"That should be enough to keep you and your people busy."
"And the third guy down in Ramah?" Molina asked, consulting his notes.
"Scott Gatlin."
"I have an agent on the way there now," Perry replied.
"We'll handle it."
"What about the papers and items that were removed from Mrs. Terrell's residence last night?" Molina asked.
"Nothing of value to the investigation was taken," Perry said.
"I'm supposed to trust you on that?" Molina snapped back.
Perry fiddled with his pen before replying.
"The ambassador's personal property was secured at his request and consisted of nothing more than photographs, books, and memorabilia."
"Then why wasn't I allowed to inventory the contents last night before the boxes were removed by your two agents?"
"Because, as I just said, it had no bearing on the case," Perry replied.
"I want to do a full-scale search of the residence," Molina said.
Perry reached for another folder.
"Agent Applewhite asked the ambassador to sign a permission-to-search form late last night. He was more than willing to do so."
Perry passed it down the table, watched Molina read it, and then turned his attention to Kerney.
"I'd like Agent Applewhite and another agent to assist in the search, if that's all right with you, Chief."
"No problem," Kerney said.
Perry smiled thinly.
"Good. Then there's only a few more issues to cover. Susan Straley has arrived from Virginia and Proctor Stra ley is on his way to Santa Fe now. My people will conduct the necessary interviews. Also, I've called a press briefing at noon to release the name of the victim, announce the formation of the task force, and read a prepared statement from the ambassador."
Perry's smile widened.
"Unless you'd rather handle it, Chief Kerney."
"Go for it, Charlie," Kerney said, looking at the tidy, neat rows of agents flanking Perry at the far end of the table.
"But tell me, what will the rest of the task force be doing while we're searching the house and interviewing Mrs. Terrell's boyfriends?"
Perry stood up.
"I'm unable to discuss that, but I'll keep you informed to the extent that I can. Let's get to it."
Outside, Kerney waited for Sal Molina to appear. Sunlight and an unseasonably warm day had melted the remaining snow on all but the foothills and mountains, and the intense blue sky seemed limitless. On the Interstate a steady stream of vehicles moved in both directions.
Molina came out the door in a hurry, cell phone in hand.
"That unattended death at the college was a homicide, Chief. A priest had his throat cut."
"Do you have any more specifics?"
"That's all I know. I can only spare one detective."
"I'll back him up," Kerney said.
"Great."
"Contact the Armed Forces Record Center in St. Louis. See if they'll release a copy of Ambassador Terrell's service jacket."
"You don't buy the killed-by-a-lover theory?"
"Right now I don't buy any theory. Since the feds have locked us out of the trade-mission slant, let's take a look at Terrell through the back door. Put someone on a computer, have him surf newspaper archives, and find out what Terrell did between the time he retired from active duty and his appointment as an ambassador. I want it as specific and complete as possible."
"You got it."
"And I want Proctor and Susan Straley interviewed by our people after the feds are finished with them."
"That will raise the feds' eyebrows." Molina watched as Kerney rubbed his chin and looked at him thoughtfully.
"Anything else?"
Kerney hesitated before responding. He had to start trusting his senior officers, otherwise he would never find out who he could count on.
"Find out who told Applewhite that we'd picked up Santiago Terjo for questioning. The information had to come from within the department."
"You want Internal Affairs to handle it?"
"No, you do it. Concentrate on the detectives, officers, and technicians who were at the crime scene."
Molina inclined his head toward the door.
"What in the hell was going on in there with you and Agent Perry?"
"It's old business," Kerney said.
"Make sure you put Applewhite and her partner under constant observation during the house search. I don't want anything else disappearing from the residence. Take photographs while you're there.
If Applewhite questions it, say it's department policy. Get me a few good shots of her."
Applewhite came out the door with another agent before Molina could ask what in the hell was going on.
"We're ready to roll, Chief," she said, with a nod and a smile in Molina's direction.
"Lieutenant Molina will guide you to the house," Kerney said as he stepped away to his unit.
After World War Two the College of Santa Fe, an independent institution founded by four Christian Brothers in 1859, had relocated from a site near the plaza to the surplus Fort Burns Army Hospital at the edge of town. Now besieged by urban sprawl and bordered by major roads, the campus was more or less tucked away from view except for the main entrance off St. Michael's Drive.
Over the past twenty years the college had built a reputation for its liberal arts, performance, and fine arts programs.
Kerney drove past the flashy new garnet-red Visual Arts Center, an ultramodern building of exceedingly sharp angles, rows of geometrically square and rectangular windows, stiff jutting cornices, and pyramid domes, to the old army barracks, where two squad cars, an unmarked unit, a crime-tech vehicle, and an ambulance were parked.
Officer Herrera once again stood guard, positioned at the gate to the courtyard entrance with clipboard in hand next to a sign that read,
"Christian Brothers Residence."
Kerney wondered if Herrera was good at anything other than checking people in and out of crime scenes. He had his doubts.
He sat in his car for a long minute looking at the barracks, which sported new roofs and siding, but clearly proclaimed a wartime heritage.
Although brown and dormant, the courtyard was a showcase of ardent gardening and careful landscaping, with curving walkways, carefully pruned shrubs, a grass lawn, mulched flower-beds, and ornamental trees.
Around the perimeter of the buildings mature pine and cedar trees over arched the roofs and provided screening.
Kerney wondered how long it would be before the college tore the barracks down, and hoped it never happened. Not every structure worth saving had to be an architectural marvel, and there was something to be said for preserving a few reminders of a time when the country had been defended by millions of citizen soldiers.
"Did you see the body?" Kerney asked as he signed in with Herrera.
"Just for a minute," Cloudy answered.
"Then Sergeant Catanach arrived and stationed me out here."
"Did you detain any witnesses?"
"Like I said, Chief, the sergeant took over."
Kerney looked into Herrera's dull gray eyes and decided to trust the hunch that popped up.
"Did anyone from outside the department come by the Terrell crime scene yesterday?"
"Yeah, an FBI agent stopped by just before I was relieved. Some woman.
I don't remember her name. Applegate, or something like that."
"What did she want?"
"Just to know what was happening with the case."
"And?" Kerney prodded, trying to keep a scolding tone out of his voice.
"I filled her in."
"What did you tell her?"
"That we had a suspect, the Mexican guy."
"Did she ask permission to inspect the crime scene?"
"No."
"Did you document the conversation?" Kerney asked.
"What for?" Herrera said with a shrug.
Kerney forced a smile.