The phone was ringing as Stone reached his desk. He picked it up. “Hello.”
“Detective Barrington?” a husky voice said.
“Yes, speaking.”
“This is Hank Morgan.”
“Yes, Ms. Morgan. Did you think of something else?”
“I… I lied to you, I’m afraid.”
“How so?”
“I was at home alone the night Sasha fell. Chelsea wasn’t with me. She said that to protect me, but I realize this is serious, and I don’t want to involve her. I hope you’ll for get that I didn’t tell you the truth the first time; I’m telling you the truth now.”
“All right, we’ll forget your first statement and leave Chelsea out of it.”
“Thank you.”
“What time did you get home that night?”
“I worked on the evening news, so it would have been about eight thirty.”
“Did anyone see you? The doorman, maybe?”
“I live in a walk-up in the West Village. There’s no doorman.”
“Anybody else? A neighbor?”
“No. There are only two apartments in the building, and my downstairs neighbor was on vacation.”
“Did you go out again for any reason?”
“No. I read until about eleven, then I went to sleep.”
“I see. Ms. Morgan, I’d like you to come up to the Nineteenth Precinct to be fingerprinted. It might help us eliminate you as a suspect.”
She paused for a long time. “I don’t think I want to do that,” she said. “I’ve already talked to a lawyer, and he advised me not to cooperate any further than this.”
“That’s your right,” Stone said. “But I have to tell you that the Supreme Court doesn’t consider being fingerprinted to be self-incriminating. We may have to insist.”
“I suppose that’s your right,” she replied. “But I haven’t done anything wrong, and you don’t have any real reason to suspect me. So I won’t be having anything else to say.”
“I’m sorry you’ve decided to do it this way, Ms. Morgan.”
“Good afternoon, Detective Barrington.” She hung up.
Stone told Dino about their conversation.
“Bingo!” Dino cried. “Let’s go see Leary.”
“Wait a minute,” Stone said. “I just remembered something.” He went to the evidence room, dug out Sasha Nijinsky’s financial records, and began leafing through her checkbook.
“What are you looking for?” Dino asked.
“I remember some checks Sasha wrote. Here! One… two… three of them, all made out to Henrietta Morgan! The name meant nothing to me at the time.” He totted up the amounts in his head. “Total of twenty thousand dollars over eight weeks, listed as loans. You know what this smells like, Dino?”
“Blackmail!” Dino yelled. “Miss Hank says, ‘Pay me, Sasha, or I’ll tell all!’ Let’s go see Leary!”
Leary beamed at them. “I knew good police work was going to break this case.” He chortled. “Pick her up right now.” He reached for the phone. “I’ll call Delgado; he’ll call Waldron.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lieutenant,” Stone said, “not yet, anyway. Let’s get her up here and hear her story first.”
“Get your asses out of here and bring in the dyke!” Leary said, dialing.
“This is insane!” Hank Morgan said, interrupting Stone in his reading of her rights. “You aren’t handcuffing me!”
“If you can’t afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you,” Stone concluded. “I’m sorry about the cuffs; it’s department policy.” He took her raincoat from a hook on the wall and placed it over her shoulders. “Don’t worry, no one here will see them.”
“Let’s go, lady,” Dino said.
“I want to call my lawyer,” she said shakily.
“You can call her from the precinct,” Dino said. “Let’s go.”
Stunned into silence, Hank Morgan accompanied the two detectives out of the building and into their car.
“Is there anything you want to tell us before we get to the station?” Stone asked her.
Morgan shook her head. “I want my lawyer,” she said.
“Uh, oh,” Dino said as they pulled up to the entrance of the 19th Precinct. “What’s this?”
“Leakiest precinct in the city,” Stone said, slamming his fist against the dashboard in frustration.
A knot of reporters crowded the sidewalk. Television lights went on. Stone and Dino got Morgan out of the car and hustled her into the building, shoving the shouting reporters out of the way.
“No comment,” Dino kept yelling.
“I want to call my lawyer,” Morgan said, when they were safe from the howling mob.
“Just as soon as we’ve fingerprinted and photographed you,” Stone said, unlocking her handcuffs.
She gave the fingerprints without further protest, then, while Stone had her photographed, Dino hand-carried the prints upstairs. Stone took Morgan into the squad room and put her in an empty cubicle, away from the stares of the other detectives.
Morgan put her face in her hands. “This is so humiliating,” she said.
“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” Stone replied, “but you’ve made it harder on yourself by refusing to cooperate.”
“I want my lawyer now,” she said.
Stone handed her the phone, and, hands shaking, she dialed a number. Stone noted that she didn’t have to look it up. He wondered how many innocent people knew their lawyers’ phone numbers off the tops of their heads.
Fifteen minutes passed, and Dino came breathlessly into the cubicle and hauled Stone out.
“Listen to this,” he said.
“Was one of her prints in Sasha’s apartment?” Stone asked. It would be too good to be true.
“Better than that, pal – we’ve got a palm print – and on the outside of the sliding glass door to the terrace. We can put her on the terrace!”
A weak, warm feeling flooded through Stone. “Jesus Christ!” He exhaled. All the work, all the sweat had been worth it. He had not realized until that moment how afraid he had been of this case and what it might do to him. “Let’s have another shot at her before her lawyer gets here,” he said, heading back for the cubicle.
Morgan was sitting rigidly in the steel chair, her hands clenched in her lap.
“Listen to me, Ms. Morgan,” Stone said, pulling up a chair. “You’ve already admitted to me that you and Sasha were having an affair, and that she was also having an affair with a man; that would make you pretty jealous, wouldn’t it? We’ve got canceled checks showing that Sasha paid you twenty thousand dollars in less than two months; your palm print was found on the terrace that Sasha fell from. We’ve got all that, Ms. Morgan, and we’re going to get more. Now, don’t you think it’s time you told us about it?”
Morgan’s shoulders began to shake, and tears rolled down her face.
Stone thought it was the only moment she had looked feminine since he had met her.
“Oh, God!” she moaned, “I want to tell you…”
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” a rumbling voice said from behind them.
Stone and Dino turned to see a tall man in a beautiful overcoat standing there.
“My name is Carlton Palmer; I’m Henrietta Morgan’s attorney; I know you won’t mind if I consult with my client. Alone,” he added for good measure.
The two detectives reluctantly gave up the field.
“Shit,” Dino muttered. “She was going to confess. We had her in the palm of our hands, and that slick bastard had to show up.”
“She had a right to see him, Dino,” Stone said. “To tell you the truth, I’d have been uncomfortable with a confession made before her lawyer got here.”
“She won’t say another fucking word now,” Dino complained. “We’ll just have to work our fucking balls off, making the case. If we’d had that confession, you and I would have made detective first by tomorrow morning.”
“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Stone commiserated. “She’ll never say a word to us now.”
Ten minutes later, Palmer came out of the cubicle. “Gentlemen,” he said, “my client will answer your questions now.”