He tries to keep the smile out of his voice.
"Well, good for you, Charles. I'm happy for you."
"I need a favor, Diane. After you left me, I did a lot of soul-searching. My therapist says I'm a different man now, but I still carry a lot of guilt over how I hurt you. As long as I have this guilt, I won't be much good for anyone, myself included."
He was reading out of a notebook filled with chicken scratches, sentences rewritten over and over until they sounded right.
"I need to see you, Diane, to apologize in person. If I know you've forgiven me, then I can get on with my life."
"I forgive you, Charles."
"Then let me say it in person. Please. You don't owe me anything, but we were in love once. It's the final step in my recovery. Please. Let me see you once more."
He holds his breath, waiting for her answer.
"Fine. When?"
"What are you doing tonight?" the Gingerbread Man asks.
He grins. He'll finally get to use that soldering iron.
Chapter 38
I WANT MY LAWYER," SAID Harry McGlade.
He sat in interrogation room C, in the same chair Phin had yesterday, Benedict and I standing over him. I had a car pick McGlade up and bring him here after we left Mrs. Marx. So far he was the only link between the two identified victims. I wasn't about to set foot in his apartment ever again, so questioning him here was the logical course of action. I suppose the intimidation aspect was also a factor.
But McGlade was not easily intimidated.
"I told you, you don't need a lawyer, McGlade. You're just answering some questions. You aren't being charged with anything."
"So what's with the media circus? What do you think that's doing for my reputation?"
Before Harry arrived, I left anonymous tips with several individuals involved in reporting the news that a suspect was being brought in. They kindly waited in front of the station and took three thousand pictures of Harry as he entered. I figured it would help make McGlade cooperative.
And if I could admit to being small, I also thought it was damn funny.
"Do you recognize this woman?" Benedict held up the photo of the first Jane Doe.
"How many times do I have to say it before it sinks into that Pillsbury Doughboy head? I don't recognize her. I knew Theresa because she hired me. I knew Nancy because Theresa introduced her to me. I dated Nancy a few times."
"How did Theresa and Nancy know each other?"
"I think they went to the same health club."
"Which one?"
"I don't know. Look, Nancy came in one day, said she wanted me to follow her boyfriend, said Theresa referred her to me. I didn't pursue it."
"Are you sure you don't want to check your cereal box?"
Harry made a sour face and picked some crud off his jacket. There were so many wrinkles in his suit that he gave the impression of just crawling out of a washing machine, save for the fact that he was covered with stains.
"I don't know how they were connected, Jackie. But I do know a few big-city lawyers who get their rocks off suing cops for defamation of character and false arrest."
"You're not under arrest, McGlade."
"Then I can leave." McGlade stood up.
I got in his face, glaring. "Don't you care about these women?"
"That's not the point. This treatment is unnecessary, and I'm getting pissed off. All you and Tonto the Wonder Chimp had to do was drop by my office. But instead you drag me here, and I get my name splashed all over the news in connection with your lousy case. Would you hire a private investigator who was a suspect in three serial murders?"
Of course I wouldn't. That was the idea.
"If you cooperate, Harry, I release a statement saying you helped us catch the guy. That without your valuable insight and expertise, we never could have cracked this case."
McGlade batted this around between his ears. After a few seconds, his face split into a big-toothed grin.
"Smooth, Jackie. It's about time you learned how to play hardball. You were so straightlaced back when we were partners."
Benedict jerked his thumb at Harry and gave me the eyebrow. "He was your partner? That's awful."
"Thanks for the sympathy, Chubbs, but it wasn't so bad. I got razzed a lot, getting paired with a broad. But in the end, it all worked out okay. Didn't it, Jackie?"
McGlade winked, then blew me a kiss.
I made a fist, and Herb had to pull me away before I broke the little wiener's nose.
"Don't let him rattle you, Jack."
But Harry did more than just rattle me. Much more.
When we were partners, I actually thought he was an okay guy, hygiene aside. He pulled his weight, watched my back, and we had one of the best arrest records in the district.
This was right after my promotion to detective third class, and I was out to prove to the brass that I could play with the big boys. I worked twice as hard as the men, for only half the respect. To compensate for this, whenever I had any downtime, I worked cold cases. Murder had no statute of limitations, and unsolveds were never officially closed.
A particular case commanded a good deal of my attention; the rape/murder of a fifteen-year-old girl in Grant Park. Witnesses claimed to have seen her talking with a homeless man in a red baseball cap half an hour before her death. This angle had been extensively followed up, and led nowhere.
I chose to look closer at her ex-boyfriend. Straight-A student, no record, plenty of friends. His alibi for the night of the murder was shaky, but no one could believe he was a killer.
He did, however, collect baseball caps. He had samples from every team in the Major League, with two notable exceptions: Boston and Cincinnati. I thought it a little funny, that an avid collector would be missing the only two hats in MLB that were red.
It took a year, and cost me my marriage, but I pieced together a good case against the kid. Before I sought a warrant, I shared my findings with my partner, to get his opinion.
Harry repaid my trust by getting a warrant first, then arresting the suspect himself on my day off.
Not only did Harry get credit for the collar and a subsequent promotion, but when I complained to my lieutenant, McGlade trumpeted that he made the arrest to protect me.
"He was a dangerous murderer. Sending a woman after him would have been really stupid."
The department rallied around him, and the chauvinism in my department plumbed new depths. All of my hard work, all of my fighting to be treated as an equal in a male-dominated profession, gone because my partner was a sexist, backstabbing jerk.
It was years before I earned back the respect of my squad. But I couldn't ever forgive Harry.
I took a deep breath, unclenched my fist, and put on a big smile.
"Remind me again why you were kicked off the force, McGlade."
His smile lost some wattage. "I wasn't kicked off. I quit."
"You mean you quit after you were forced to take a leave of absence. Something to do with taking bribes, wasn't it?"
"I wasn't on the take. Someone set me up."
"And who'd want to do that to a sweet guy like you?"
He frowned. "Was it you, Jackie?"
"No, Harry. But I wasn't too sad to hear about it. Whatever happened to those bribery charges?"
"Dropped when I left."
"Isn't your PI license up for renewal soon?"
McGlade folded his arms and scowled.
"I take one bust from you fifteen years ago and you want to mess with my livelihood?"
"No, McGlade. I want you to help us catch a murderer. Now sit, and tell us about your investigation of Talon Butterfield." I forced a tight smile and added, "Please."
Harry weighed my sincerity, then sat down.
"Not much to tell. Nancy pretended to go out of town for the weekend, had me follow him to see what he did. He went barhopping, picked up some little honey, and took her straight back to their place. Did it right on Nancy's bed. I had to climb the fire escape to take pictures."
"And how many times did you see Nancy after that?"
"I don't know. Three or four. I think she used me to help get over Talon. I was happy to be of service."