Agent Long was coming out of the business center as we stepped into the lobby. She had glasses on now, and she was holding several pages that had obviously just come off the hotel printer.
“What are you guys doing here?” She couldn’t help but flinch as the blast of cold air made it to her side of the room.
“We need to talk to you and your partner,” Maven said, stomping off the snow from his boots. “Why don’t you get him down here?”
She pulled out her cell phone, hit a speed-dial number and then made the customary cell-phone face as she watched the call trying valiantly to go through. When it finally bounced its way to a tower that was probably across the river in Canada and back to her partner’s cell phone upstairs, she told him to come down to the lobby as soon as he could. A month later, I knew she’d see the bill and wonder why it cost five bucks to make a call inside the very same building when she could have just picked up the house phone, but today that was the least of our problems. The elevator door opened and Agent Fleury stepped out, looking seriously unhappy to see us.
“What’s this about?” he said. “Didn’t we set things straight enough at the station?”
“No,” Maven said. “Not straight enough at all. Let’s go sit down somewhere.”
We went into the dining room. The Freighters, they called the place. Yet more memories I could have dwelled on if I wanted to. There were a handful of people having a late lunch, so Maven asked for a quiet table on the far side of the room. As we sat down, we could see the frozen locks from the big windows. It made me remember standing up there on the observation deck with Raz, listening to him talk about his son. It was the last time I saw him alive.
“We have a conference call in ten minutes,” Agent Fleury said, waving the waitress away without even glancing at her. “Make this quick.”
“You’d better call and postpone it,” Maven said. “You need to hear about a new development in this case.”
Agent Long looked at the ceiling and shook her head while Agent Fleury’s face went through several shades of red.
“I thought we had reached an understanding,” he finally said.
“Just get over yourself and listen to me,” Maven said. “We talked to one of the sergeants over at the state police post here in town and we believe we’ve found another suicide that appears to be connected.”
“Why were you talking to the state police?”
“The sergeant and I go way back. Besides, I didn’t exactly see you rushing over there to do the legwork, so give it a rest.”
“You’re out of line,” Fleury said.
“Everybody take it easy,” Agent Long said. “Chief, tell us what you found.”
He laid it all out for them. The apparent suicide of the young woman in Marquette, now the latest of three. Her father a retired lieutenant from the state lab. Most importantly, the one vital link between Sergeant Steele and Lieutenant Haggerty-their seven years together at the St. Ignace post.
“I still don’t see how this ties in with our man Razniewski,” she said. “He never worked up there, did he?”
“No, he didn’t,” Maven said. “But at first we were thinking maybe he ran into them in the past few years, after he became a marshal. I’m sure he doesn’t work with Michigan state cops all the time, but maybe once in a while, right? Even that far north?”
“It’s possible.”
“Yeah, but the time frame doesn’t work as well that way. If you go back ten to twelve years, that’s when Steele and Haggerty were still together in St. Ignace. And that’s when Raz was a state cop, too. You’ve got all three men in the same job at the same time, even if it was only for a couple of years.”
“But you were on the job, too,” Agent Fleury said. “Am I right? How come you’re not involved in this yet?”
I thought Maven had already stared this agent down as hard as a man can be stared down, but I was wrong. Maven had one more gear left and he used it now.
“First of all,” he said, slowly, “yes, I was on the job at the same time. But as far as I can remember, I never ran into Steele or Haggerty. And I have a good memory. Second, who’s to say I’m not involved? Whoever’s doing this… if it really is one person doing this…”
“Then he may have you next on his list? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“Haggerty’s the one I’m worried about. According to the pattern, he’d be next. And soon.”
“But then what? After that? Does he move on to you?”
Maven let that one hang for a moment. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “It’s possible.”
“So this person who’s doing what, let’s go through the MO. He finds these old state cops from back in the day, and the first thing he does is make that person’s son or daughter commit suicide? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“That’s the worst possible thing you could do to somebody.” I hadn’t said a word yet and I figured it was about time. “Think about it. It’s even worse than killing somebody straight out. Kill their child first.”
“But make it look like suicide.”
“Yes,” I said. “Exactly. Make it look like suicide.”
“Do you know how hard it is to really do that? To kill somebody and to fool everybody into thinking the person killed himself? Or herself?”
“I understand,” I said, “but it might not be so hard to miss if you’re not looking for it.”
“I don’t know, I’m still skeptical.”
“I don’t have any kids, but if I did… that would be the worst thing you could do to me.”
“Maybe.” He cocked his head back like he was thinking of what could be worse.
“It would be right up there,” I said. “Believing your own flesh and blood doesn’t want to live anymore.”
“Okay,” Agent Fleury said, “so if I buy that, and if Chief Maven is somewhere on that same list…”
He turned his attention back to the chief. I had a bad feeling about what might come next.
“What do you say, Chief? Do you have any kids?”
“I have one daughter,” he said, his voice going robot-flat again, drained of all color and emotion as it had been in the interview room.
“One daughter,” Fleury said. “Okay, then. So you better give her a call, huh? Tell her to stay away from open windows.”
It was several days in the brewing, but that finally did it. Maven came out of his chair, faster than I’d ever seen him move. Faster probably than anything he’d done in twenty years. He was already around the table by the time I could get to my feet. He grabbed Agent Fleury by the collar and pulled him close. With his face one inch away he said something that I couldn’t hear. I caught up to him and pulled him away, and as I did I could see the fear written clear on Fleury’s face.
“You’re out of control, Maven!” The fear was gone as quickly as it came. He was upset now. Upset and embarrassed and I knew this was something that wouldn’t go away quietly. “It was just a stupid joke, you idiot. I could throw you right in jail, you know that?”
“I’d like to see you try,” Maven said.
“What the hell is wrong with you people up here?”
“Hey,” I said. “Just knock it off, all right?”
“I just make one stupid little crack and you turn into a maniac?”
One stupid little crack, I thought. Pretty standard cop humor, actually. I’d heard a lot worse, but Fleury picked the wrong man on the wrong day.
“Everybody cool down,” I said. “Okay? Can we all just relax?”
Maven shook free from me and straightened his shirt. “If you ever say another word about my daughter, I swear to God…”
“You swear to God what? What will you do?”
“Knock it off,” Agent Long said. She stood in front of him and pushed him backward. She was strong, I had to give her that much.