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Authors: Kate Rothwell

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BOOK: The Detective's Dilemma
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He lifted her hand and kissed it.

What a pity she wore gloves and couldn’t feel his mouth against her skin. Again her body gave a slight tremor of anticipation, though of what she couldn’t imagine—certainly not their visit to Mr. Sawyer’s house.

The butler seemed to recognize them both. “You’re expected.” He sounded dubious, as if he couldn’t be blamed for letting riffraff into the house.

Julianna again had the impression of unobtrusive wealth, the sort that came into a family slowly through generations. Not like her own family’s home that had been full of baroque gold objects purchased to show off her father’s investments. The gold had been surface deep and the silver all plate as she’d discovered when she’d try to sell it all.

She walked by Caleb’s side and thought about his family—that at least the affection she’d grown up with in that gilded house hadn’t been sham. Had Caleb’s father always been so angry at him?

They moved toward the room where she’d waited with Mrs. Winthrop only yesterday. Mr. Sawyer waited there with four other men. He didn’t appear to notice her—all of his attention focused on Caleb. “This man, a detective with the police department, has admitted to me that he has worked for Gregory. He is the tool of corruption.”

She stopped behind Caleb, slightly shocked at the cold tone Mr. Sawyer used. They’d had a falling out, but hadn’t Mr. Sawyer gotten over his anger? Would he ever forgive Caleb? He’d been the one to suggest they play a married couple, and he’d seemed to relax his angry attitude just a day ago.

She suddenly felt glad she’d accompanied Caleb and was grateful for his support. Perhaps he’d known he’d need defense and that was the reason he’d asked her to come along. Very well, she wouldn’t disappoint him.

Chapter Ten

Good old Bruce hadn’t released his resentment.

This trumpeting of Walker’s guilt wasn’t a surprise—he’d agreed to come this morning knowing his old friend hadn’t finished extracting his angry revenge. It was the price he paid for involving Bruce, and he’d already decided to pay it without protest. Walker raised his hat in salute, then took it off. “Good morning, gentlemen. Mr. Sawyer, you’d like to take my statement in front of witnesses?” He walked over to Bruce and put a hand on his shoulder. His old friend flinched, but Walker moved even closer so only Bruce could hear. “You might want to leave Lesham out of anything confidential. I forgot to mention him yesterday but I suspect he’s a key part of the conspiracy.”

Bruce didn’t appear to listen. He pushed past Walker to get to Julianna. “Mrs. Winthrop. You’re here as well! Splendid. I expected you a bit later.” He sounded hearty, but Walker knew his old friend. That twitch of the mouth, the pink spots on his cheeks showed Bruce’s discomfort. “We’ll interview you in another room, ma’am, if you don’t mind.”

She folded her arms. “But I do mind, sir.”

“Your statement about yesterday’s events might be compromised if you listen to Mr. Walker’s account.”

“I won’t speak against him, if that is your goal.”

Walker wanted to cheer and seize her in a hug.

“Mrs. Winthrop, if this is the nonsense about your so-called marriage, I’ve informed the people who matter that the two of you are no more married than I am to Mr. Persky here.

“It’s fine,” Walker told her.

“I would rather stay here, if you please.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” one of the men said.

“That settles it. I’m staying.” She glared at each man in turn. “Good morning, I am Mrs. Winthrop, and you gentlemen are?”

“I apologize.” Bruce finally seemed flustered. “Mrs. Winthrop, this is Mr. Daniels, Mr. Lesham, and Mr. Phillips. And you know Mr. Persky.”

Walker couldn’t help grinning, thinking of the future. His Julianna was going to push him around and take control whenever she could. That would make for a far more vital and interesting life than any he’d planned.

He turned to Bruce. “I’ll tell the truth in her presence. In front of others…I’m not so sure.”

Bruce stroked his mustache with fingertips.

“Persky, you, Daniels, and I will interview these two in the library.” He went to the door and waited for the others to follow.

“Impressive. You have a library?” Walker asked as they walked down a broad corridor.

Bruce didn’t speak.

Walker said, “I always liked your family’s house, and this is even more pleasant.”

“Thank you.” Bruce spat out the phrase so it sounded like a curse.

He indicated an open door, and they all filed in, Julianna close at Walker’s side. She’d taken off her gloves, and for the briefest moment, her fingers brushed his knuckles. Her skin felt chilled. He wished he could take her hand and blow on her fingers, warm them up, and offer reassurance—although such an act could hardly help her in front of these investigators.

 

A round table sat in the middle of the dark little room. Bruce held a chair for Julianna, then grabbed the one to her right. Everyone else dragged out the heavy wooden chairs and took a seat, their faces turned toward Walker, who sat across from Bruce.

“All right, Walker, let’s hear what you have to say.”

“Sure.” He put his hat on the table in front of him, adjusted his collar and tie, then leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. Julianna gazed at him and wore a small encouraging smile. He spoke to her alone, ignoring the others. “I went crooked a few months ago.”

Someone gasped, but it wasn’t Julianna, and he didn’t care what the others thought. “Before that, I knew something was rotten in the state of Denmark, but I was too busy with my own investigations to go poking around in another swamp. I did my job and yeah, I got a couple of hints about side jobs. That’s what they’re called. Not a lot of the guys in the bureau where I work got caught up in that pit. I think they probably go after the uniformed officers more often. Recruit them early.”

He paused, wishing he had some water. The usual tension gripped him when he thought about the cesspool of corruption, and his mouth had gone dry. And his heart thumped hard as if he’d had too much coffee—or he’d been chasing a man with a knife down a dark alley.

The night before, Walker had spent a couple of hours writing up an account. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out three folded pieces of papers. “I have two lists. One is short. The guys I think are in on the sugar, all lower level.” Like the friend who’d probably turned him in when he’d dumped the gun in the murderer’s house. “But those won’t get you far.” He tapped the other piece of paper. “This might. I made a list of the people I, uh, approached on those side jobs. I have no idea about the guilt or innocence of these people. That wasn’t part of my job. I only know someone probably paid to have them ‘talked to’ by people like me.” He heard the bitterness in his own voice and fell silent.

“Who are your bosses?” Bruce demanded.

“Only one I know for sure is Bill Gregory, but I already told you that.”

Walker pushed the sheets across the table toward Bruce. “I wrote the names and addresses of every man and the one woman that I was dispatched to deal with.” He gave Julianna, that one woman, a quick smile. “I described what I was supposed to do and listed the other people from the department who worked with me on each assignment. This is in standard report form, and I’ve signed it. So whichever one of you gentlemen takes up the investigation, I’ve made your job easier.” He hesitated, then decided to add the last bit of information. “I know Lesham is from the prosecutor’s office, but I wouldn’t trust him. He and Winthrop and Gregory are awfully close companions.”

Two of the men looked surprised. Bruce gave a slow nod. “I wondered about that.”

“Good. Keep on wondering. Talk to Mrs. Winthrop, I mean Mrs. John Winthrop, about his visits to her house.”

He leaned back, finished in all senses of the word. From that day he’d gone into Gregory’s office and had his new course set by that bastard, he’d known he’d have to get off that road or die. Meeting up with Julianna meant he’d abandoned that life sooner than he’d expected and thank God for that. “I assume I’ll go to jail. Hah, but at least I’m not an innocent man.”

Julianna didn’t smile.

Bruce unfolded the paper. “My name isn’t on this list.”

“Good gravy, man. How many times must I tell you? This is the list of people who were approached on the sly after I was compromised and corrupted. I arrested you in the line of duty as a police officer, nothing more or less. I wasn’t a detective and when I asked questions, I was told in no uncertain terms that the details of your case were secret. That’s when I knew it was fishy. I didn’t know who ordered it. The why was money, but I learned that from you.”

Bruce pursed his lips, ran his fingers down his mustache.

“You believe him, don’t you?” Julianna asked Bruce.

He twitched the papers in his hand. “Your name is on this list, Mrs. Winthrop. I’m not sure why you’re so quick to defend him.”

She touched his arm, a tentative dab near his shoulder. “I expect that you remain angry because you cared for your friend and were surprised and disappointed to find he was not entirely honest.”

Walker winced, and Bruce gave her as cold a gaze as he’d ever directed at Walker. “What I feel about Mr. Walker is not relevant.”

“Certainly it is. Your anger is prompting you to chase him, when you should be going after the ones profiting most from this corruption.”

Daniels, who had the red nose of a drinker and thinning dark hair, leaned forward. “Mrs. Winthrop. We feel no one should escape our net, big fish or little. We are very eager to hear your account of yesterday.”

Mr. Sawyer said, “Recall, if you please, that we are doing what we can to help you.”

She gave him a cool look. “Mr. Walker and my mother-in-law have helped me. You are only eager to find the wrongdoers who hurt you--not make sure my son stays safe.”

Walker mimed cocking and pointing a gun at Sawyer, mouthing
she got you
, but Julianna ignored him and went on. “I know you’re right, Mr. Sawyer. You do help me--for we all wish to bring down the men you’re after, including my father-in-law.”

Persky interrupted, “Including Mr. Walker here. He said as much, and his account of his work includes intimidating you.”

“He came to my house and spoke to me. We went for a walk. That is all.”

“We have his account, don’t forget. You’re lying,” Persky said.

Walker considered smashing a fist into this idiot’s face for that sneering tone. In his anger, he must have shifted or made a noise, because Julianna caught his gaze, and the tiny shake of her head stopped him.

She smiled sweetly at Persky and, without a trace of impatience, answered, “No, I assure you, sir. If you are asking me to give a formal accounting of our time together, that is all I will say. He came to my house, and we went for a walk.”

She didn’t lie; she only left out a great many details. His Julianna was magnificent.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere.” Bruce gave an exaggerated sigh and leaned back in his chair. “What’ll you have me do with the list of names you gave me, Walker?”

“Do some digging. Follow the strings to the puppet masters. I don’t know who besides Gregory pulls those strings.”

“Why didn’t you do any digging? Get to the bottom of your…situation?”

He ignored the question, knowing any direct answer would sound like an excuse and he was done making them to himself or anyone else. “I’ve thought about it plenty. So are you going to do it?”

“What?”

“Visit the people on that list I gave you, talk to them, and if they didn’t dump a suitcase of cash somewhere, find out who their enemies are or anyone who might have a grudge against them. Sometimes the enemy will be pretty obvious, like the political organizer, the first name on there.”

“And then what?” said the sneering man. “Offer to threaten the people who intimidated them? Maybe we can make some money too?”

“Then you confront the enemies of the people on the list, figure out who hired the bent cops. See where they went looking for help ‘sorting things out.’ Basic investigation. I’d help, but I don’t think anyone on that list of people I visited is going to talk to me.”

No one on that list would open the door to him, other than Julianna, who watched him with a smile filled with warmth. God above, he hoped he saw affection in her eyes.

He rose to his feet. “I don’t think I have anything else you need. Mrs. Winthrop? Shall we go?”

She stood.

“We’re not done speaking to either one of you.” Bruce said. He rose to his feet and gave Julianna an apologetic bow.

“You have my address,” she told Bruce. “If you require my help persecuting or prosecuting my father-in-law, I will assist you in any way I can. But if you are going after Mr. Walker, Detective Walker” —she corrected herself—“I won’t be able to help you.”

Persky gave a snort. “You will if we need you.”

“You’re truly going to try to put him in jail?” she asked.

“We’re going to prosecute all the wrongdoers, including a corrupt thug of a cop, and you’ll have to testify,” Persky said.

He winced at that description of himself, but Julianna straightened her back, raised her chin, and folded her arms. “I do not. Not if he’s my husband.”

“Bah,” said Bruce.

“Yes,” Walker spoke over him. “I accept. Let’s go. Right now. Sorry, gentlemen, we can’t stay.” He hurried around the table and took her arm.

He almost dragged her from the room and past the blank-faced butler. Bruce called after them, “We shall be in touch, soon.” A threat.

“I wasn’t serious,” she said as they walked down the steps of Bruce’s house.

“Come on. We’re all talk and no action,” he said. “Let’s get married.”

“I don’t know you.”

He considered saying something about how they must hurry to the registry office, for the risk of getting to know him could make her change her mind…but he wasn’t sure about her sense of humor. Hell, he wasn’t actually sure if that was a joke.

He didn’t want to let her go, not without an excuse to see her again. “All right, we’ll put off the wedding for a day or so. Might I meet your son?”

“You’re interested in a small child?”

He hadn’t thought about children often, but if she wanted him to, all right. He tried to think of how he could express an interest without sounding entirely false. He could tell her the truth—he was interested in anything to do with her. And look even more like a moonstruck moron.

“I suppose it isn’t such a strange thought,” she said. “You are quite kind to Danny, after all. You must like children.”

Might as well not begin their future together based on a lie. “Danny is a friendly soul. I’m not sure…that is, I have met some kids I didn’t like.”

“That makes sense. They are people.”

“Or close enough.”

She rolled her eyes. “All right. Come home with me and meet my son.”

BOOK: The Detective's Dilemma
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