Deadly Justice

18

MIKE THREW HIS DIRTY overcoat onto one of Ben’s overstuffed office chairs. “Christ, Ben, you’re turning into a goddamn homicide magnet!”

“Attempted homicide,” Ben corrected. “Crichton survived the attempt.”

“Just barely.”

“Barely means his heart is beating. Ergo, no homicide.”

“Only because you were in the right place at the right time and decided to play Superman off the giant’s ladder. By the way, I’m impressed. What’s next for you, bungee jumping?”

Ben waved his bandaged hands in the air. The rope burns on his hands were deep and slow to heal. “I just did the first thing that occurred to me. I didn’t have time to think about it.”

“Don’t soft soap me, Ben. I think it was a damn gutsy move for a guy who used to get woozy sitting in his high chair.”

“Who told you that?”

“My ex. Your sister. So don’t bother denying it.”

“Yeah, well, those high chairs are damn high when you’re only two feet tall.” He closed the thick evidence treatise he’d been reading to prepare for the discovery motion he was arguing that afternoon. “So how’s the murder investigation coming?”

“Which one? The teenagers? Or Howard Hamel?”

“Let’s start with the teenagers. I saw in the paper that the killer claimed another victim.”

“Right. His fourth.” Mike slammed his fist into his hand. “Goddamn it, I’d like to catch that bastard. Four victims now, and we’re still virtually clueless.”

“There must be some leads. Some pattern.”

“Other than the obvious—all his victims are teenage girls—no. Or at least, none that we’ve detected.”

“What about the mutilation?”

“Repeated on this victim as well. No head, no hands.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“What’ve you got on the Hamel murder?”

“What’ve I got? You’re the one who’s supposed to be cracking that case wide open. What’ve you got?”

“Well, I think I flushed out the killer. From sixty feet in the air.”

“Quite possible.” Mike paced agitatedly across Ben’s office. “The lab finished its microscopic analysis of Crichton’s belay line. No doubt about it—it was cut. We searched the area, as you know, and searched everyone on the site. We didn’t find anything. And unfortunately, you didn’t see who did it.”

“No, but I’ve got an office building full of suspects. Man, you wouldn’t believe this Apollo crew. What a collection of back-stabbing, butt-licking—”

“Hey, don’t complain to me. You’re the one who thought this job would solve all your problems.”

“I did not—oh, what’s the use? Has Koregai finished his autopsy report on Hamel?”

Mike tossed himself into a chair and plopped his muddy boots on Ben’s desk. “He says Hamel was strangled to death. Hamel was wearing a high-collar shirt, you’ll recall—that’s why you didn’t see any marks on him. While the killer was relocating the body, Hamel cut his hand on something—that’s the source of the blood in your car. The cut must’ve occurred fairly soon after the murder—otherwise there wouldn’t have been so much bleeding.”

“Did your men turn up any physical evidence?”

“Nothing that appears useful. We not only searched the Apollo building, we searched the alley behind your boardinghouse and scoured the entire neighborhood. And Jesus, what a neighborhood you live in. I could’ve found more people willing to talk to cops at the penitentiary. We didn’t learn a damn thing.”

“I saw Hamel’s office roped off with yellow crime scene tape. Find anything there?”

“Nothing that held any significance to me. You’re welcome to take a look yourself.”

“Thanks, I will. What about Hamel’s house?”

“The widow’s been giving us some trouble there. Normally I’d be able to get a warrant in a heartbeat, but it turns out Judge Carter is a personal friend of the family and is making a lot of noise about us not intruding on her grief with an unnecessary search. He refused to sign the warrant and put out the word that he’d consider it a personal affront if any other judge did. And he is Chief Judge this term.”

“And to think people blame lawyers for the slow wheels of justice.”

“Yeah. And it’s only true about ninety percent of the time. Don’t worry, we’ll get the warrant eventually.”

“Great. Call me as soon as you do. I’d like to help.”

“I think I can arrange that. Especially since Chief Blackwell has practically deputized you.”

“Yeah, with a threat of life imprisonment. You think he’s serious about hauling me in at the end of the week?”

“I’m afraid so. Deadly serious.”

“Swell. My time is running out. So call me as soon as you get the warrant.”

“Will do, kemo sabe. I’ll be in touch. And Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I picked up a brochure you might be interested in. Have a nice day.”

Ben glanced at the brochure Mike had placed under a paperweight on his desk: SAM AND JERRY’S FLYING CIRCUS—SKYDIVING ON THE CHEAP.