More tears.
I went out on to the porch. I had Ben Zuckerman’s number on my speed dial. His personal assistant answered.
‘Hi, Stephanie. It’s Dev Conrad.’
‘Hi, Dev. I hope you’re in the city. It’s such a beautiful day.’
‘Actually I’m upstate for the day. But it’s nice up here, too.’
‘I love fall so much. My favorite time.’
‘Mine, too. Say, Stephanie, is Ben there?’
‘Yes he is. He’s got one of our temps in with him. I can buzz him if you’d like.’
‘I’d appreciate that very much. Thank you.’
The wait took about a minute and a half.
‘Hi, Dev.’
‘Hi, Ben. Listen, you’ve been to Robert’s cabin.’
He laughed. ‘I got the worst hangover of my life the weekend I went up there, supposedly to fish.’
‘I can’t say any more than this: we need you to fly up here now. Take a private plane if you need to and charge it to us. There’s an airport nearby. Call me back when you have the arrangements made.’
‘Hey, Dev. You’re scaring me, and I mean it.’
‘Nobody’s more scared than Robert is.’
‘I’ll have to blow off a couple of very important clients.’
‘You know how badly we need this seat.’
‘Damn it!’ he said and took a deep breath. ‘I really am dreading this. I’ll be on a plane as soon as I can. Give me your cell number again, huh?’
Three
Detective Frank Hammell stood with me on the porch as we watched a green Chevrolet two-door sedan come around the corner of the A-frame and stop. He and two of his uniformed men had been here for just over half an hour now. Bright yellow crime scene tape clashed with the more autumnal colors of the trees and grass.
He had made it clear from the start that he considered me at best a nuisance. I’d warned Robert three different times that after his brief explanation of how he’d come to find the body he didn’t have to say anything else until his lawyer showed up. He’d given me the name of a local attorney who was also a strong political supporter of his. He felt she could handle things until Ben got here.
‘There she is,’ Hammell said, watching a woman get out of the Chevy. ‘She’s a pretty one. And if you don’t think so, just ask her.’ His spiteful tone suggested a lot but since it was in code I didn’t know what he was talking about.
Her name was Jane Tyler. Everything about her, from the cut of her blue suit and starched white blouse — and certainly including her pretty, freckled face — suggested that she was a smart, confident woman who’d be good in a courtroom. This impression faltered for just a moment when her blue eyes met Hammell’s.
She came up onto the porch toting a slender briefcase. She nodded to each of us and then said, ‘Hi, Frank.’
‘It’s Detective Hammell these days, Jane. You should’ve figured that out for yourself.’ He was a tall man who might have played basketball in his high school days. At least, the graying crew cut suggested something like that. He wore a gray suit and black tie and blue shirt. He kept squeezing one of those little rubber balls that help your grip get more deadly.
‘All right, Detective Hammell. I’d like to talk to the senator if I may.’
‘Then this is the man you want to talk to. He seems to be giving the orders.’
I put out my hand and we shook. ‘I’m Dev Conrad. I work with the senator on his campaign.’
A good, open Midwestern smile. ‘Oh, yes. He talks about you all the time.’ Then to Hammelclass="underline" ‘Detective Hammell, I’d like ten minutes alone with Senator Logan. And since I imagine you’ve got a couple of men inside I’d like to request that they wait outside while I talk to him.’
‘Why, hell yes, Jane. You and this Conrad are making my work easy for me. All I got to do is take orders and not worry my pretty little head at all.’
For the first time her blue eyes showed concern. ‘Detective Hammell, I’m not asking for anything irregular and we both know you don’t have to go along with it. If you’re against it just say so.’
‘Now how could I say no to a former family member?’
This time her look was one of exasperation. A soap opera was playing out but I still didn’t know the plot.
He moved from us to the door and said, ‘Carter and Banes, get out of there right now.’
As he spoke another car came around the side of the house. This one was a new silver Buick and had a doctor’s tag on the license plate. Probably the medical examiner.
The two uniformed men came out of the house. Both of them carried small evidence bags. All the bags were filled. ‘Our good friend the lawyer needs to talk to the senator.’
Neither of them showed any particular emotion. They were likely competent officers doing their job. They didn’t seem to share their boss’s enmity toward Jane. In fact, one of them was bold enough to nod to her and offer a whisper of a smile.
I heard one or maybe two vehicles making their way down the slope leading to the house. The place was getting busy.
‘You better get in there right now,’ Hammell said to Jane. ‘You know how Doctor Wilhelm hates to be kept waiting.’ His moderately civil tone surprised me.
Jane hurried inside.
The man who came up on the porch appeared to be in his fifties with graying hair that had once been red. He wore a V-neck blue sweater with a button-down white shirt underneath. Jeans and tan cowboy boots. Somewhere he’d bought himself a pair of mean green eyes, maybe at a gun shop. It was hard to imagine him comforting a patient.
Even before Hammell had had time to introduce him, Wilhelm leaned into the detective and grinned. ‘Looks like I’m gonna get the senator I want after all. Sorry about that, Detective Hammell.’ Hammell grunted but said nothing. Then Wilhelm glared in my direction. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Logan’s consultant.’
His hand went out. I took it automatically. Shockingly weak for such a medical cowpoke. I wanted to punch him in the mouth.
‘A little joke there, Conrad. My name’s Tag, by the way.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘I’d never let my politics interfere with my job.’ He was covering his ass in case I wanted to give the press his name and repeat what he’d said. ‘Well, I’d better get in there.’
There were numerous cases around the country where medical examiners had been bought off. Most notorious was the case of the Chicago-area detective who’d allegedly murdered three of his four wives.
‘You’ll need to hold off ten minutes, Tag. Jane Tyler’s in there.’
‘Tyler? What the hell’s she doing here?’
‘The senator asked Mr Conrad here to get her. They’ve got some hotshot lawyer flying in from Chicago and she’s holding down the fort until he gets here.’
‘She’s about as cold a little bitch as they come.’ The word cold was, I suspected, attributable to the possibility that he’d hit on her and she’d spurned him. Why, here was a stud popular enough to be both a husband and a player — how could she turn down a prize like him?
An ambulance pulled into view, followed by another squad car. And right behind them, still coming down the slope, was another vehicle that was soon enough revealed to be a Channel 8 van. Like Jane and Wilhelm, they’d all have to park outside the yellow tape.
‘You have any ideas yet, Frank?’ Wilhelm asked.
‘Not yet. Way too soon. I’d like to talk to the senator but our friend here doesn’t think that’s a good idea.’