Distemper (5 page)

Bill shut him up with a look. “Meter maids don’t count.”

“Will you give him a break?” I said. “He just started. How many decent sources did any of us have when we first got here?
Don’t feel bad, Franklin. Right now I couldn’t even get the meter maids to talk to me.”

“You got that right,” Bill said.

“That bad?”

“Fact is, when the chief called to screw me over with the press conference, he specifically said to make sure you weren’t
there.”

“No way.”

“Yep.”

“So I take it you’re sending me?”

“Of course.”

“When again?”

“Tomorrow, eight A.M.”

“Wow, they’re really pissed. They know no
A.M.
reporter starts before ten. What a bunch of jerks.”

“So tomorrow, bright and early.”

“What about tonight?”

“What about it?”

“Are we really going to lie down and get screwed? Me, I like some romance first.”

“You got a better idea? I’m up shit’s creek here. My best reporter is drunk off his ass…”

“Thanks a
lot
.”

“… and my second-best reporter just did a Wicked Witch of the West down the side of a mountain. My cop reporter looks like
he’s dying for his mother’s tit. Who am I supposed to send? Lillian? The cops aren’t the goddamn ladies-garden-club bunch
they’ve got over at the
school board. We don’t exactly have a staff of thousands here, you know. Hey, I got it. Maybe I could get one of the sports
guys to go over, give me some play-by-play.”

“There’s a thought.”

“Go home, Alex. Go get some sleep and let me figure out how I’m going to explain to our esteemed publisher that the world’s
smallest TV station is going to scoop us on the biggest story of the year.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad. It could be worse. They could be scooping us when they catch the killer. Then we’d all be out
of a job.”

“Junior, make sure Alex gets home okay. And for Chrissake, shut my door.”

We went out by the back stairs, but when Franklin headed for his car I dragged him in the other direction.

“Where are we going? Alex, wait, will ya? Bill told me to get you home. You heard him.”

“Just follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Cop shop. You remember the way, right?”

It’s a five-minute walk from the paper to the police station, but in my condition it took ten. When we went through the front
door I had this wispy flashback of myself crawling in there two days ago, babbling and bleeding all over some cop’s shirtfront.
Lucky for my pride, there was a different guy at the front desk. When he saw me, he came around to the other side of the bulletproof
glass.

“Hey, Joey. Can you tell Chief Hill I’m here to see him?”

“He isn’t here.”

“Of course he’s here. You guys are working on the
biggest case since… since…”
Since last summer
, I thought, but there was no way I was going to say it. “Come on, I swear it’ll only take a minute. I don’t want to interview
him or anything. I just want to talk to him for a sec.” Even if the chief was pissed about me giving some facts to the paper,
I didn’t think he’d totally shut me down. Chief Wilfred Hill is pretty decent, for a guy who carries a gun to work. He was
downright fatherly to me when Adam died, and he didn’t have to be.

“Really, Alex, I swear he’s not here. It’s Monday. Rotary lunch day. You know.”

“Oh, jeeze, I forgot.”

“So he’s at the Holiday Inn. Be back after three.”

“Maybe you can bail me out. Word is you guys ID’ed the girl. Want to save my ass and give me a name?”

“There’s like about zero chance of that and you know it. Your ass is plenty pretty, but I don’t want mine in a sling either.”

“How’d you like to be officer of the month? Editorial page guy’s in my pocket.”

“I
am
officer of the month. And you are getting nowhere, so you might as well go home and put a new Band-Aid on that head of yours.
Nice bald spot you got there.”

“So I’m denied?”

“Big time.”

I was about to flee with my tail between my legs when I pulled another name out of the air. “How about that Detective Cody?
Is he here?”

He waited a beat, like he wasn’t going to tell me. Then he sighed. “Yeah, he’s here. Whatcha want him for? He’s not gonna
tell you jack.”

“Humor a poor bald girl.”

“He’s busy.”

“And he’s a detective, and he’s a suit, and you’d just
hate
to make his life harder.”

That got him. “Oh, all right. I’ll go ask if he’ll see you or if I should toss you out on your ear.”

“What’s the deal with him, anyway?”

“Hotshot from the Boston PD.”

“No way. What the hell’s he doing up here?”

“Only son. Transferred up to the woods to take care of his mom. She’s sick or something.”

“Decent of him.”

He leaned forward. If I’d wanted to, I could’ve grabbed his gun. “Also, I hear his wife gave him the heave-ho.”

“Ouch. So is he any good?”

“Bored off his ass until the dead girls. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he killed ‘em himself just to have something to
do.”

“You’re joking.”

“Whaddaya think? Course I’m joking. Oh, and get a load of this. He used to be a Navy SEAL.”

“Macho man. I thought they only had those in Steven Seagal movies.”

“Well, we got one. You want him or not?”

“You’re the answer to a maiden’s prayer.”

He disappeared into the office to call Cody. “Would the chief really…”

“Jesus, Junior, you scared me. I forgot you were there.”

“Sorry.”

“What’s the question?”

“The chief. Would he really take off in the middle of a
murder investigation to go to the Rotary lunch? Or was that guy lying?”

“Nope. First and third Monday of every month. Holy days of obligation. Rubber chicken, mushy peas, apple cobbler. Speeches
by men in shiny suits. It’s a Gabriel institution. Besides, what cop ever gave up a free meal?”

“Alex…”

“You gotta cover it sometime. It’s a gas. The cops really strap on the feedbag. They serve donuts as hors d’oeuvres, but there’s
never enough of them, so the cops and the firemen practically end up pistol-whipping each other. One time Mad and I…”

“Alex…”

“What?” He made frantic stabs in the air with a bitten fingernail. I turned around, and there was Detective Cody.

“You’ve got two minutes,” he said.

“Fine. Listen, I…”

“Not here. And just you. Your boyfriend can stay outside.” He did an about-face worthy of Parris Island (or wherever it is
you train a SEAL) and I followed him upstairs to his office. The cop sanctum sanctorum. The press is
never
allowed up here, or maybe they forgot to tell him. “Sit down.” I obeyed even faster than my dog. “You did the right thing
by coming here.”

“I did?”

“So go ahead.”

“Go ahead and what?”

“I assume you came here to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For disregarding our direct request that you not discuss this case with anyone.”

“Cops always say that sort of thing. Nobody ever follows it. If they did, we’d be printing nothing but horoscopes and Dear
Abby.”

“Miss Bernier, do you realize that by talking to the press, you disclosed information that might jeopardize our investigation?
That might damage a prosecution, if one ever materializes from this mess?”

“Oh, get
off
it. Don’t go yelling at me because you guys can’t do your jobs. Well, guess what? I was just doing mine. I’m a reporter,
Detective. That means I report. If I hadn’t been the lucky stiff to find the body, I would have tried to track down whoever
did find it, and get her to spill her guts. If she was like ninety percent of the human race, she would have spilled them.
And I would have printed it. It happens all the time. What’s the big deal?”

He looked like he wanted to throttle me, but it wasn’t as threatening as you might think. Actually, with all that red hair,
he looked like a very angry version of Opie from the
Andy Griffith Show
. “There is no excuse for the way you behaved. I stood in your hospital room and asked for your word that you wouldn’t divulge
any of the details of the case, and then you went ahead and did it anyway. Where I come from, they call that dishonor.”

“Spare me the
Officer and a Gentleman
act, would you? When you talked to me, I was still all woozy. Besides, what did I say that pissed you off so much, really?
All I told my editor was that it was just the same as the first girl, the clothes and the marks and the position and all.
That’s it. Big deal.”

“Two young women are dead. I’d think that would bother you more than it obviously does.”

“It does bother me. Of course it bothers me. If you want to know the truth, it scares the shit out of me, and all my friends,
and my housemates too. And don’t even
ask
about my mother.”

“Listen, I have a hell of a lot of work and not a lot of time to do it in. If you didn’t come here to apologize for making
my life harder, then what is it you want?”

“I want to know who the dead girls were.”

“So do we.”

“I heard you already know. I also heard you’re holding the names until tomorrow morning to screw us over.”

“In that case, what makes you think I’d tell you now?”

“The chief’s in a snit over me, and you know it. He’s pissed and he’s playing games. But I don’t think you’re the kind of
guy who likes to play games.” Actually, I had no idea what kind of guy he was. But it sounded good, so I kept going. “You
know there’s a whole lot of people out there waiting to find out who those girls were. Why should they have to wait almost
a whole other day wondering if it’s someone they know, someone they care about, just because I can’t keep my big mouth shut?”

“Do you honestly care that much about the TV station getting the story first?”

“Goodness, how did you hear about that? I didn’t mention it.”

“Okay, the chief wants to teach you a lesson. You didn’t answer me. Does it really get under your skin to come in second?”

“Principle of the thing. The information’s available now. It should be out there.”

“I’m surprised you’re not trying to lift it off my desk. Can’t all you vultures read upside down?”

“Yep. But I knew you’d never be that sloppy, so why embarrass myself? Listen, I can promise you this much. The next time this
reporter finds a dead body, she’ll keep her mouth shut.”

“Comforting.”

“So how about it? Will you give me the names or what?”

“Name. We’re only releasing one.”

“But you have both of them? Then why are you only releasing one? Next of kin?”

“Can’t find any. But we have to try.”

“Are you going to give me a name or do I have to see it on the evening news?”

“You talk faster than a used-car salesman.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“You’re a very persuasive young lady.”

“Young my ass. You’re, what, thirty-five?”

“I’m thirty-two.” He stared at me for a minute. “For the record, I thought the chief should have released the name yesterday.
So I’m not just giving in to your charms.”

“What a surprise.”

“The girl’s name is…”

“Wait. Hold on. Are you going to get in trouble for this?” To this day, I have no idea why I said that. It was not what you’d
call in character for me to care if a source got in trouble for opening his mouth.

“Nice of you to worry. And no. The chief is the chief, but he’s still spent his entire life up here. He hasn’t had a whole
lot of experience with homicides, beyond your average drunken brawl. He had the good sense to hand the
investigation over to me, at least unofficially. And
that
is off the record.”

“So what’s her name?” I said, finally pulling out my notebook. “And are we talking about the first girl, or the second one?”

“The second. The girl you found is named Patricia Marx. That’s M-A-R-X. She’s from Syracuse. Age twenty-two. She worked at
the Gap in the big mall up there.”

“The Carousel. I know it well.”

“She shared an apartment with another girl from the store. Her roommate wasn’t worried when she didn’t come home last Sunday
night, since she’d stay at her boyfriend’s house a few nights a week. Monday was her day off, but when she didn’t show up
for work on Tuesday her roommate called the Syracuse PD. Said the girl had never even been late for work without calling.
We talked to the boyfriend. He never saw her on Sunday.”

“He’s not a suspect?”

“We’re not ruling anyone out.”

“Off the record?”

“Off the record, if he did it, I’m joining the Mounties.”

“Any viable suspects?”

“That’s all you’re getting.”

“Cause of death?”

“Strangulation.”

“With?”

“Unknown. And I have to get back to work.”

“Come on, can’t you tell me anything else about Patricia Marx? I’m going to track her down eventually, but it’ll probably
take me all night. Give me a break. My wrist hurts. So do my ribs. I’m all taped up and everything.”
I pulled up my shirt just enough to show him my side. “Can’t you at least tell me where she grew up? Or do I have to call
every high school west of Albany?”

“Montour Falls. Now get the hell out of my office.”

“Wait. There’s something else I need to ask you about.”

“I told you we’re done here.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for my roommate. I know this is going to sound crazy. But when the
Monitor
published that drawing of the first victim, she got all freaked out because she thought it looked like her. And then when
I found the second body… Well, it looked even
more
like her. I told her it didn’t, because I didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was, but it probably wasn’t
the right thing to do. What if she’s in danger? Do you think she could be?”

He stood up and started pacing, which wasn’t easy in an eight-by-eight cubicle. He looked like an Irish setter cooped up at
the SPCA. “Okay, Alex. This is off the record. Way off. What do you call it? ‘Deep background’?”