’s already fast-tracked him to be released on his own recognizance.”
“Good talking to you.”
ADA Monahan smiled. “Anytime, Stone.”
49
Dino Bacchetti flashed his ID at the doorman at Herbie’s building. He needn’t have bothered. The guy recognized him from TV and was all too happy to send him upstairs.
Crime scene techs were processing Herbie’s apartment. Photographs had all been taken and evidence was being bagged and labeled. Dino strode around the apartment and assessed the work.
The martini glasses Herbie and Yvette had drunk from were still on the end tables. The rim of one was marked with lipstick — Herbie had clearly drunk from the other glass. Dino pointed them out to the nearest tech. “When you bag those martini glasses, make sure you tag which is which.”
The man wasn’t going to say anything to the commissioner of police, but clearly wasn’t happy being told how to do his job. “Of course. It’s standard procedure.”
“Just make sure.”
Dino proceeded to the bedroom, where he saw the lead on the case, Detective Brogan. He knew the man to be hardworking and by the book, but lacking in creative thinking. The two men shook hands, and Dino turned his attention to the room.
The crime scene unit had tagged a bullet hole in the headboard. The bullet itself had been dug out and bagged for ballistics.
Dino pointed it out to the detective. “Could the bullet have been fired from where the suspect was found?”
“Sure could. Practically a direct line.”
“He missed the decedent by three feet.”
“That’s right.”
“While sitting next to her in the bed?”
“Apparently.”
“So he either shot her point-blank while she was sitting next to him in bed, killing her instantly, and then fired another shot, missing her by three feet, or he fired a shot, missing her by three feet, and instead of jumping out of bed and running for her life, she sat there looking at him waiting for the coup de grâce.”
The detective shrugged. “That’s what a defense attorney will say.”
“Yeah,” Dino replied, clearly unimpressed.
Seeing he had flubbed and eager to score some points with the commissioner, Brogan changed the subject. “There’s evidence the victim’s body was moved.”
“Oh?”
“Drops of blood near the front door. It’s possible he shot her there and carried her into bed.”
“And arranged her on the pillow, and took another shot at her and missed? Then he got in bed, lay down, and went to sleep?”
“I’m not saying that happened. I’m just saying the blood near the front door indicates the body may have been moved.”
“You got samples of that blood?”
“You bet.”
“Carry on, Detective,” Dino said.
Dino moved on and continued searching the apartment. In the bar he found the evidence of either Yvette or Herbie mixing the drinks. The melted ice from the cocktail shaker was long gone, but the shaker itself was still on the counter. Dino ticked it off as more evidence to be bagged.
In the wastebasket at the end of the bar, a single tissue was crumpled up. It stood out because the wastebasket itself was so clean. Dino fished it out, put it on the bar. He spread the paper with his fingertips.
Inside was a tiny screw-top vial. Inside were a few drops of liquid. He waved at the crime scene tech he’d seen earlier. “Yeah?”
“More evidence to bag.”
The man came over and looked.
“This was in the wastebasket.”
The man looked pained. “I’d have gotten there, Commissioner. I have to label everything. I can’t cherry-pick.”
“No one’s criticizing. I’m just looking for anything we can expedite.”
Dino continued his once-over of the apartment. In the walk-in closet he found the empty cash box and the empty jewelry case.
Dino shook his head. The poor detective was going to think he was really picking on him.
Dino raised his voice. “Detective Brogan? I found something I think you’ll want to see.”
50
Herbie was still wobbly on his feet, but between them, Fred and Stone were able to muscle him through the door of Stone’s Turtle Bay town house.
Joan looked up from her desk as they came in. “Oh, my,” she said. “Do I take it we’re going to have company?”
“Herbie’s going to be staying with us for a while,” Stone said. “His apartment’s a crime scene, and he wouldn’t be comfortable there anyway. You want to help Fred set him up in the guest room? I need to call Dino.”
Dino was eager for an update. “You get him out of there?”
“No problem. Well, actually one problem. The ADA is Dierdre Monahan.”
“Ouch.”
“Indeed.”
“How’s Herbie?”
“Distraught. He’s still pretty out of it. When they read him his rights, it’s the first he’d heard that Yvette was dead. He’s still not sure he didn’t do it.”
“You mean he got taken in by the evidence, just like the cops?”
“No, I mean he’s so drunk or drugged or whatever he doesn’t remember anything. What about the crime scene? Is there anything that doesn’t point to Herbie?”
“There’s some evidence of a robbery. I’m running it down.”
“Do that. It would be nice to have something to tell him when he wakes up.”
Stone was just getting off the phone with Dino when Joan came downstairs.
“He’s out like a light. We gave him a pair of your pajamas and put him to bed. He was out before his head hit the pillow.”
“There may be people looking for Herbie. If anyone calls, there’s no need to bother him, just take a message.”
“Of course,” Joan said.
“There’s no reason to say where he is.”
“Of course not.”
“Some of these callers may be official.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t want you to lie to the police.”
“What if they ask me where he is?”
“You don’t know.”
“But I do know.”
“When we’re done here I’m going to have Fred take Herbie to a safe house where he can hide out. Or I might not. I haven’t decided yet. You won’t know which. So if anybody asks if you know where Herbie is, you can honestly say that you don’t.”
“What can I tell them?”
“I’m Herbie’s attorney. You can always get a message to him through me.”
“What if they want to talk to you?”
“Put them on hold and call me.”
“In other words, standard procedure. Okay, I got it.” Joan started out. “Do you want me to have Fred get the car?”
“No.”
51
Mario Payday acted as if the postman had mislaid the mail. “This is most distressing.”
“I know,” Carlo said.
“He’s not at court, and he isn’t home.”
“No, and he’s not in jail. He’s been released.”
“So what is the point of putting pressure on an individual if the person in question can’t be found? Kind of a waste of effort if you ask me.”
“There’s a bench warrant out for his arrest.”
“I thought he was arrested.”
“That was for murder. This is for failure to appear in court.”
“The gentleman has no end of trouble. Which does not mean I intend to stand at the back of the line.”
“Trust me, we’re on it. The minute he surfaces, he’s yours.”
“You just can’t tell me when that will be. Well, I suppose it was too much to ask.” Mario waggled his cigar, blew a smoke ring. “I’m famished. Let’s see how things look after lunch.”