The Canton Connection (9 page)

Jake stood at his office window as a gray Jeep pulled off the street and circled the building to the parking lot. He turned to Bob. “She’s right on time.”

Was Stacy going to finger Wu as the murderer? Maybe he should have asked more probing or relevant questions during his first interrogation, but he had had no reason to doubt her. Now her description of the suspect didn’t fit the facts. For example, she had called him “tall,” and failed to mention his Asian features.

“This will be interesting,” Bob said.

Jake needed Bob there to verify Stacy’s selection of a mug shot. A grand jury would not accept only one observer at a line-up. Jake had the paperwork ready for Bob to sign once Stacy made the identification they were sure she would.

She arrived wearing a white business suit with wide shoulders, a sky blue blouse and a nice necklace and bracelet.

He shook her hand. This time, her hands were warm and she gave a friendly smile.

“Sorry to hold up traffic on the A root server,” he said.

“Things can wait. I keep a scheduled maintenance routine, and this is down time.”

“Interesting.”

Jake turned to introduce his boss. Bob was impassive and reserved, all business.

Before laying out the photographs, Jake needed to explain the procedure.

“We called you in this afternoon to see if you can assist us in identifying the assailant you saw during the murder last Friday. I’d like you to carefully review ten photos of possible suspects and tell me if you see the person who you saw committing the crime. Are you prepared for this?”

She pulled her
frizzy blonde hair behind her ears and took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Jake shuffled the ten photos and laid them on the edge of his desk.

She didn’t look at the entire group at once. She took her time and reviewed from left to right.

Simon Wu was number seven.

She looked at each photo carefully. She paused to pick up the fourth and studied it closely.

This worried Jake. It was a randomly selected photograph from the general public. Maybe she hadn’t gotten a good enough look at the assailant to recognize him.

Then she set number four back in its place and continued her systematic review. She passed smoothly over faces five and six and stopped at number seven.

Would she finger Simon Wu?

She stared at Wu’s photo for a long time. She looked at it almost critically, then passed on to the next one.

That momentary hesitation said a lot. But Jake was trained not to react, and
watched her continue.

When she finished reviewing the ten photographs, she leaned back in her chair and looked at Jake evenly.

“He’s not here,” she said.

“What?”

“I don’t see the suspect in any of these photos. I would recognize him, but he isn’t here.”

“You’re sure?”

She looked completely poised and unflappable.

What was the next step? A lie detector?

Jake glanced at Bob, who shrugged and put a hand on the doorknob, ready to leave.

Jake turned to Stacy. “Thank you for coming in. We may have to call you again.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll find your man.”

He wanted to tell her she was lying, but knew he shouldn’t.

“Before you leave, will you please review the photos one more time?” he asked.

She blinked, but complied.

Once again, she worked her way from left to right. This time she didn’t pause to study number four. She glided smoothly over each picture, her large blue eyes lingering on each man’s face long enough to do it justice.

She passed more quickly over Simon Wu.

She finished and looked up at Jake with a troubled expression. “You know,” she said at last, “this isn’t easy for me. The more I look at these pictures, the more I relive that awful moment. It was so cruel, and the man was so helpless.”

She sat limp in her chair. It seemed that she had ample emotional reason to want to find the culprit. Maybe he shouldn’t question her truthfulness.

He cleared his throat to bring her back from that vivid memory. “What if it turns out that one of these men did, in fact, commit the crime?”

“I wouldn’t be able to confirm it in a court of law,” she said. “I didn’t see any of these people attack him. I can tell you that for a fact.”

It occurred to Jake that she might be extra careful not to accuse someone if there was a shadow of a doubt.

“Remember,” he said, “this isn’t a court of law. This is a preliminary investigation. If you were only partially sure, say fifty percent, would you choose one of these pictures?”

He hoped she would turn to Wu’s photo, but Bob interrupted the process. “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to stop at this point.”

Jake could kick himself. He had overstepped the bounds and was clearly leading the witness.

His face burning, Jake gathered up the photos and turned them upside down on the table.

Stacy didn’t seem ready to leave. “You want to solve this crime, don’t you?”

He nodded, but was unwilling to express his disappointment. It might have been his first big break in the case, and it produced nothing.

“Listen,” she said, her voice soft, her eyes on the stack of photos. “How about we go out for a quiet dinner and talk this over under less stressful conditions?”

“Sure,” Bob said.

Jake looked up.

Stacy wasn’t talking to Bob.

“I mean you, Jake,” she said.

Jake gave Bob an apologetic smile. His boss gave a disappointed twist of the lips and slipped out of the room.

That left Jake staring at the woman who he believed held the key to his investigation. Maybe the mug shots and office setting had put too much pressure on her. Maybe some subtle details might emerge over dinner.

She stared at him boldly and steadily. Her offer had been serious.

“You sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind?” he asked.

She gave him a quizzical look that made him instantly regret his implication that one, she was even considering this a date, and two, even capable of cheating on a boyfriend.

“That,” he said, “came out kind of wrong.”

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked.

“I…I.” He didn’t want to tell her how he had spied on her. At least he hadn’t read her Facebook posts. “Just a guess,” he said, neatly avoiding an outright lie.

Of course she might be lying, too.

This was one crazy way to continue.

“You look too pretty and successful not to have a boyfriend,” he said.

That was not a lie.

She smiled. “Come on.” She tossed her head toward the office door and stood up to leave. “I’ll drive.”

“Now wait a second,” he said. “I’m the one who drives around here.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll meet you at the Outback in fifteen minutes. Beat the rush.”

“Sure. That works.”

With that, she flashed a broad smile.

He let her out of the office, and Maria escorted her to the door.

Jake plopped down in his seat and turned to his desk phone. He needed to compare notes with Bob.

“She didn’t bite,” Jake said over the line.

Bob, who had been excluded from knowing who the real suspect was, merely grunted. “I saw her pick up the fourth picture.”

“That wasn’t it,” Jake said.

“She took her time, but I didn’t see any flicker of recognition. She certainly didn’t point one out.”

“Didn’t you see her pause at picture number seven?”

“That was it?”

“That was Simon Wu.”

Bob grunted a negative. “I didn’t see anything unusual.”

That was strange. She had paused to study, even appraise, the p
hoto.

“Well, I’ve got dinner with her tonight,” Jake said.

“I know,” Bob said sourly.

“So I’ll catch you later.”

“Keep focused on the case,” Bob said. “And keep your professional distance.”

That would be hard, but Jake would try.

Driving toward Outback Steakhouse, Jake thought over his conversation with his boss.

Bob had said he didn’t see Stacy hesitate when she saw Simon Wu’s photo, but Jake was sure she had. If she didn’t finger Wu in the line-up, would she do so in private?

If not, the next step was tricky. It involved interrogating Simon Wu. But how did one interrogate a colleague? Jake could either go to the Inspector General and convince him he had a case, or he could do it on his own. Neither option was optimal.

Maybe he could bring up Simon Wu’s name at dinner and ask if she knew him.

He pulled off Arlington Boulevard into the Outback parking lot. As it was before six, there were plenty of spaces. He pulled in beside Stacy’s Jeep. It was empty.

He could already smell the flame-grilled steaks, and his stomach growled as he approached the restaurant.

Why was he eating out with someone other than Amber?

Amber didn’t have a proprietary claim on him, but he made a mental note not to bring Stacy to his apartment.

Inside the restaurant, he adjusted to the darkness and searched for Stacy in her white suit.

She had already secured a booth and waved her menu at him.

“I’ve got the Bloomin’ Onion on its way,” she told him.

“Perfect. I could eat a horse.”

“Yuck.”

He perused the menu, and a pert young waitress came up and introduced herself.

“Any horse flesh here?” Jake asked.

“I’m afraid not,” she said.

“Romanian mule?”

The waitress shook her head, and Stacy watched the exchange with a mixture of humor and incredulity.

“Have you ordered?” Jake asked her.

“I’ll take a ribeye,” she said. “Rare.”

“Me, too,” Jake said, and handed back the menu.

“That was an interesting exchange,” Stacy said once the waitress left. Her eyes lingered on him, trying to read him.

He attempted a disarming smile. “I’m not normally like that. Just trying to impress the ladies.”

“I don’t think it worked.”

He snapped his fingers. “Worth a try.”

He focused on his objective that evening. He had questioned Stacy formally at their first interview, and he had been hamstrung by the rules of conducting a line-up that afternoon. He was hoping that the restaurant’s more congenial environment might allow her to open up about the case.

“Now,” he said. “Tell me about Stacy Stefansson.”

“I wanted to hear about Special Agent Jake Maguire.”

“Hmm.” He was there to learn about her, not the reverse. “How about we try this. I say something about myself, and you do the same.”

“Got it. You start.”

He began with, “Born at
DeWitt Army Community Hospital.”

“Born at Carilion Hospital,” she said.

He had no idea where that was. “Located at Fort Belvoir,” he said.

“Located in Roanoke.”

That helped. He went on. “Uh, have no brothers or sisters.”

“Have an older sister.”

Okay. This conversation had revealed more about her sense of humor and family history than he had gathered from all previous conversations and a careful study of her résumé.

“Never traveled further than London,” he said.

“Visited my grandmother in Iceland,” she said.

That explained her last name.

“Like Monopoly,” he said. “But hate Scrabble.”

“Interesting,” she said. “Like Clue, but hate Parcheesi.”

“Damn, I wanted to like Clue,” he said.

“You may.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Never been married.”

“That’s obvious.”

“Hey, no comments.”

She nodded
sheepishly.

“So, answer the question,” he said.

“There was no question,” she said.

“You know…”

“Okay. Never owned a dog.”

So she was avoiding the marriage question.

“I know someone named Simon Wu,” he said.

“So do I.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded. She admitted to knowing the suspect, the deputy marshal working for the Witness Protection Program whose fingerprints were on the murder weapons.

“Excuse me?” he said. He hated to question her honesty. “I showed you his photograph along with all the mug shots, and you didn’t acknowledge it.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

The steaks arrived and the conversation had to wait. Jake was so curious about Stacy’s admission that he would almost rather forego the food.

When the waitress left, Jake leaned across the table. “When I showed you Simon’s picture, you didn’t say anything.”

“I recognized him at once,” she said plainly. “I thought you were just trying to throw me off.”

“And he wasn’t the assailant?”

“Simon? Of course not. I would have recognized him if he were on that path. But he’s hardly the killer.”

Jake was confused. Once again, her testimony was at odds with the evidence.

The FBI lab said the fingerprints were Wu’s, yet Stacy wasn’t able to place him at the scene.

“Does Wu play baseball?”

She thought about it and shook her head. “Why do you ask?”

“Maybe somebody picked up his bat and used it to club Chu.”

“He doesn’t own a baseball bat, as far as I know.”

It looked like someone was setting Wu up. But who was it
, and why?

Had someone planted Wu’s fingerprints on the
weapons somewhere in the process, either before the murder, during the crime scene investigation, or at the lab? The FBI claimed there was no contamination of the evidence, and he had to believe that.

Stacy looked undisturbed by what seemed to her to be a ridiculous allegation, and was happily eating her steak.

But Jake couldn’t let the matter go. “How well do you know Wu?”

“Very well, in fact. He’s my guy friend.”

Jake was thrown by the expression. “What do you mean by that?”

“Every girl has a guy friend or two. We can’t live on a strict diet of girlfriends and boyfriends.”

“I see. And how did you meet him?”

She held up a fork and chewed for a while. At last she swallowed and a smile spread over her lips. “Do I detect some rivalry here?”

“Me? I’m not personally involved whatsoever.”

She gave him a sideways glance and a knowing smile. “I’m not talking about our personal lives. You’re in the FBI and he’s a federal marshal. Do I sense some professional rivalry?”

Jake hadn’t considered that. “Naw. I don’t think so.”

He was absolutely confounded by her. She was either goading him, or exposing him. Or both.

“Actually, I don’t know Simon Wu,” he said. “The DOJ is a big organization. What does he do?”

He pinned her with his eyes, and she didn’t squirm.

“He says he protects people,” she said. “But you never know.”

“Does he pack a gun?”

“Yes.”

“Then he’s telling you the truth.”

She nodded slowly. “I suspected as much. But he doesn’t talk business with me.”

“What do you talk about?”

“My, you’re an awfully inquisitive guy,” she said with a mock frown. “Now there definitely is some sort of jealousy going on.”

Jake tried to laugh it off, and stuffed some bread in his mouth.

The only thing that kept him from falling for her was the mass of conflicting details about the murder case. He was unable to tell everyone’s exact connection to the A root server and role in the murder. He’d have to talk with Michael Epstein of the Criminal Division to see what he had found out.

Stacy happily cleared her plate before he did. She was a woman of appetites. In many respects, she didn’t hide a thing.

In addition to her good looks, her honesty made her attractive. If there was any clarity in the case, it came from her.

“What are you staring at?” she asked.

Only then did he realize that he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “I can’t help it,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

For the first time, she showed some emotion. She feigned waving a fan at herself to hide a blush.

But she had blushed. He could see it.

And she knew he saw it.

And so she laughed at herself.

“Oh boy,” she said. “This is getting steamy.”

Bingo. She was right on the money again. He began to wonder if honesty wasn’t a professional hazard of being a programmer, where computers only accepted the straightforward and true.

The concept was refreshing and made him want to choose a whole new profession, where he didn’t suspect everybody.

“I like your company,” he said at last.

“Verisign?” She looked confused.

He had to laugh. “Sure. I want to buy stock in it.”

She looked even more confused. “Why would you want to do that?”

By that point, he didn’t have the heart to correct her misconception. “I like its employees.”

“Oh.” She took it as a compliment, not the affectionate meaning he intended.

He tried again. “I like you.”

She rested her chin on her fist and simply smiled at him. “That’s very nice. But let’s not talk about it, okay?”

She had embarrassed him. Transparency might have worked for her, but it wasn’t working for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and reached across the table to take his hand. “I offended you.”

True again.

But he liked the hand holding and squeezed her fingers to let her know that there was no offense taken.

“I need to get to work early,” she said.

He understood. “One can’t keep the internet waiting.”

“Something like that. You won’t take it badly that I have to head home now?”

“Should I take you?”

She shook her head. “Two separate cars.”

She was right again. Logical as always. He tried to prevent himself from falling for that trait, but it worked in her.

She insisted on splitting the bill, and they both chipped in.

They walked through the parking lot holding hands. There was a blue cast to the evening, and headlights blurred in the haze.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” she said.

“Let’s.”

She faced him and he admired her wide eyes that seemed deeper and more mysterious at night.

She stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “Bye for now,” she whispered in his ear.

He stood there grinning as she jumped into her car and pulled away.

Reflecting over the course of their evening together, he felt like he had been run through a blender.

His questions had come back at him with more questions.

And his emotions had come back at him with equal force.

Basically, he couldn’t move until a driver honked at him in an effort to take the space he was occupying.