between Dickey and Clara, he would never have made the leap. But Clara had given him the file and Jason had studied it. He knew how deeply involved Clara had been with Dickey.
“Someone you don’t want implicated,” he said, “like the victim.”
“Yes.” Clara met his eyes. “You know Hal took advantage of me years ago. He manipulated Ray’s case, and he manipulated me. He was my supervisor. I had no choice but to follow his instruction.”
But Clara had not been acting under Hal’s supervision when she met with Ray two days before his death or when she spoke to him only minutes before he put the plastic bag over his head. Jason could see the strings. Clara didn’t want the FBI to know about her troubled relationship with Dickey. Jason had the Cowles file, which incriminated her in both cases. Now Clara wanted him to take the condom.
“Well,” he said finally. “I’ll have the condom tested if you want me to, but I’ll have to give it to the police. I have no choice about that. This is a criminal investigation. I have to cooperate with them.”
“The police are not competent to deal with this.”
“I would disagree with that view. But it’s up to you. I can’t take evidence in a homicide unless I turn it over to the police.”
Clara hesitated. He could see her weighing the pros and cons of different alliances. For some reason she wanted the protection of the FBI but did not intend to fully cooperate with them. She was playing a dangerous game. After a few minutes, however, she agreed and handed over the plastic package. Jason left with it almost immediately, pulling on the ragged growth of his new beard. He didn’t have long to reach April Woo before both their days got complicated. He wanted the thing out of his possession within the hour.
forty-seven
“Let’s get this straight.” Sergeant Joyce stopped to sneeze all over the phone as she replaced the receiver. “Jason Frank gave you a used
April stood in front of Sergeant Joyce’s desk and nodded. She wondered if this was a good time to tell her about the FBI.
Joyce sneezed again and barked, “Sit down—you’re giving me a headache.”
April flinched and moved over to the windowsill, where the air was still leaking cold. She knew of some Chinese remedies that might help her supervisor’s condition, but she didn’t think the Sergeant would appreciate them.
“And you did
“Uh, I took it to the labs to be tested.”
“Give me a hint, April Tested for what?”
“Well, to get a blood type, to try for a match with—”
The door opened and Mike came in with a funny smile on his face. “You asked for me?”
“What’s with you, Sanchez?” Joyce hacked into a paper napkin.
“What?”
“You know something I don’t?”
Mike turned to April and winked, then shook his head, looking serious. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing, just the Feebies want in, that’s all. What the fuck is going on here?”
Mike’s crooked eyebrows came together. “The feds? In what?”
“I just got a call from Special Agent”—she glanced down at the note she had scribbled, then sneezed on —“Stephen Daveys. He wants to work closely with us on the case. He’ll be in to chat with us at four. That gives us about four hours to clear it.” She barked out a short laugh.
April didn’t share her enjoyment. They’d been talking for several minutes and the Sergeant had waited until Mike appeared to mention it
Mike scratched his nose. “Excuse me, I must have missed something here. What case are we talking about?”
“It remains a little confused, a little hazy, Sanchez. What would the feds want with the case of an unnatural death of a shrink at the Psychiatric Centre? You tell me.”
“Hmmm. Could be a number of things.” He went silent, then glanced at April. “I heard you were at the labs this morning. We missed each other.”
“Detective,” Joyce said sarcastically, “why don’t you tell the Sergeant what you were doing there.”
April made a clicking noise with her tongue. It was the same noise Skinny Dragon Mother made when she was about to release her pent-up rage. April sniffed cautiously, wondering if Joyce’s cold happened to be traveling her way, clicked her tongue again. Then she cleared her throat and smiled at Mike.
“I had some sperm I wanted tested.”
“Oh, yeah?” he said. “Whose?”
“Dr. Treadwell thinks it came from the guy who offed Dickey.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mike said again. “I don’t remember any sperm at the death scene.”
April kept her face straight. “It came up before the death. It appeared at some meeting Dr. Treadwell was having to discuss the Cowles case on Friday. Someone put it in her appointment book.”
Mike chewed on his mustache. “Uh-huh,” he said. “And how did you get it?”
She squirmed a little. “Jason Frank gave it to me.”
“No kidding. How did
“Jason Frank is Dr. Treadwell’s consultant on the Cowles suicide.”
“And what does that have to do with this?” Joyce screamed.
“Dickey was Treadwell’s supervisor on Cowles’s treatment eighteen years ago. And Treadwell and the hospital are being sued for twenty-six million by the widow and the insurance company.”
“Oh, shit.” Joyce let go of the hair to blow her nose. “Oh, shit. I don’t like this.”
“And you think …”
April threw out a possible. “Dickey’s the only witness to Cowles’s treatment. If he’s dead, he can’t testify in a malpractice case.”
“What are you suggesting here, April? You think the Director of the Psychiatric Centre—a woman who happens to be on the President’s Commission on Mental Health—killed her former supervisor to prevent him from taking the stand against her in a case he supervised eighteen years ago? That sound plausible to you?” Joyce was still screaming.
“They getting much federal funding?” Sanchez drummed his fingers on the armrests of the chair he finally fell into.
“Who?”
“The hospital, hospital community programs—”
“Bingo, a nice fed connection. Fine—let them deal,” Joyce muttered, wiping her hands of it.
“Yeah, but it might not be that. Hell, the Feebs can come in on anything. They’ve got a thousand excuses to step on any toes they want. Hey, maybe it’s not homicide they’re interested in. Maybe it’s some kind of corruption.” Sanchez turned to April. “So what’s this about a used rubber in your possession this morning, April?”
“There’s more to the Treadwell thing,” April said. “Jason confirmed what Mrs. Dickey said about Treadwell and her husband. They did have an affair while Treadwell was in training there. After Treadwell qualified, she left for a dozen years, married, divorced, worked in California; married again, divorced again. She came back here as head of the psychiatric hospital three years ago.
“About six months ago she started dating a U.S. Senator and about the same time began getting threatening notes. Last week Jason was present when she reached in her desk drawer and was cut by a surgical scalpel someone had rigged up in there. The used condom turned up at a meeting when she opened her leather appointment book—”
“And Jason Frank told you all this?” Joyce interrupted skeptically.
“He told me about the events he witnessed. Her personal history I investigated on my own,” April replied.
“Well, good work, Detective,” Joyce said sarcastically.
