The Edge

Chapter 46

The two men stared at each other over the width of a table in the small interview room of the police station. A Bell and Howell surveillance camera that looked to be from the 1980s hung in the corner like a deflated party balloon.

Harper looked both cagey and pensive as he turned on a recorder and stated the date, time, and the identities of the two parties in the room.

Devine said, “Why are you doing this?”

“Are you having a relationship with Alex Silkwell?”

“What does that even mean?”

“I understand that you slept at her place one night, the night you were attacked.”

“Who told you that?”

“Is it true?” demanded Harper.

“I stayed in her art studio that night. I thought it would be safer than my place since someone has tried to kill me twice, including once there!”

“You stayed there with her permission?” said Harper impassively.

“She found out about it afterward.”

“So you broke in?”

Devine slammed his fist down on the table. “Are you really going down that road?”

“Breaking and entering is a crime, Devine,” Harper said calmly.

Devine struggled to get his temper under control, but the smug look on Harper’s face made it easier. And he’d been grilled by the best of Army CID agents.

“She approved of what I did after the fact, so I don’t see what the problem is. And I thought you were trying to nail me on stealing her rape kit?”

“Why does it have to be just one crime?”

“I’ve committed no crime.”

“Why did you want to look at that evidence file?”

“Because I think whoever killed Jenny also attacked Alex fifteen years ago. I already suggested that theory to you.”

“I don’t agree.”

“You don’t have to. But you didn’t have to drag me in here on some trumped-up charge.”

“The rape kit is missing.”

“Yeah, I know. It was missing when I opened the box. Mildred James knows that, too.”

“No, she looked at the box after you told her it was missing.”

“Why would I take it?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“Why did you look at the box ten years ago? You were the last one to sign it out before I came along.”

“I’m asking the questions here, not you!”

Now Harper was struggling to get his temper under control while Devine gazed at him placidly.

“Answer my question,” demanded Harper.

“I already did. I didn’t take it, so I can’t have a reason why I did. But I am puzzled.”

“About what?”

“Did you have doubts about the case? Did you wonder why it was never solved? Did you wonder why there was never a suspect to match the forensics to?”

“You’re not listening, Devine.”

“Did you take the rape kit?”

“No, I didn’t,” huffed Harper.

“Good, neither did I. I think we can call it a day.”

Harper pointed a finger at him. “You were the last person to access that box.”

“After you did, a long time ago. When you were still a sergeant.”

Harper shifted in his seat and shrugged. “Okay, you’re right. It was unsolved. I wanted to see if something clicked. It was part of my job.”

“Did anything click?”

“No.”

Something occurred to Devine. “Was the rape kit there when you accessed the box?”

Harper didn’t answer right away. “Y-yes.”

“Would you swear to that on the witness stand?” asked a clearly incredulous Devine.

“I’m not on a fucking witness stand,” roared Harper.

“You might be one day,” Devine shot back. “If you push this.”

Harper sat there for a few moments before ending the interview and turning off the recorder. “Get out of here.”

“You read me my rights. Am I being formally charged?”

“We didn’t process you yet, and you haven’t been officially booked or arraigned. But we can pick you up anytime. So much as a parking ticket.”

Devine rose. “I’m not the enemy here.”

“The enemy is who I say it is.”

Devine walked out. In the lobby he saw Mildred James. She looked up at him guiltily. In a low voice she said, “I am so sorry about all this.” Her gaze darted toward the hall where the interview room was. “I know you didn’t take that rape kit. The rear doors are alarmed. You would have had to pass me with it, and you didn’t. It’s not like you could have hidden the dang thing in your pants. I told the chief that.”

“I appreciate that. Well, at least I’m free to go, for now. Where is Sergeant Fuss?”

“She got called out on something.”

He nodded and glanced through the glass partition into Harper’s office. He eyed the line of photos on the wall of former police chiefs he had seen before. As he looked more closely, the picture of the man next to Harper seemed familiar for some reason.

He pointed at it. “Who’s that man? The one who was chief before Harper?”

James glanced at it. “Oh, that’s Benjamin Bing.”

Devine’s jaw dropped. “Bing like in Bing and Sons?”

“Yes, he was the third brother. The other two followed their father and uncle into the funeral business, but Ben became a police officer. Worked his way up to chief. A little too overbearing and full of himself for my tastes. He would grind you up if you made him look bad.”

“What happened to him?”

“He retired and moved to Florida to be with his brothers.”

“Where in Florida?”

“Naples. I saw a picture of the house once. Right on the beach. It was breathtaking.”

“Interesting. Is he still alive?”

“Probably. He’s still young, maybe a year or so older than me. Françoise or her brother might know for sure. Or the chief. He probably keeps in touch. They were tight.”

“Yeah, I bet,” said Devine, who now had a whole new angle to explore.