Second Chance

Chapter 10

I VISITED THE CATCHINGS'S apartment, paid my respects, then I headed back to the Hall. This whole thing was incredibly depressing.

“Mercer's looking for you,” hollered Karen, our longtime civilian secretary, as I got into the office. “He sounds mad. Of course, he always sounds mad.”

I could imagine the folds under the chief's jaw getting even deeper with the afternoon headline. In fact, the entire Hall was buzzing with the news that the La Salle Heights murder victim had been related to one of our own.

There were several other messages waiting for me on my desk. At the bottom of the pile I came across Claire's name.

Tasha Catchings's autopsy should be finished by now. I wanted to hold off on Mercer until I had something concrete to report, so I called Claire.

Claire Washburn was the sharpest, brightest, most thorough M.E. the city ever had, notwithstanding the fact that she also happened to be my closest friend. Everyone associated with law enforcement knew it, and that she ran the department without a hitch while Chief Coroner Righetti, the mayor's stiff-suited appointee, traveled around the country to forensic conferences working on his political resume.

You wanted something done in the M. E.'s office, you called Claire.

And when I needed someone to set me straight, make me laugh, or just be there to listen, that's where I went, too.

“Where you been hiding, baby?” Claire greeted me with her always upbeat voice, which had the ring of polished brass.

“Normal routine.” I shrugged. “Staff appraisals, case write-ups... city-dividing, racially motivated homicides... ”

“Just my region of expertise.” She chuckled. “I knew I'd be hearing from you. My spies tell me you've got yourself a bitch of a case out there.”

“Any of those spies maybe work for the Chronicle and drive a beat-up silver Mazda?”

“Or the D. A.'s office, and a BMW five-thirty-five. How the hell do you think information ever gets down here, anyway?”

“Well, here's one, Claire. Turns out the dead little girl's uncle is in uniform. He's at Northern. And the poor kid ends up being a poster child for the La Salle Heights project in action. Top-of-the-line student, never once in trouble. Some justice, huh? This bastard leaves a hundred slugs in the church and the one that hits finds its way into her.”

“Uh-uh, honey.” Claire cut me off. “There were two of them in there.”

“Two...? She was hit twice?” EMS had been all over the body. How could we have failed to catch that?

“If I'm hearing you right, my guess is you think this shot was some kind of accident.”

“What are you saying?” “Honey,” Claire said soberly “I think you better come on down for a visit.”