“But the law is the law and you are what you are.”
They turned away from the sun and he shot her a quick glance. “Maybe. And maybe you might be surprised at what I can be.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. They pulled into the parking lot of the library and Serenity said, “What’s next?”
“We both go back to work. Me out here, you in there.”
“You wish. You need me on this. So what are you planning to do next?”
He exhaled and looked at his watch. “May go by and see Bentley, catch him after Steve got to him earlier. Should catch him at about the end of his day, thinking he’s about to get the last patient or the last errand taken care of before he gets to go home. People tend to get irritated when you catch them like that and they make mistakes.”
“See, that’s why you need me. Nobody can irritate Bentley like I can.”
He looked out the window. “Sometimes,” he said, “I can understand his point of view.”
Bentley’s receptionist, Sharon, put down her phone and smiled a weak apology up to Joe and Serenity. “Doctor Bentley says to come back tomorrow. He’s busy with a patient and then he’s going home.”
“Who’s the patient?” said Joe.
Sharon didn’t even have to look at her computer. “The last patient was Danny O’Keefe. You know, Charlie’s boy. At three o’clock.”
Joe said, “To hell with that,” and went through the door with Serenity a step behind.
“Madison PD, Councilman,” Joe said as he stepped into Bentley’s office.
Bentley looked up from the magazine he was studying, one with a beautiful deer on the cover, staring into the camera and probably thinking what an honor it was that he was about to be shot and mounted on some redneck’s wall.
“Keeping up with your medical journals?” said Serenity. “The one that compares deer anatomy to children?”
Bentley put the magazine down. “Two government employees with no respect for a businessman’s time. What a surprise.”
“Sorry, Councilman.” Joe stood in front of Bentley’s desk. Serenity slid by him and took one of the visitor’s chairs. “This is business. Police business. You hired a man named Kendall to look into the books of the library?”
“Told the last cop. It’s my right, the right of any citizen to question public records. And I ought to be able to do it without the lie-brarian getting her husband to come down here and strong arm me.”
“What did you hope to find out?”
“Find out where the money’s coming from to pay for all those giant Lego blocks down at her obsolete library. Know the city didn’t authorize it.”
He looked at Serenity and she spat, “Donations.”
“You mean like when you and the mystery writers had a Noir @ the Bar event to raise money for the library?”
“Yeah. Like that.”
“You said that was the best event you ever had. Raised almost five hundred dollars for the library.”
Serenity didn’t say anything.
Bentley said, “Takes a lot of five-hundred-dollar-bills for that expansion.”
“I explained it to you. Special projects,” she said. The two men looked at her and didn’t say a word. After a long beat, she added, “Lots of special projects.” After another long moment she added, “Generous donors.”
“You don’t seriously—”
Joe interrupted. “Councilman, let me ask you about money. Mr. Kendall was a former senior agent for the FBI—and a big gun in the forensic accounting world. I doubt if he came cheap. Did you pay him personally?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. You’re just down here to harass me to protect your wife’s little government fiefdom.”
Joe gave Bentley his cop stare, the one that says he’s trying to decide whether to kill someone and eat them like the deer on the magazine. Bentley squirmed.
“Dr. Bentley, what exactly did Steve tell you?”
“Nothing. I told him he was harassing me and I wouldn’t talk without my lawyer. He smiled and told me he’d be back, and I’m about to tell you the same—”
“Before you finish that sentence, Dr. Bentley, you should know that Mr. Kendall was killed a short time ago. This is a murder investigation. Do you want to continue the conversation down at the station with your lawyer?”
Bentley turned white. “What? Murder? Don’t blame me. Must have been something to do with one of his old cases.”
“I honestly don’t know and—at this point—I don’t want to talk about what I do know,” said Joe. “Can I just ask you some questions now?”
“Well, of course. I always support our police.”
“Always. Back to my question: who paid Mr. Kendall?”
“I did.”
“Out of your personal money?”
“Of course not. City money. The library’s budget, if I find enough there.”
“And what did Kendall say when you asked about the library?”
“Not much. I told him I was interested in where the mystery money was coming from. He said he might be interested in that, too.”
Joe took his pad out of his jacket pocket and wrote something on it.
Bentley said, “Detective Hammer, I’ve been more than cooperative with you. What can you tell me about the killing?”
Joe thought about what would be public information soon enough.
“He was stabbed in the library.”
Bentley turned white again and shook his finger at Serenity.
“It’s that librarian,” he said. “Detective, the last time I was in the library, your wife threatened to stick something in me.”
“Did not,” she said. Joe was looking at her. “Well, it was a joke. Doo—one of us gave him a cattle thermometer.”
Joe turned to Bentley. “Why would they offer you a cattle thermometer?”
“It was a threat,” said Bentley. “They were threatening to… to… well, you know. They threatened me, and now my representative has been murdered.”
Joe kept looking at Bentley.
“Dr. Bentley, the last time she was in here, did you threaten to take my wife’s temperature, with your own instrument?”
Bentley said, “She had it coming.”
Joe slowly picked up the pad, flipped it closed and put it in his pocket while he kept his stare on Bentley.
“I believe we’re done here.”
Then he leaned on the desk.
“Dr. Bentley, I don’t take it real well when anyone threatens to stick anything into my wife.”
fifty-one
once you get started
THE MAD WAS TOO BUSY NOW, twenty-four hours a day, for Serenity, Doom and Joy to conduct a staff meeting without interruption. Even the restaurants and bars close by were constantly packed with overflow from the round-the-clock mission and party of the MAD.
So, they met at Buffalo Bill’s a few miles away. It was supposed to be a franchise neighborhood grill like Applebee’s or Ruby Tuesday, except with a western theme. But the owner of the Maddington franchise didn’t give a shit if anybody other than his barfly friends ever came in, and he managed the place accordingly. “Managing” consisted of not unlocking the doors half the time or cleaning the place ever.
Which made it a perfect place for the librarians to meet.
Serenity knocked on the darkened door and got no response. Then she pounded harder ’til she heard, “Hold your damned horses, cowboy.” She waited a few more minutes until the door cracked open.
“We’re closed, asshole—oh, Serenity. Didn’t see it was you.”
The door opened wider.
“Hey, Jerry.”
“Where’s that overgrown Nazi you’ve usually got at your back?”
“Joe’s watching the Braves with Rick. And he’s no Nazi.”
“Member of the police Gestapo. Only reason I let you in here is I’m afraid he might shoot me.”