New Hope for the Dead (23 page)
“Female. I don’t want any gay secretary.”
“A male secretary isn’t necessarily gay, Bill. The way unemployment is in Miami right now, I could get you a male secretary with a degree in economics. The line-item pays ten thousand a year, with COLA increments every six months.”
“I’d rather have a woman.”
“Okay. But when you advertise the position, remember that you can’t specify that you would rather have a woman. You and Slater can work out the ad. Now we haven’t got a written job description for you yet, but there’s no hurry. None of the divisions know exactly what to do with this new rank. But I’ll work on it with Captain Slater, and you can put any suggestions you have in writing and send them to me. Okay? I guess you’d better get going. You’ve got a lot to do.”
“Yes, sir.” Henderson got up, gave the major a halfhearted salute, and left the office. Hoke stood up, too.
“Just a minute, Hoke, I want to talk to you.”
Hoke sat down again, and took out his cigarettes. He lit a Kool and put the match into the major’s ashtray.
“I understand,” the major said, “that Officer Sanchez is living with you now.”
“She’s renting a room from me in my new house in Green Lakes. But that doesn’t mean she’s
living
with me, if that’s what you’re implying. I’ve got my two daughters with me now, and she’s been a big help to me with them.”
“I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
“Yes you did, Major, but that’s your hang-up, not mine. I know you’re a deacon in your church and all, but there’s no rule against us living together, even if we were. We’re partners, and without any regular hours, so our arrangement will work out fine.”
“Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I don’t want any criticism. People like to talk, you know.”
“Not as much as you think. At any rate, you’ll have to talk to Ellita about this, not me. She told me already that she wanted to talk to you.”
“All right. My door is always open. Tell her to come and see me. But meanwhile, I’m leaving you two on the cold cases for an indefinite period, not just the two months I originally planned. A time limit of any kind is too restricting, and sort of defeats the idea. What are you working on now?”
“The Dr. Raybold homicide. It’s four years old, but it’s our best bet. He was shot in his driveway at six-fifteen in the morning. We know the approximate time because the man on the paper route discovered the body when he threw the paper on the lawn, and the body was still warm. But nobody saw the shooting. Mrs. Raybold was still asleep, and didn’t hear the shots. There were two of them, one in the head, and one through the heart. There were no clues at all, but six months later Mrs. Raybold married Dr. Sorenson, who was Raybold’s partner in the clinic. This was a professional hit, and whoever did it probably knew that Raybold had an operation scheduled at St. Mary’s Hospital at 7
A.M.
He wasn’t robbed, for example—”
“So you think Dr. Sorenson and Mrs. Raybold wrote the prescription?”
“Yeah, but there’s more to it than that. If you want, I’ll get the file and we’ll go over it, but right now all I can say is that it’s promising. There’s nothing definite yet.”
“Never mind. You know what you’re doing. Just keep me up to date in the weekly reports. I’m not looking for any miracles. You’ve done a hell of a job so far, and the best thing I can do for you is stay out of your hair.”
“Yes, sir.” Hoke stood up. “Is there anything else, Major?”
“No—yes. You know Henderson better than I do. He didn’t seem very enthusiastic about his promotion.”
“He’s happy enough, Willie. It’s just a lot to absorb all at once, that’s all. But no one would be thrilled, knowing he had to work with Captain Slater every day.”
“Maybe that’s it.” Brownley stood up. “Thanks for coming in, Hoke.”
“Yes, sir.” Hoke went back out to his office and opened the drawers to his desk. Now that he had to move, he decided to clean out all the accumulated junk first and throw it away before toting the rest of his things down to the interrogation room. Henderson, with all of the work he had to do, would be needing the big desk right away …
The phone rang a few minutes after eleven. Ellita Sanchez was on the phone. “I called earlier, Hoke, but I guess you were still in with Major Brownley. I just left the doctor’s office. I got there at nine forty-five, but I didn’t get in to see the doctor till ten-thirty. But the nurse took my urine specimen at ten, so I didn’t have to hold the jar in my lap.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“I’m fine. No problems. I don’t have to see him again for six weeks.”
“Good. You can come in then, and help on the move. We’re moving permanently into Room 3. Tonight we’ll take the girls out to dinner and celebrate.”
“Celebrate what? Moving out of the office?”
“No. Bill Henderson got promoted. He made commander, the new rank the paper mentioned yesterday. Remember?”
“Bill made it? How come he got it instead of you?”
“Dumb luck. That’s why we’re celebrating. It could have been me.”
Copyright © 1985 by Charles Willeford
Introduction copyright © 1996 by James Lee Burke
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Vintage Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Vintage is a registered trademark and Vintage Crime/Black Lizard
and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
The Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress.
eISBN: 978-0-307-48870-1
v3.0
