Woo led her through some simple questions, where she lived, what she did, her involvement in the Tovah Schoenfeld wedding. An hour passed. Easy questions. Wendy yawned. Woo seemed tireless. She turned the cassette over. Wendy asked for a Coke. The sergeant stepped to the door, called out for a uniform to bring a Coke. A moment later she had one. Woo punched the record button, repeated all the pertinent information. Still only two of them in the room.
"Wendy, in our talks last week you didn't tell me the whole truth about your part in Tovah Schoen-feld's murder."
"I told you I was in the ladies' room," Wendy said, flushing a deep red. How many times did they have to go over this? "There were witnesses who saw me there."
"Did you know that eyewitness testimony is among the most unreliable of all?" Woo said smoothly.
Wendy snorted. "What's reliable? You know I didn't kill Tovah. I couldn't have killed Prudence."
"What's reliable is physical evidence. It's incontestable; there's no way to fight it."
"I know the law," Wendy said angrily. "You can't intimidate me."
"Wendy, why is your hair wet?"
"What?"
"Your hair is wet," Woo said coldly.
"Uh, I was out in the rain."
"When were you out in the rain, while Prudence was shot?"
"Hey. It's been raining for two days. I couldn't get a cab this morning. You're intimidating me."
"Not at all. I'm just trying to get to facts we can all rely on. Did you know that conspiracy to commit murder and accessory to murder carry the same weight under the law as committing a murder?"
"Conspiracy?"
"Under the law it's called felony murder. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"No!" Wendy spat out. "I'm completely in the dark. I haven't a clue what you're talking about, and that's the honest truth." Wendy sniffed. It bothered her that her hair was wet.
"Well, you've told me a few dishonest truths. Let's move to the honest truths now."
Wendy shook her head again. "I don't know what you're talking about." She glanced at the mirror. "Whoever you are back there, I don't know what she's talking about."
"Yes, you do, Wendy. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Prudence Hay was the next bride on your list."
"Look, I was inside the church the whole time. I was where you found me. I had nothing to do with it." She brushed her palms together, brushing off the accusation. They were trembling.
"There was Andrea. There was Tovah. And now Prudence. Prudence was the next bride on your list. You're the connection, Wendy—"
"What! Andrea! What are you saying?"
"Andrea Straka, pushed in front of a subway train the day before her wedding."
"Oh, no, I never take the subway. Just—no!" Tears stung Wendy's eyes. "I don't know."
"Yes, you're the link to all of them, Wendy. You know the who and the why."
"I don't. I'm as puzzled as you. If I knew, why would I protect a murderer?"
"That's a good question. Let's get this cleared up right now."
Wendy drank some Coke. "I'm not the only person who worked on all three weddings. Louis did, his boys did. Tang did. Tons of people ... the calligra-pher. I have an assistant."
"Her name?"
"Lori Wilson, she's on vacation."
"Where is Lori on vacadon?"
"Martha's Vineyard. Can I go now?"
"No, Wendy. You can't go. You have to stay and help me out here. You're the link."
"What's your problem? I'm not the link," Wendy snapped. "I told you I don't know."
"And you're lying."
Wendy shook her head. "I don't feel well. I need to go home."
"In dme. We have a lot to talk about."
Wendy kept shaking her head. "What is it that you think you have?"
"Your thumbprint on one of the discharged shell casings, one of the bullets that killed Tovah Schoenfeld."
Wendy's eyes widened. They jerked to the mirror behind which she was sure other detectives were watching her, maybe even filming her. Then to the closed door. No exit.
"Jesus Christ. I'm being framed," she cried.
"You're framing me." Panic filled her for the first time.
"That's not the way it happens. Tell me what you know. I'm here to listen and to help. There's nothing that can't be explained and worked out," Woo said.
Okay, yeah. Of course, everything could be explained. She calmed down. She knew how to spin her stories. Her stomach grumbled. She didn't know when she'd eaten last. She started thinking about food, then drink. She needed a drink. She'd explain fast so she could get that drink.
Thirty-nine
T
he recorder clicked. End side two, cassette three.
April reached over and popped it out, her face showing patience she didn't feel. She had six cassettes. She could get more and sit there for the next two days if she had to. The first three contained a lot of sighing.
"Did you turn the recorder off so no one can hear you torture me?" Wendy slouched in her chair, looking more and more like a surly teenager.
April nodded. She was going to zap the suspect with a stun gun. She almost wished she could, because she was not having much luck finding a way into this irritating woman, and liking her less and less as the hours passed. The pressure for something to break was crushing, and she couldn't help thinking of Jason Frank having fun thousands of miles away, leaving her with a psycho case she couldn't seem to handle. April knew exactly how Jason jumped into the sea of misery with his patients, leading them back into the past and forward into the future at the same time. She'd seen him do it. And now she'd tried being like him, nicer in every way. And it wasn't working.
Wendy responded by slouching and sneering like a big caged cat—or a guy. That was it, she was acting more guy than girl. Her coil of resistance was strengthening. She'd become one hundred percent yang, almost as if she knew for sure that nothing could touch her. The arrogance pissed April off. She felt ever more stressed by the ticking clock, by Bel-laqua's and Mike's depending on her, and the chief's personal command to get it done today. The story was right here in the room. April could feel it just out of reach. All she needed to do was push the right button.
"Can I have a Coke, please?"
"Sure." April stepped outside. "Get me another Coke, please."
Mike appeared. "Want me to take a crack at her?"
"Not yet. Let me keep it soft for a while. We can try that. There's always time to muscle her. Anything come up on Lori Wilson, the assistant?"
"Nothing yet. Her background looks clean, but let's find out where she is."
April nodded, glanced at her watch.
"You sure you don't want me to hammer her?"
"Uh-uh. Thanks," to the uniform for the Coke.
She went back in. "Here you go." It was Coke number five.
Wendy drank half of it in one gulp.
"Feeling better?"
"No."
"Look, don't push me away. I can help you out. Whatever happened I know you had a reason. You don't have to be a tough guy with me," April soothed. "I'm on your side here."
Wendy snorted. "Oh, come on, you're treating me as if I were a common crook, like that bum who was in here before. You said I was a thief, you implied I was fired from my last job. You told me you have my fingerprints on shell casings. Ha-ha." She made the explosive sound of air extruded through closed lips. "I understand what you're doing."
"I want to help you go home, that's all."
"That's what they always say on cop shows." Wendy snorted.
"We're not in a movie here. At least three young women died on your watch. You're the link, Wendy. I need your help."
"I don't care what you need. It's not my problem." Wendy tapped her foot.