“I’m sorry, my dog doesn’t like cats. I can call some of the other residents, but most of the people who live here work during the day. A third of our apartments are only used on a part-time basis.”
“This is a condominium, correct?”
“About half the units are owned. The company who manages the building doesn’t allow sublets or rentals, except through the company.”
“Ms. James was an owner?”
Ms. Dare nodded and gestured to the file in Lucy’s hands. “She bought the unit two years ago. No complaints.”
“Did you know her well?”
“She said hello, but I didn’t see much of her. I don’t see most of the residents unless there is a problem.”
“And Ms. James didn’t have any problems?”
“No, none.”
“This is a secure building, correct?”
“Fairly. We have cameras in the lobby, each entrance, and the parking garage. The lobby doors are locked from nine
P.M.
until five
A.M.
Each resident has a card key to enter after hours, as well as the parking garage all day.”
“Did you include a printout for Ms. James’s card?”
“No, I didn’t think—it’ll just take a minute.”
Lucy waited and five minutes later, Ms. Dare handed her a report. It was surprisingly thick. She flipped through it. Wendy didn’t arrive home most nights until after two in the morning. There was no tracking of when she left the parking garage, only when she returned.
“Thank you.”
“Let me know if I can do anything else. I know what the media is saying about her, poor girl. But what I knew of her, she was polite, quiet, and sweet. She baked me cookies last Christmas. Very kind. Not many young people do things like that anymore, you know.”
Lucy went back upstairs. She stepped into the condo, but was immediately escorted out by Noah. “Good news and bad news,” he said. “I’m running the case, but in the shadows. Stein’s the lead on paper and I report to both him and Slater. But it’s all on us. He’s not going to get in the way, except he’s coming with us to interview the victim’s employer and colleagues.”
“How’d you do it?”
Noah reached into his pocket and handed her back her cell phone. He winked, his eyes showing a rare sparkle. “Your pictures came in very handy.” Then he returned to his usual seriousness. “Watch your step around him. He can be a jerk, but when it comes to white-collar crimes, he’s one of the best. He has the same kind of instincts that you do, just in a different area.”
“I understand.” She handed him the files from the manager. “I couldn’t find a place for the cat.”
“It seemed to like you. Why don’t you take it home?”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
She had never thought about having a pet, she was too busy.
“I guess I could—temporarily.”
“We’ll come back for it after interviewing her employer.”
A cat. She’d have to give her brother and sister-in-law, whom she lived with, a heads-up. Or maybe it would be better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
CHAPTER SIX
Josh Stein insisted on driving to Devon Sullivan & Associates, the lobbying company where Wendy James worked as a secretary. He wanted to exchange information about the case, but he did most of the talking. In between his off-color jokes about loose women and politics and his valuable information and insight about Wendy James’s initial interview after the scandal broke, Lucy didn’t know if she wanted to kill him or praise him.
Noah was right. Stein was very smart—and very much a jerk.
“I would have cut her loose then,” Stein was saying, “because it seemed to be exactly what it was on the surface. A hot young chick sleeping with power. She was in no position to influence legislation, she’s a fucking
secretary,
doesn’t even have to register. But it came back to her knowledge of a particular bill Crowley killed in committee.”
“You’ve lost me,” Noah said.
“She went into the interview all charming, tits perky, eyelashes fluttering, but she was no bimbo. Too smart. We were just chatting, I made a comment about one of her company’s clients, an upstart company, and she immediately corrected me. The client was no longer with DSA, and the product they made wasn’t a computer chip, but a specialized lens for space telescopes.”
“Why’s that important?”
“It was
obscure.
Some things she may know, but in that detail? Considering her employer told me she was essentially the receptionist? So I asked some other questions, confirmed that she was sharp. So I’m thinking, maybe it wasn’t so much influence peddling on Crowley’s part, but maybe this girl had some other boyfriends on the side. Maybe she gathers up information like we gather up evidence, sees what fits and what doesn’t. Campaign secrets and whatnot.”
“Is that a crime?” Lucy asked.
“Maybe, maybe not. Depending on what she does with the information. If there’s money involved. If there’s national security at risk. So I asked some things I knew weren’t true, and one thing I knew
was
true—that she’d been involved with Congressman Randy Bristow at one point.
That
tidbit came from a contact of mine in the White House, who had seen the two up close and personal after a fundraiser. I asked her about a bunch of guys I doubted she’d screwed, then Bristow, and she denied it. No reason to, really—Bristow isn’t married, he can screw anyone he wants. But she cut me off, asked why I needed to know about her past sex life, she wasn’t on trial, yada yada.”
“You were fishing,” Lucy said.
“I’m damn good fisherman, sweetheart,” he said, grinning at her in the rearview mirror.
Noah jumped in. “And then you brought in the U.S. Attorney.”
“Information is power in this town, and that pretty little girl had access to a lot of information.”
“There was nothing on her computer,” Noah said.
“But you didn’t find her phone, did you? And she could have a laptop somewhere, or save everything to a disk. Maybe she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Maybe she was. Now she’s dead.”
Noah glanced over his shoulder as if warning Lucy to keep her mouth shut.
“Turning up dead right before a meet with the U.S. Attorney’s office?” Stein continued. “That tells me she knew
something.
Maybe she wasn’t the bad girl in this picture, but knew who was being naughty.”
Lucy’s irritation faded when the manner of death clicked into place. “The killer made her death
look
like attempted rape. Pulled down her shorts, but no penetration and no bruising on the inside of her thighs.”
Stein paled. “Well, I, uh, will leave those details to you.”
“Hear me out,” she continued. Stein pulled into a red zone near an office building only blocks from the Capitol complex. “Her death was odd, don’t you think, Noah? Strangled from
behind.
Little or no sexual gratification. And Josh said she lied about something she didn’t have to, and was scheduled to talk to the U.S. Attorney. Why was she killed
now
and not three weeks ago when the scandal first broke?”
“The theory makes sense,” Noah said, “but doesn’t it seem unwise on the killer’s part to kill her when she was an interested party in an ongoing investigation?”
“Not if the information she would have shared was criminally damaging,” Stein said.
Lucy couldn’t believe she and the bombastic agent were in agreement. “Desperate measures,” she said. “If he felt there was no other way to silence her. Maybe she couldn’t be bought off.”
“Speaking of buying her off,” Stein said, “I have my team going through her finances. That condo cost her far more than she’d make on a secretary’s salary. Might be she comes from a wealthy family, or maybe she just has a
lot
of men keeping her in style.” He laughed.
The two minutes Lucy had respected Josh Stein ended.
The three of them walked through the glass doors of a renovated corner office building. Part of the structure was reinforced marble—very likely the original structure—and part was completely new, made to blend in with the old. The result was surprisingly attractive.
Stein showed his badge to the guard and they were sent to the penthouse suite of offices where Devon Sullivan & Associates resided.
In the elevator, Stein said, “DSA is a medium-sized lobbying firm representing local governments, small unions, and private businesses, primarily in the tech industry. Their second-largest client in terms of dollars spent is a city in California—which happens to be in Alan Crowley’s district. See why the affair may not be so simple after all? Definitely an affair to remember.” He laughed at his own joke. Neither Lucy nor Noah joined in, but Stein didn’t notice.
Devon Sullivan greeted them when they stepped out of the elevator. She was attractive in both manner and dress. Mid-fifties, tastefully dyed dark blond hair, and hazel eyes behind purple Donna Spade glasses. Her red-rimmed eyes suggested she’d already heard about Wendy James’s murder.
“It’s so awful. Please, come to my office.”
She led them across the lobby, through glass double doors, and past her secretary. “Jeanie, please hold all calls for now.” She closed the door behind them.
Devon Sullivan’s office was as large as Wendy’s living room and just as contemporary, with a wide expanse of windows and lots of sparkling glass. The view looked down on one of the large roundabouts, and if Lucy stood just right, she could see half of the Capitol. One wall was a bookcase with numerous political biographies and larger legal tomes. A few pictures decorated the shelves, mostly of Devon Sullivan golfing or with clients, and one of her at a shooting range, framed with a small engraving, “Virginia State Trooper Widows & Orphans Charity Shoot-Out, 2008.”
Ms. Sullivan motioned for them to sit, and she took a position in front of her desk, not behind it. Lucy glanced at the desk, which was devoid of all papers except for closed file folders. A picture of two young boys sat in the corner. Children or grandchildren, Lucy couldn’t tell.
“I’m still trying to understand what happened. The press, as you know, never gets things completely right. But Wendy
was
murdered?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Stein said. “I appreciate you making the time for us.” His tone was reserved and respectful, opposite of his earlier demeanor.
“Anything you need.”
“When news of the affair between Ms. James and Congressman Crowley first broke, I spoke to your office manager about her employment. He indicated that she’d worked here as a secretary for about two years.”
“Correct.”
“Were you concerned when she didn’t come in for work yesterday morning?”
Ms. Sullivan blinked rapidly, her eyes brimming with tears. “I fired Wendy last week.”
The information surprised all of them, but Josh Stein most of all. “When?” he asked brusquely.
“Tuesday morning. I would have fired her on Monday, but she called in sick. I think she knew. I didn’t have a choice—I don’t think she did anything wrong, but her judgment was flawed. My business is built solely on my reputation. Her situation had gotten out of control, and I had concerned clients. I gave her a very nice severance package, and a letter of recommendation.”
“What exactly did she do for you?”
“Mostly answered phones, greeted clients, made copies, and assisted with events. Wendy was very good at it.”
“Why did you feel the need to fire her?”
“Reputation,” she repeated.
“Did you know she was having an affair with Alan Crowley?”
“No. I would have told her to knock it off or leave. My staff knows how important image is in this business, when lobbying already has as bad a reputation as used-car salesmen and politicians. Truly, a few bad apples and we’re all condemned.”
“Could she have accessed sensitive information that she may have leveraged with Congressman Crowley or others?”
“Others?”
“We’re keeping a broad mind.”
“I suppose she could have accessed any of the files here, but most of our records are public, as required by law.”
“Did you, or anyone on your staff, ask Wendy James to unduly influence Alan Crowley or any other sitting member of the House of Representatives?”
Ms. Sullivan was taken aback by the question, and Lucy was surprised as well. Stein slipped it in smoothly, in the same tone and manner as his initial softball questions.
“Absolutely not,” she said firmly.
“Would you mind if I spoke to your staff?”
She hesitated, the first sign that she was nervous about something. It could be natural, stemming from the tragic situation, or it could be more calculating. Lucy wasn’t certain.
“Of course you may, but if it’s about my clients, I need to be present.”
“Just about Wendy, who she dated, if anyone knew about the affair.”
Devon Sullivan didn’t relax. “I suppose. When?”
“Now would be perfect,” Stein said.
“I’ll make the conference room available.” She left the office, closing the door behind her.
Stein grinned and said in a low voice, “I’m going to give Ms. Sullivan a rectal exam.”
“Excuse me?” Lucy said.
“You think a lobbyist like her didn’t know her secretary was doing the horizontal bop with a player like Crowley? Hell no.”
“Murder is a long way from political corruption,” Noah said.
Stein shrugged. “Maybe. Probably no connection. But you shouldn’t be surprised how fast people tell the truth when they think they’re facing more serious charges. Anything going on in this company, I’ll find it.” He glanced at his watch. “We still have time to catch Crowley at his office. Damn, I love my job.”
Lucy barely refrained from grimacing. Stein was too giddy about his work; she wondered if he cared anything about the victim—or if winning was the only thing that mattered.
* * *
They could easily have walked from DSA to the Capitol, but Stein insisted on driving even though it was close to five in the afternoon and the roads were crowded. It took him fifteen minutes to find a parking place—a white-zone reserved for Capitol Police.
He slid his official federal business placard on the dash and got out of the car, whistling.