"How late were you open the night before last?"
"Until ten. That was our late night, to accommodate people who work late, you know?"
"I understand." Stella wrote that all down, then asked, "Does anybody stay later than that?"
Jaya nodded. "We board a lot of animals here, and someone always stays until about eleven or so to make sure they've got enough food and water and, for the cats, enough litter. Plus, some of the animals have medical needs, and the dogs have to be walked."
"Who was it who stayed late two nights ago?"
Blinking, Jaya said, "I don't remember." Her companion, who had long red hair that was tied back in a ponytail, was just getting off the phone, and Nissen turned to her. "Moira, do you remember who had the late shift two nights ago?"
"Sure. It was Marty," the woman said.
Stella managed to hide a smile. "What's Marty's full name?"
"Marty Johannsen," Moira said. "I remember because he came in yesterday with this big-ass bruise. He said Rex did it."
"And Rex is?" Stella asked.
"A Great Dane we got boarded-again." She rolled her eyes. "I swear, those people are on vacation more than they're home. Don't know why they even keep the dog, he spends more time here than there. And they got a yard, too. Don't know why they can't just leave him home and have someone come in to walk and feed him-I even told Mr. Franklin that, but he doesn't listen."
Trying to get the conversation back on track, Stella asked, "So Marty was here alone until eleven?"
"Yeah," Moira said. "Oh, wait-Chris was here for a while, too. Not sure if he stayed the whole time, though."
"Chris is?"
Jaya took this one. "Chris Schanke. He's our head tech-he orders all the food and meds and stuff."
Stella noted his name, grateful that she now had two people to ask about. Her money was still on Marty, but it eased the blow if you asked to talk about two people to the police. Ask about one person and he's a suspect-ask about two, and you're just collecting data. "Can either of you recall what both Chris and Marty were wearing? We want to be able to eliminate them as suspects." That second sentence was only half true.
"Chris was wearing scrubs all day," Moira said. "He always does. I don't think I've ever seen him in civvies, except at the Christmas party."
"Marty was wearing a black sweatshirt that said SAN DIEGO on it," Jaya said. "I remember 'cause Dr. Feldstein wanted to know if he'd ever been there. Dr. Feldstein's son was in the Navy and was stationed there."
Not that she cared, but Stella asked anyhow: "Had he?"
Jaya shook her head. "Nah, it was a present from his parents when they went on vacation there. Kind of a 'My parents went to San Diego and all I got was this lousy sweatshirt' thing."
Stella continued taking notes, but now she was sure she had enough for a warrant.
"You don't have enough for a warrant."
Stella sat with Angell in the chambers of Judge Lou Montagnino. This judge was always a risk. On the one hand, he had a thing about murdered girls. Before being elevated to the bench in 1972, Montagnino had been in the district attorney's office in Queens and prosecuted a man who'd killed four teenage girls. He was usually willing to give a certain amount of leeway for such cases.
The flip side, though, was that Montagnino was also a chauvinist pig who had very little time for detectives of the female persuasion. "Secretaries with guns," he called them once in Stella's hearing, and it had taken all of her willpower (and Mac's iron grip on her arm) to keep from kneeing him in the balls when she'd heard it.
Stella leaned forward in her chair. "Our PC is solid, Judge."
"What solid?" Montagnino peered at Stella over his thin spectacles and aquiline nose. "All I see is vague nonsense. Did Taylor sign off on this?"
After a brief hesitation, Stella said, "No." She'd been tempted to lie, but Mac was still on Staten Island when she got back to the lab. Angell had typed up the warrant request, and they'd both gone to Montagnino's chambers. It was another long shot, but Stella had been doing well with long shots today.
"Judge," Angell said, "he knew the COD. We didn't tell anyone that."
"Over thirty people walked into that bakery," Stella added, "and everyone was just talking about the girl who died. Then in comes this one guy with a bruise of the right size, and he happens to know that the victim was strangled. I think that's sufficient cause to search, especially since he was so belligerent."
"Define belligerent, if you don't mind," Montagnino said witheringly.
"He wouldn't let me question him or take pictures of his bruise or take a DNA reference sample." Of course, she'd never gotten as far as asking for pictures or a DNA sample; he walked out before Stella could even ask. But Montagnino didn't need to know that.
"And if I walked into a bakery to get some dessert, I wouldn't want to spit on a Q-tip for some lady detective, either." He shook his head. "I thought you had a suspect in this case already."
"We thought we did," Angell said, "but we don't have any evidence to support it, and he's got a very good lawyer."
"Ah, I see, you're afraid of this guy's lawyer, so you go after someone else? And you want me to sign off on it? You're making me laugh, Detectives. Who's this lawyer, anyhow?"
"Courtney Bracey," Stella said. "Why?"
Montagnino removed his glasses. "Bracey? Christ on a stick, that bitch? Swear to God, I lost all respect for the New York Bar Association when they let her in." He actually made the sign of the cross. "I wouldn't wish her on my worst enemy, much less you two."
"Gee, thanks," Angell muttered.
He put his glasses back on and read over the warrant request again. "You say he knew the young lady was strangled?"
Stella pressed the point. "He couldn't possibly have known that unless he was the killer, Judge."
Angell shot Stella a look, which Stella hoped Montagnino didn't notice. Stella was bluffing big-time now, but she just knew that Marty Johannsen was their guy, and the longer it was before they could investigate properly, the less of a chance they had of finding any evidence to nail him.
"This girl who died," Montagnino said. "How old was she?"
"Nineteen."
"And you really think this Johannsen jamoke did it?"
Amazed that anyone still used the word jamoke in this day and age-though if anyone did, it'd be Montagnino-Stella said, "I have enough reason to think so that I want to investigate further."
Montagnino smiled at that, though on his wrinkled face and with his too-shiny dentures, it looked more like a rictus. "Good answer, Bonasera. If you just said yes, I would've said no, because that's not a real cop's answer. But you gave me a real cop's answer, so you get the warrant." He reached for a pen, then stopped. "I still think it's nuts to give you eggheads badges and guns, but nobody asked me."
Angell said, "I'm not an egghead, Judge, and I think that this guy's worth taking a look at. A nineteen-year-old girl's dead-shouldn't we do everything we can to find her killer?"
Grabbing the pen and wagging it at Angell, Montagnino said, "Don't try to play me for a sap, little girl. I was signing warrants when you were in diapers." He pronounced the word "die-uh-pers," which Stella found amusing for some odd reason. Then he pushed the button atop the pen to release the point. "You've got your warrant, ladies. Make the best of it."
20
WHEN MAC ARRIVED WITH Flack at RHCF, the latter's first response to checking his weapon was resistance. Russell and Ursitti were there to meet them again, and Flack was not pleased by his way to the entrance was blocked until he checked his Glock at the arsenal.