Rook followed her. "I was kind of hoping you'd like this idea, for two reasons. First, beyond-yes-the pleasure of your company, it would give us a chance to clear the air about whatever happened between us."
"That's only one reason. What's the other?"
"Captain Montrose already approved it."
"No…"
"He's a great guy. Smart, too. And the pair of Knicks tickets didn't hurt." Rook extended his hand to shake. "Looks like it's you and me, partner."
While Nikki stared at his hand, her phone rang and she turned away to answer. "Hey, Ochoa." Then her face lost color and her exclamation of "What?!" made heads turned in the bull pen. "Are you all right?" She listened, nodding, and said, "All right. Get back here as soon as you can after you make your statement."
When she hung up, she had an audience of the bull pen around her desk. "That was Ochoa. Somebody stole Cassidy Towne's body."
A stunned silence followed, which was broken by Rook. "Looks like we're teaming up just at the right time."
Heat's look didn't match his enthusiasm.
Chapter Three
It's not easy to stun a roomful of veteran New York homicide detectives, but this did it. The brazen daylight assault on a coroner's van and the theft of a corpse en route to its autopsy-right under the nose of an armed cop-was a first. It smacked more of Mogadishu than Manhattan. When the speechlessness in the bull pen gave way to low muttered curses, and then to actual conversation, Raley said, "I don't get why somebody would want to steal her body."
"Let's get to work and speculate on that." Detective Heat was going to ask for her squad to gather around for a meeting, but, except for Ochoa, who was in a car on his way back from giving his statement at the Seventeenth Precinct, where the jacking took place, all hands were present.
Detective Rhymer, a cop from Burglary who had drifted into the bull pen after the news spread to his division, asked, "Do you think it's possible the body snatchers were Cassidy Towne's killers?"
"First thought, of course," said Nikki, "but her COD was a stab wound. This crew had an AR-15 and plenty of other firepower. If they were her killers, wouldn't they have been more likely to just shoot her?"
Raley added, "Yeah, and even if they worried about the noise from a gunshot, if they wanted the body, three guys like that would have just taken it this morning when they did the deed."
"Doesn't sound like this crew does a lot of worrying," said Heat.
There were nods of agreement, and then wheels turned in the silence as they considered motives. Detective Hinesburg, who had a knack for irritating Nikki with her personal habits, snapped a bite out of an apple. A few heads turned her way while she munched and slurped, oblivious to the looks she was getting. "Maybe…" She paused, chomping some more, and then, after she finally swallowed, continued. "Maybe there was evidence on the body."
Heat nodded. "All right. That could work." She walked over to the whiteboard and wrote, "Hiding evidence?" She turned back to them. "Not sure what, but it's a start."
"Something in her pockets? Money, drugs, jewels?" said Raley.
"Embarrassing photo?" added Hinesburg, followed by another bite of her apple.
"All possible, too," said Heat. She logged all of those on the murder board as well, and when she was done, she faced the room again. "Rook, you spent a lot of time with her recently. After everything you observed about Cassidy Towne, do you have any idea why someone would steal her body?"
"Well, maybe, given the number of people she trashed in her column, I dunno… to make sure she was dead?"
They all laughed in spite of themselves, and when Heat stepped to the whiteboard, she continued. "Actually, he's not far off. Cassidy Towne was one of the city's most feared and hated muckrakers. That woman had the power to make and break lives, both of which she did at her own pleasure."
"And for it," Rook added. "Cassidy enjoyed what she could make people do, for sure. As well as making them pay for what they did to her."
"But that's more a reason to kill her, not to steal her. Unless there's something on her body that would give up the killer." Nikki uncapped her marker again. "Like if it was a crime of passion and there was a fight and there's skin under her fingernails. This could be a crew for hire to get rid of that evidence."
Raley said, "Or like the ring marks you found that connected the Russian who killed that real estate guy, Matthew Starr."
Heat printed the words "Skin?" and "Marks?" "If that's the case, we're still looking at an enemies list. And, if what Rook says is true, an enemies list too large to clear with shoe leather. I sent some uniforms to the Ledger city room Midtown to get her hate mail. It took two of them to lift the sack."
Hinesburg muttered, "How many uniforms does it take to…"
"Hey, hey," said one of the uniforms standing at the back.
Detective Ochoa had returned from his ordeal. "I feel bad about this, guys," he said as he took his usual seat in the semicircle facing the whiteboard. "First her trash gets stolen, and now she does. And on my watch."
"You're probably right," said Raley. "Show of hands. How many think Ochoa should have taken an armor-piercing round to save a DB?" Ochoa's partner raised his own hand as a demo and soon everyone's hand shot up.
"Thanks, guys," said Ochoa. "Touching."
Heat asked, "Any news to bring us, Oach?"
"Not much. Fortunately we're getting good assist from the One-Seven. They determined the dump truck used to block the ME van was a stolen, but they're working that, along with interviewing witnesses and the van driver now that he's regained consciousness. They're also generating a sheet of crews that favor ski masks and AR-15s."
"So here's what we'll do," said Detective Heat to the room. "Proceed on two fronts, still work the Cassidy Towne murder scene but hit the body snatch hard. I have a feeling it's a case of find the body, find the killer." As the meeting broke up, she said, "Roach?"
"Yo," they answered in near-unison.
"Knock on some doors along Seventy-eighth. Start in the upstairs of her building and work out from there. Any sound, any detail, any relationship…"
"Looking for another odd sock," said Raley.
"You got it. And while you're en route, fill in Ochoa on our male Hispanic."
"Coyote Man?" said Ochoa.
"I'll give you a pass on that one since you survived today. Yes, Coyote Man. Rook and I will start building a set of likelies into a manageable enemies list."
"You and Rook," said Ochoa. "You mean, like…"
"I'm ba-a-ack," answered Rook in the old, familiar singsong.
As they were preparing to go, a delivery box arrived from the Columbus Cafe. Rook told everyone to help themselves to a sandwich. He popped for it as a welcome-back gesture. As Raley grabbed a tuna on white and turned to go, Rook called him back, holding up a large cup. "Got this 'specially for you, Rales."
Raley took it from him. "Oh, uh, thanks."
"And I know how you like it sweet, so there's extra packets of honey in the bag just for you, Sweet Tea."
Hearing the despised nickname a former partner had stuck him with because of his love of tea with honey irritated Raley enough. Hearing it from Rook after he'd divulged it in his article set him on edge. The skin was mottled white around Raley's lips as he tightened them. And then he relaxed and set the cup back down. "Not thirsty, I guess" was all he said before he showed a confused Rook his back and then left. Detective Heat got into her unmarked car with Rook belted in beside her. She asked where they were going, and he only winked and put a shush finger to his lips and instructed her to take the West Side Highway south. She wasn't crazy about the arrangement, but he had spent all that time with Cassidy Towne and maybe some of his insight could come to something useful. And besides, without any leads yet, the price to pay for needing Jameson Rook was to actually have to spend time with Jameson Rook.