Lucy decided that she didn’t care how smart Josh Stein was, or his case clearance rate, she did not like a man who whistled while investigating murder.
They walked toward Crowley’s office in the Rayburn building. “Josh,” Noah said, “I let you lead with the lobbyist, let me take the lead with Crowley.”
“I’m on a roll, Armstrong. Think I can’t handle a homicide investigation?”
“I think you’d be great, but you’ve been an agent how long? Fifteen years? How many homicides?”
Stein didn’t say anything.
“If you have a question, jump in, but if you don’t mind…” he let his comment hang.
Stein jerked his thumb toward Lucy. “Why’s she here again?”
“Slater wanted a forensic analyst.”
“Is she going to be asking questions? Slater told you we are under the gun. Every step watched by everyone, including press.”
“I understand exactly what we face.”
“Noah,” she began.
He shot her a look that told her to remain quiet. She was going to suggest she wait outside, knowing that Stein didn’t want her involved, and not wanting her presence to jeopardize the case—even though she didn’t know how that would happen.
She wished Noah had given her a better understanding of their role working with the White Collar division, as well as how he intended to question Congressman Crowley. She disliked the power plays between the two divisions, with the uncertainty of who was really in charge. And she didn’t like this side of Noah.
Lucy followed Noah and Stein through security, then upstairs where they were ushered immediately into Congressman Crowley’s private office.
Crowley had been in Congress for more than twenty-two years, withstanding several partisan shifts of power. His office was decorated with furniture that was a little too big for the space, including a tall glass cabinet packed with awards and trinkets. His desk was cluttered with three pen sets, paperweights, and a variety of odd items, many with gold plates identifying a place or event. Most of the photographs had Crowley in golf gear with people more famous than he.
Noah introduced the three of them.
Crowley said, “I spoke with your superior earlier today.”
“We have some follow-up questions. I’m sure you understand.”
“Why isn’t Agent Slater handling this? He told me he was in charge.” Crowley’s tone was offensive, but his posture was defensive—his body was turned a few degrees away from them, his hands bounced a pen off the desk blotter, his eyes went from agent to agent, then glanced at the door.
He was nervous.
“He’s the Supervisory Special Agent for the Violent Crimes and Major Offenders squad,” Stein said. “I’m his counterpart, the SSA for White Collar Crime and Political Corruption.”
Crowley’s face reddened. He dropped the pen. “I will answer questions about my relationship with Wendy, but you’re stretching to imply there was anything but a consenting adult relationship.”
“Your relationship with Ms. James is public record at this point,” Stein said. “We need to determine if there was anything inappropriate or illegal. It’s odd that she ends up dead three days before her scheduled meeting with the U.S. Attorney. What information might she have been wanting to share?”
So much for letting Noah take the lead, Lucy thought. She wanted to pull Stein aside and explain to him that anyone with basic understanding of psychology could see that Crowley considered himself a leader and wouldn’t be a pushover, just on the basis of what his office showed. His overabundance of awards and pictures was “name-dropping.” The best way to get him to cooperate would be to stroke his ego and let him think he was the one solving the case, all the while answering their very specific questions. Going on the attack right out of the gate was a big mistake.
Crowley leaned forward, both hands palm down on his desk. “I will tell you exactly what I told Agent Slater, since it’s obvious that your office doesn’t share information. I was in a committee meeting yesterday morning. The last time I saw Wendy was a week after the newspaper reported our affair. She called and wanted to meet at her apartment. I agreed to meet in public, at Dupont Circle. I brought my chief of staff with me, so no one could take pictures and accuse me of continuing the affair. We talked about nothing important because she was mad I brought Denise. We haven’t spoken since.”
He looked from Stein to Noah, then said, “I’m upset that she was killed, but her murder has nothing to do with me.”
“Sir,” Noah said, trying to settle him down, “we are simply trying to put together Ms. James’s movements over the last few days. If she ever indicated that someone was following her, maybe an ex-boyfriend she told you about, or—”
“If you have any specific questions, I will answer them through my lawyer.”
Stein said, “You understand that your refusal to cooperate makes you suspect.”
“You can leave now.”
They stood up and started toward the door. Lucy caught Noah’s eye. “Apartment?” she mouthed. He either ignored her or didn’t understand.
She turned around and faced Crowley. “Sir,” she said in her most diplomatic voice, “did you usually meet with Ms. James at her apartment?”
“My attorney,” he repeated without looking at her. He pretended to read a document on his desk, but his hands were shaking and he had to put the paper down. For a split second, she thought he was scared. Not that he might get caught at something, but maybe … was he scared someone was after him?
“Please, this is important. You must have cared about Wendy at one point.”
He looked at her, sorrow crossing his face for a split second, before his arrogance buried it. She implored him with her eyes, even though how he had handled the affair made her want to slap him.
“I truly did. We usually met at her apartment on Park Way.”
“Which apartment number?” she pretended to forget and flipped through blank pages in a notebook.
“Seven-ten. How does that help?” he asked, curious.
“Just fact-gathering, sir. Thank you.”
As soon as they were in the hall, Stein turned to Lucy and said, “What the hell were you doing? He cried uncle and you bat your eyes at him?”
“I did not,” she defended. “I needed to know where they met for sex. It was obvious to me it wasn’t in the apartment we walked this morning—and apartment seven-ten is not hers. It’s not even on the same floor.”
“Like you can tell after ten minutes in her apartment whether she brought men there? Why does it matter where they screwed?” Stein was livid. “I had Crowley panicked and asking for his lawyer, and you act like the good cop? You don’t even have a badge!”
Noah said, “Let’s take this outside.”
“I had this under control. If this case is blown, it’s on
you,
Armstrong. You brought Nancy Drew into this investigation.”
They stepped into the elevator. Noah gave a staff member a look that had the young man waiting for the next ride.
When the door closed, Noah said, “You pushed him too hard, too fast.”
“That’s how you have to deal with these people. They’re all guilty of something.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I’ve worked in political corruption for more than a decade, and I don’t care who it is, they’re all corruptible. Some easier than others.”
“But he’s not under investigation for political corruption, Josh! He’s a person of interest in a
homicide
. Once I clear him, you can do whatever you want, but for now, we focus on the murder of Wendy James.”
“And if they’re connected?”
“When we solve the murder, we’ll know.”
The elevator opened. Lucy followed behind the two men. Stein was on his phone and walked ahead. Noah still looked irritated.
“Noah,” Lucy said cautiously. “We need to check out apartment seven-ten. Remember how I said it didn’t look like she lived there? Maybe she doesn’t, not full-time.”
“You should have talked to me before questioning Crowley.”
“I tried—”
“We could get the information in other ways. It was already a tense situation.”
“That wasn’t my fault.” Why was Noah angry with her? She hadn’t gone into Crowley’s office on a rant. “Crowley is a classic power narcissist. He responds negatively to attacks, he needs to be praised and made to feel important, then you can get him to talk about anything.”
She hadn’t realized Stein overheard her comment. He snapped his phone off and said, “I understand politicians better than you, Kincaid. I’m not going to coddle them when I know in my gut they’re crooked, and I’m not going to play pop psychology games.”
Noah said, “Josh, I understand where you’re coming from, but right now you’re fishing on influence peddling. You have no evidence. On the other hand, we have a dead body and interviewing Crowley is part of the process. I need his statement.”
Stein shook his head. “I get it, Armstrong, but I stand by my approach. Now we wait and watch. He’ll do something to tip his hand, I guarantee it. And then maybe we’ll both get what we want—I’ll nail him for corruption, you get him for murder.”
“If he’s guilty,” Lucy said. She wanted to say,
he’s not guilty,
but didn’t want another argument, with Stein or Noah.
“He’s guilty of something.” Stein glanced at his watch. “Can you get a taxi back to your car? I have to get back to headquarters.” He left without waiting for an answer.
Lucy followed Noah, who was walking quickly and ignoring her. “Noah, wait,” she finally said. The heat made her hot and irritable.
He stopped under a tree near the sidewalk. “I know what you’re going to say. Josh Stein is an asshole. He’s impulsive and arrogant. But he’s also my superior, and yours.” He added under his breath, “It’s my fault.” He started walking again, but Lucy stopped him.
“Noah, what did I do?” Her heart was racing and she began to panic that she’d overstepped. “I’m sorry I said anything to the congressman, but I was only thinking about what we’d been talking about earlier, that maybe Wendy James has another place. And we confirmed it!”
“I planned on coming back to talk to Crowley without Stein.”
“I didn’t know.” She felt foolish, but wished Noah had given her a clue to his plans.
“I’ve given you a lot of slack these last two months, but that can’t continue. This case is far too complicated and high-profile.”
“I haven’t jeopardized anything, have I?” She couldn’t imagine what she’d said or done that would put a conviction at risk.
“Not yet.” Noah flagged down a taxi and opened the door for Lucy.
She slid into the cab.
Not yet.
Which meant he expected her to screw up.
* * *
It was after six by the time Noah and Lucy arrived back at Wendy James’s apartment. Noah was on the phone the entire drive, talking to an analyst about property records. Apartment 710 was owned by the corporation that managed the condo and two floors down from Wendy’s official residence, 910.
The manager let them in. “I don’t think Wendy ever used this place,” Betty Dare said. “It’s leased for short-term stays—less than a month.”
“Do you have the printout of who’s leased it in the past year?” Noah asked.
She handed him a folder.
Noah glanced through it. “These are businesses.”
“Yes—they will lease the place for staff who are coming into the city to testify, sometimes staying a week, sometimes longer.”
Lucy held her hand out. “I can go through them tonight.”
Noah didn’t give her the file. “We have a well-staffed office, Lucy. You don’t have to volunteer for everything.”
Ms. Dare hesitated, then handed Noah the key. “If you can lock up and return the key on your way out?”
“Of course.”
After the manager left, Lucy looked around.
The place was lavishly decorated with expensive, durable furniture befitting a high-end lease. Leather couch, plush carpet, granite in the kitchen, and a fifty-inch television on the wall. A plethora of plants made the place appear homey, but upon closer inspection, Lucy realized they were silk. The refrigerator had two unopened bottles of white wine and long-shelf-life barrel cheese. The kitchen cabinets included unopened packages of crackers and a wide array of alcohol. There were plates, glasses, utensils, all clean.
“Looks standard,” Noah said.
“With food and drink?”
“For executives who come in after hours—hotels do it.”
“Something seems—off.”
“Maybe Wendy didn’t want to bring Crowley into her apartment. Nosy neighbor, maybe she had a boyfriend.” Noah added, “We got nothing from the neighbors earlier, but we should follow up now that it’s after six.”
Lucy was only half-listening to Noah. She stared at a discolored strip of molding along the ceiling. There was a dark mark near the edge that caught her attention.
She pulled over a chair from the dining area and put it against the wall. As soon as she got closer to the molding, she saw that it was loose. The smudge appeared to be grease. She wiggled the piece and realized it was on a hinge.
“What are you doing?” Noah asked.
“There’s a hidey-hole here.”
“Hidey-hole?” Noah sounded amused.
Lucy pushed up and the little door snapped off. “Sorry,” she said.
“Lucy, I’ll bring a team in—”
“It’s wires. Lots of them. The space is only four inches wide. A building like this would have a separate room for its wiring.” Lucy handed Noah the broken door. “This molding is different than the rest. It’s PVC, not wood.”
She stepped off the chair and led the way into the bedroom. She saw the same slightly off-color strip of molding.
Her instincts buzzed that she’d discovered something important. “Look—same thing here.”
“Let me do it this time,” Noah said. He brought over a chair and used it as a step stool to stand on the dresser. “There’s definitely a door here.” He tapped in several locations and suddenly a door sprang up. “And I didn’t break it,” he said, grinning.
He shined a flashlight into the hole. “Empty. But something was definitely here. There’re outlets.”
“Outlets
inside
the wall?”
“What’s on the backside of this wall?”
Lucy walked around and opened the door. “A linen closet. There are sheets, towels, toiletries.”