Lyman opened. “Marion, how should we proceed?”
“It’s McRyan’s case.” Peters said, nodding towards Mac.
Lyman looked at Mac and asked, “Well?”
Mac, pleasant to start, said, “I appreciate your and the senator’s willingness to meet with us. We were hoping the senator might be able to clear up a few things for us.”
“Like what, Michael?” Lyman asked.
“For example, was he at Ms. Daniels’ place the night she was killed?”
The senator looked at Lyman, who nodded. “You know I was.”
“What time did you leave?” Mac asked.
“Around 1:30 a.m.”
“Why were you there?”
“I was seeing Claire.”
“Describe ‘seeing,’ senator,” Lich asked.
“Claire and I were… involved.” Senator Johnson responded evasively.
“In other words, you were having sex with her,” Mac said bluntly. It was a statement, not a question, intended to push.
“Yes,” Johnson replied tersely.
“Did you use a condom?”
“No.” That made DNA less of an issue.
“How long had you and Ms. Daniels been sleeping together?” Mac asked.
“A couple of months.”
“How did you meet?” Lich inquired pleasantly. The senator spent fifteen minutes detailing his relationship with Daniels, where they had met and how the relationship had grown over time.
Mac thought about asking whether the senator’s wife knew about Daniels, but because Sally had said Hisle would likely shut that down, he decided to wait. Instead he asked, “Were you there two nights before Claire was killed?”
“Yes, I was.”
Mac, gratuitously, trying to push just a little, “Getting a little action that night as well?”
“I’m not sure it’s any of your business.” The senator replied sharply. Lyman grabbed his arm. Mac smiled. The senator didn’t like him.
Lich, good cop, jumped in all calm and respectful, “What time did you leave that night?”
“Similar time, around 1:30 a.m.”
“I was wondering… how did you get in the last night at Daniels’ place?” Lich asked.
“Claire let me in.”
Lich, conversational, “Was that always the case? How about the other nights, how did you get in those times?”
“Claire would let me in or I’d use a key she left under the front door mat.”
The senator relaxed a bit, so Mac decided to push a little again, “How’d Claire like it?”
Senator Johnson stared at him. “Like what?”
“Having sex. A little rough perhaps? Kinky?” Mac asked.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Johnson growled.
Lyman jumped in. “My client isn’t going to answer that.”
“Fine, Lyman,” Mac replied, then turned back to the senator, “Ms. Daniels seeing anyone else besides you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. Only me.”
“How can you be so sure? Did you ever ask her if she was sleeping around?”
“Yes, I did. She said I was it. I had no reason to doubt her.”
“She tell anyone she was sleeping with you?”
“No. She understood that it had to be kept quiet.”
That comported with what they’d learned about Daniels. Nonetheless, Mac kept the heat on, pushing, digging. “Yeah, because if word gets out about this, that could play havoc with your political career and the little misses at home.” Again, it was a statement more than a question. The senator glared at Mac but didn’t respond.
Lich, good cop, stepped in. “Did Daniels ever mention any problems she had with her neighbors, ex-boyfriends, people she reported on or with, anyone prowling around her place?”
The senator, turning away from Mac and towards Lich, replied, “Not that I recall.”
“You ever see anyone hanging around that didn’t look right? Anyone suspicious? Weird?”
“No, not at all.”
Mac took over. “And the night Daniels was killed, you left at 1:30 a.m.”
“Yes.”
“Anyone know you were at Claire’s that night?”
“No.”
They worked the facts for another half hour, working through the details, time of arrival, how the senator entered, the nature of the relationship, time of departure. Senator Johnson held tightly to his story, finishing with, “Like I said, I left at 1:30 a.m. and went home to my condo downtown.”
Mac paused, folded his arms and stared at the senator for a moment. He had been there that night, admitted leaving at the right time and didn’t force his way in, they’d cemented everything, including his departure at the time of death. So, how did Daniels die? Time to ask. “Senator, I have a feeling you’re not telling me everything.”
“What?” the senator snapped, disbelieving.
“You’re not telling me everything. You’re leaving things out.”
“Listen, detective, when I left Claire’s place, she was alive.”
“I don’t think so,” Mac replied, arms folded, rocking in his chair, a smirk on his face.
“Maybe I wasn’t clear, Detective McRyan,” Senator Johnson replied angrily. “She was alive when I left her place. I’m here to help you guys, and now you call me a liar.” He looked at Peters and pointed towards Mac. “This is the guy you having running the case?” Mac smiled inwardly.
Lyman put his arm in front of his client, and spoke to Peters. “Look, the senator is concerned because his friend was found murdered. He came here in good faith, to help you out. He’s been cooperative.” Pointing towards Mac, he continued. “McRyan is out of line, and if he continues in this fashion, we will be done here.”
“Sorry, Lyman,” Mac replied flatly. “But before you try to pull the plug, let me tell you what we’ve detected thus far.” Mac flipped his notebook back a few pages. “Daniels was found dead Tuesday morning in her bed by her housekeeper. Her windpipe was crushed. There was extensive bruising around her throat. Someone had gotten on top of her, straddling her and pressed down on her throat like this,” Mac put his hands out in front of him, thumbs pointing up, demonstrating the grip.
He took a sip of his coffee, pausing for effect and then lowered the hammer. “Time of death, confirmed by autopsy, occurred between 1:00 and 2:00 a.m.” Mac looked directly at the senator, who had sat back in his chair at the comment on time of death, his eyes going wide, a look of horror replacing the one of derision. Mac expected more of a worried look and wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. He hesitated for a moment, then continued. “She’d had sex the night she was murdered. We have a single male semen specimen of which we will be doing DNA testing. It undoubtedly belongs to you, Senator.”
Mac stopped briefly, took another hit of his coffee, and while looking at his notes, continued, “We have no evidence of forced entry into her home. We have no evidence of robbery. Nothing is missing. The house wasn’t ransacked or disrupted in anyway. The housekeeper confirms that. Whoever killed her had a key or was let in.” Mac paused, waiting.
A barely audible, “Oh, my God,” escaped the senator’s lips. Mac noticed the look of horror replaced with disbelief.
Lyman lightly grabbed Johnson by the arm, and quietly asked, “Anything else?”
“That’s what we have,” Mac replied, then looking squarely at the senator, ticking off his fingers. “I have you leaving her place at the time of death. I have your prints and will get your DNA. I have no evidence of forced entry or robbery, but you had easy access. I have a murder victim dying a violent death, strangled by someone of obvious strength. I have you, tall, strong and physically capable.” Then back to Lyman, “I’ll agree with you, the senator’s been cooperative. The only thing he hasn’t confirmed is that he killed Claire Daniels, but the evidence says he did.” Mac folded his arms and sat back in his chair, “So, at this point it would seem that Senator Johnson might want to think about helping himself, not us.”
The senator, flushed, glaring at Mac, growled, “I don’t fucking believe this.”