Night and Day (17 page)

“He doesn’t trust the police department?” Nedelmann asked.

“He didn’t say, but my guess is no,” I replied. “He knew they had arrested me for the
murder and that I was on the fast track to the dinner table. And he believed, correctly, that I
wasn’t the killer. It’s possible that made him less than comfortable with the direction the police
investigation was taking.”

I was silent for a moment, then said, “Also, there’s a personal factor. Joshua was his
bloodson. Joshua was also my partner and my friend. If Bain hadn’t hired me to find Joshua’s
murderer, I would have done it on my own. I think he probably knew that.” I paused and smiled.
“Of course, having the full weight and resources of the Area Governor’s Office behind us should
make things a little easier.”

“We can only hope,” Nedelmann said.

I nodded. “Easy or hard, it’s all the same. We’re going to find who killed Joshua. And
we’re going to do whatever we have to. We’ll probably have to step on toes, maybe powerful
toes. Toes that aren’t used to being stepped on. And we start tonight.” I turned to Takeda. “Do
you have anything important you need to do this evening?”

She shook her head. “My instructions are to assist you in your investigation, until General
Bain assigns an investigator to this office.”

“Would you ask General Bain to hold off on bringing somebody in? This investigation is
personal for me, and I intend to handle it with Dick’s help. I want to move fast and hard, and we
don’t have time to break in a new investigator.”

“I will pass along your request,” she said. “Should I also advise the general that I will be
remaining in the city until your investigation is concluded?”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea. I don’t think we’ll need you every . . . night, but it would
be helpful to have you close if we do need you.”

Takeda nodded.

I turned back to face the others. “As of right now, the Joshua Thomas investigation is the
only active case this office is working. As part of that investigation, we’ll also be looking into
the . . . abduction of a man named Jedron Marsch by a couple of Uptown cops, as well as the
disappearance and murder of MaryAnn Klinger. I don’t know how yet, but there seems to be a
connection with Joshua’s murder. Sara, what cases was Joshua working on?”

“Couple of insurance scams, a divorce,” she said.

“Anything that won’t hold for a while?

Sara smiled. “My opinion or the client’s?”

“That’s what I figured. Call the clients tonight, tell them that their cases have been put on
the back burner temporarily. If they want to find somebody else, tell them we’ll refund their
retainer. If they want to complain, tell them to call the Deputy Area Governor’s Office. Anybody
calls with something new, tell them we’re booked up.”

“Got it.”

“Cynthia, as far as I know, the only active case I’m working right now is the Rachel Stein
missing person. I can make some calls and have Eastside District keep their eyes open for her.
Otherwise, I’m clear. If anybody calls looking to hire us, tell them we’re not taking new cases
right now. If it’ll wait, we’ll get back to them when we can. Otherwise they can find another
agency.”

Cynthia nodded.

“Okay. Tonight Dick and I are going to Uptown station for a little chat with some of the
detectives involved in the case.” I looked to Takeda. “Everything is arranged?”

“Yes,” she said. “They will be expecting us.”

“Us?”

“General Bain suggested that I accompany you, and I agree. In my experience, police
officers like to ask questions, not give answers. The general felt that my presence would
improve cooperation.”

“I thought that ID you gave me made cooperation mandatory.”

Takeda smiled. “That’s true. But if they have any questions about it, I’ll be there to provide
answers.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “How are we fixed for transportation?

“Your Jeep is downstairs. The tank is full, the papers are in the glove compartment, and
there’s a recharger for your cell phone. When you need fuel, you can get it at any government or
police motor pool..” She handed me the keys. “I have a pool vehicle for my own use.”

I tossed the keys to Nedelmann. “Dick, I need you to take Cynthia home. See her to her
door, then meet us at Uptown station. I’ll ride with Takeda.”

He nodded and stood. I took the brown ID holder from my pocket. “You’ll need this,” I
said. “Congratulations on the promotion.”

Nedelmann opened the ID and laughed. “Let me guess, the promotion is going to disappear
about the same time my assignment with the State Police does.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts.” I paused. “You carrying?”

He nodded. “I always carry. Streets aren’t safe after dark. Man needs a friend.” He
paused. “My little .45 is a close and dear friend.”

“Good. Listen, I’m not sure how things are going to play out, but they might get a little . . .”
I paused, searching for the right word. “. . .physical tonight. Might want to stop by the station and pick up a sap or
something.”

Nedelmann smiled. “Good times. I’ll come prepared, you bet.”

“See you at Uptown station.”

“I’ll be there.”

As Cynthia went past, I put a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for staying, Cynthia,” I said. “I
appreciate it.”

She nodded. “Do you want me to come in tomorrow?”

I hesitated a second, then shook my head. “No. You and Sara can both take the weekend
off. I’ll be working through, but I shouldn’t need either of you here. If I do, I’ll call.”

Cynthia nodded again. “It was nice meeting you Sara. You too, Takeda-sama.” Before they
could say anything, she hurried out the door behind Nedelmann.

I turned to Sara. Before I could say anything, she said, “I’ll get on those phone calls to
Joshua’s clients.”

“Good.”

She smiled. “And I’ll see you when you get back.” She rubbed against me as she left the
office.

I sighed and looked to Takeda. She was smiling faintly. “What?” I asked.

“My briefing didn’t indicate that you were romantically involved with Miss Tindell,” she
said.

“I’m not,” I said quickly.

“I see,” she said. The faint smile was still there. “Shall we go?”

Chapter Fifteen

The room had an old, familiar stink, the smell of cheap cigars and eager, sweating cops,
waiting for a suspect to say the right thing. Or the wrong thing. The smell was part of the walls,
the floor, the handful of simple wooden chairs arrayed in a line in front of the window. I hadn’t
smelled it in almost five years, since I’d been a cop, but it wasn’t something you forget.

On the other side of the one-way glass, Ray Holstein sat in a large, wooden chair, held
securely to the arms and legs of the chair by thick leather straps. Maybe they’d caught him in the
locker room or shower. He was stripped to the waist, and his pale, hairless chest gleamed in
the bright lights of the room.

The chair was large, almost like a throne. If anything, it looked a lot like an old electric
chair that had been pulled out of a prison somewhere after lethal injection became the preferred
method of capital punishment.

There wasn’t any more capital punishment, at least not for humans. For a Vee, that would
be like throwing away a perfectly good sandwich.

Wherever it came from, a single chair with leather straps wasn’t standard interview
room furniture, at least not when I’d been a cop. Law enforcement had changed.

Behind Holstein, a pair of Vees stood against the back wall. Both wore the same midnight-blue uniforms and red berets as the officer at Bain’s house, and both had pistols at their hips. I’d
seen half a dozen others spread out in the halls of Uptown station when I followed Takeda to the
observation room. Area Security Force. It was clear that Takeda didn’t want the Uptown cops interfering with
the night’s activities.

The door opened and Nedelmann came in. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing. Party hasn’t started yet.” I jerked my chin at the one-way glass. “Birthday boy is
here though.”

Nedelmann stared through the glass and grinned wolfishly. “Holstein’s looking well-fed,”
he said.

Holstein’s mouth was moving, and his head was jerking from side to side as he strained
against the leather straps. I hadn’t turned on the speakers yet.

Takeda opened the door and stuck her head in. “Shall we begin?” she asked.

I nodded.

“I’ll knock on the glass when we’re ready for you.” She closed the door.

“What does she mean, ready for us?” Nedelmann asked.

“Takeda wants to have a chat with Holstein before we go in. Grease the wheels, make it
clear to him that cooperation is his only option.”

Nedelmann laughed. “Holstein never struck me as the cooperative type.” The two of them
had history, going back before the war, when we were all at the 83
^rd
Street station. I never
heard what it was about him that Holstein didn’t like, but he never missed a chance to give
Nedelmann a hard time. I knew for a fact that Dick had lost out on a patrol sergeant slot because
of Holstein.

Through the glass, I watched as the interview room door opened and Takeda walked into the
room. As she closed the door, I leaned forward and flipped the speaker switch in time to hear
Holstein say, “Maybe I’ll finally get some fucking answers.”

Takeda turned to him. From my angle, I could see her smile. “Detective Sergeant Raymond
Holstein?”

Holstein straightened in the chair, as well as he could with the straps that held him. “Yeah,
that’s right. Who the hell are you?”

“Takeda,” she said. “Area Governor’s Office.”

“Well whooptie-fucking-do,” he said. “You want to tell me just what the fuck I’m doing
here?”

Takeda looked around the room slowly. “This is an interrogation room, sergeant,” she said.
“I would have thought a man with your many years of police experience would have been able to
connect the dots.”

Nedelmann smiled. “I guess she doesn’t like Holstein either.”

“Very fucking amusing,” Holstein was saying, baring his teeth at her. “Unfortunately you’re
not in the Area Governor’s Office right now, you slant-eyed bitch. This is my station, and I want
to know what the fuck you think you’re doing here. Let’s hear it. Chop-chop.”

Takeda stood very still. She cocked her head to one side and asked, “What did you call me,
sergeant?”

“I called you a slant-eyed fucking bitch!” Holstein shouted. “That hurt your feelings?
Cause if it did, you’re really gonna be crying your slitty eyes out in a second.”

She nodded slowly. “Please,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Indulge
yourself.”

Holstein started in on her. When I’d worked with him, he’d always had a filthy mouth, and
he had a real hard time keeping it under control. The years hadn’t mellowed him any.

I was just about to sit back and enjoy the show when the door to my right flew open and three guys
came into the observation room. The one in the lead was stocky with thick red hair and a face
almost the same color.

“What the hell are you two bloodsacs doing in my station?” he asked. The two uniformed
city cops behind him fanned out, one on either side of the door.

“Who are you?” I asked, flipping off the speakers. Normal conversation was impossible
with Holstein’s nearly-incoherent swearing.

“Who am I?” he asked, his eyes wide. “I’m John X. Flannery, District Chief, Metropolitan
Police, and you’re in my goddamn station. That’s who I am.”

I nodded. “I’m glad you stopped by, chief. It’ll save me some time when we’re finished
here.”

Flannery stared at me, his lips tightly compressed. “The goon outside who is, by the way,
denying me access to one of my detective sergeants, says you’re in charge of this clusterfuck.”

“That’s right,” I said, my hand in my pocket. I pulled out the ID holder and flipped it open,
holding it up so he could read it.

He stepped closer, bumping Nedelmann out of the way. I saw Dick smile.

“Special Agent Charles Welles,” he read. His eyes met mine. “I guess the Area Governor’s
Office is hard-up for help if they’re hiring bloodsacs as special agents.”

“Read the rest of it,” I suggested.

His eyes went back to the card, and I saw him moving his lips while he read. They stopped
moving before he got to the end, and he eased back a step or two.

I closed the ID holder and stuck it back in my pocket. “You were saying?

“This is a city police station,” he said slowly. “If the AG’s office is going to be conducting
business here, especially if that business involves city police personnel, it’s customary to inform
ranking officers in advance.”

“Didn’t have time, chief,” I replied. “You know how it goes. Sometimes things get ahead
of you and you have to move fast just to keep up.”

Flannery continued to stare at me, the beginning of a frown creasing his forehead. “Welles,”
he said. “Weren’t you . . .”