Her good humour visibly evaporated. She had the look of a puppy kicked by its master for no reason other than bad temper.
Kovaks took a deep breath. ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he said quickly.
Totally inadequate. ‘I didn’t mean what I said.’
‘ Yes, you did,’ she said petulantly. ‘I may be fat but I don’t need reminding of it.’
This was ground Kovaks didn’t wish to cover.
‘ Forget it, huh? I’m sorry, honest.’ He shrugged his shoulders and wore a suitably regretful look. ‘Can we get back to square one? Pretty please?’
She sighed through her nose, her large shoulders rising and falling.
A glimmer of a smile played on her lips. She nodded. ‘OK.’
‘ Good. I take it you made some progress.’
‘ Sure have,’ she said brightly. ‘Here.’ She rooted through some papers on the desk and pulled out the faxes. Attached to them was a black-and-white photograph. It was blurred, obviously taken from a moving vehicle, but clearly showed Corelli sitting at a table in a pavement cafe with another man — the same one as in the faxes. It was dated four years previously. Around the border was written: Corelli dining with unidentified male. Carmel, Calif. No I.D. ever made.’
‘ Well done.’ Kovaks patted her fleshy shoulder.
‘ Found it within five minutes,’ she admitted. ‘Then I got bored waiting for you, so I pigged out.’
‘ Of course, it doesn’t really get us anywhere,’ Kovaks brooded out loud. ‘All it does is show us that Corelli once sat at a table with this guy. Not proof of very much, is it?’
‘ What exactly are you trying to prove?’
‘ Something big.’ Kovaks picked up the photo and faxes and said, ‘Come on, let’s go and see a man about a don.’
As they walked away from the desk the phone began to ring.
Kovaks groaned, but snatched up the receiver. It was Damian.
‘ Joe — got something for you. Haul your ass in here.’
Kovaks chuckled at Damian’s dramatic turn of phrase as he hurried to the Fingerprint Bureau. He’d never heard the other guy say a bad word like ‘ass’ before.
As ever, Damian was sat at his station. His computer screen showed a set of prints.
His tie, however, was discarded over the back of his chair.
Heyyy, this had to be big, Kovaks thought. The guy had taken his tie off!
‘ What have you got for me?’ he said.
Damian looked round. His short-sighted eyes lingered for more than a moment on Sue before returning to Kovaks.
‘ A match is what I’ve got. Several matches in fact,’ he announced.
His voice quivered with an undercurrent of delight.
Kovaks pulled up a chair and indicated for Sue to do likewise.
‘ You asked me to compare the fingerprints from England with the partial prints we have from the mob killings you and Karl are investigating. ‘
Kovaks nodded.
‘ I can confirm they match.’
‘ You certain?’
‘ Yes.’
‘ Wow. I take it we still don’t know the guy’s identity?’
‘ Whoever he is, he’s not on record.’
‘ Oh well, can’t have everything. Pity. Thanks, Damian. I owe you.’ Kovaks shrugged and began to rise.
‘ There is something else, actually.’ Kovaks re-seated himself. ‘Go on.’
‘ Just out of professional interest I did a further search with the prints from England and found some intriguing matches with partial prints from other crime scenes. This guy’s been pretty busy.’
‘ Damian, don’t keep me in suspense.’
‘ Well, I looked at the bombings, which as you know have happened all over the States. Here, Memphis, LA…’
‘ Yes, yes, I know,’ said Kovaks testily.
‘ So I wondered if there’s been any other crimes committed in the same places, on or around the same dates, that could’ve been perpetrated by the same man but weren’t linked because we only had partial prints.’
‘ And I take it there were,’ said Kovaks.
‘ Yep.’ Damian smiled cheekily and raised his eyebrows at Kovaks and Sue. The smile for Sue lasted a fraction longer than it should. She giggled girlishly.
‘ Damian, just fucking tell me, OK?’
‘ Joe!’ Sue rebuked him. ‘There’s no need to talk like that! He’s only trying to help. And you really must stop swearing.’ She beamed at Damian, who beamed back.
‘ Sorry,’ Kovaks said contritely. ‘Damian, do go on.’
‘ Thank you. You might be pleased to know that I’ve linked this man to seven other murders. The victims are prostitutes. All left with broken necks and killed at more or less the same time as the bombings. As well as being a professional hit man, your guy kills for fun too.’
‘ A serial killer,’ breathed Kovaks. ‘That’s all we need.’
‘ The cops in England are on this guy’s tail, but unless I can find out something more for them — and fast — they’ll lose him and we’ll all be back to first base,’ Kovaks explained to Sue as they ran down the steps to the ground floor.
‘ What’s the English angle?’ she enquired.
‘ Long story — no time to tell it now, but amongst other things they think he killed all those people with that motorway bomb.’
‘ Jeez,’ wheezed Sue, glad to reach the foot of the stairs. ‘So what’re you going to do?’
This was asked as Kovaks pushed open the security door leading to the public entrance foyer of the building. ‘Well, the time for the subtle approach is long gone… oh shit!’ He stopped in his tracks.
He’d spotted Lisa Want, pacing the foyer like a tigress. Fortunately, she hadn’t seen him yet.
Kovaks began to reverse through the door. In his haste, he backed right into Sue, and trod heavily on her foot, crushing her big toe under his shoe like stepping on a walnut. She yelled in agony and pushed Kovaks away with such force that he lost his balance and belly-flopped onto the shiny marble floor.
Winded, bruised, he looked helplessly from his prone position all the way up the long, stunning, mini-skirted legs of Lisa Want.
‘ Joe, I’m sorry,’ babbled Sue as she hobbled over to help him up.
Kovaks shrugged himself ungratefully out of Sue’s meaty grasp and glared into the smirking face of Lisa Want, chief crime reporter on the Miami Herald.
‘ Joe,’ she said, suppressing a giggle, ‘what a spectacular entrance. You should be a stuntman.’
She was holding a voice-activated tape-recorder in one hand.
‘ Whatever it is, Lisa, I’ve nothing to say to you. No comment.’
She raised a finely plucked eyebrow. ‘I’ve not asked anything yet.’
‘ Well, don’t, then you won’t be disappointed. Bye, Lisa.’ He walked painfully away towards the exit, Sue limping behind.
Lisa followed. ‘Do you have any comment to make about the motorway bombing in England?’ she asked.
Stunned for a moment, he said, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. ‘
‘ I have it on good authority there’s a stateside connection. Can you confirm this?’ She thrust the tape- recorder under his nose.
Kovaks shook his head, pushed on towards the door.
‘ What about the Mafia connection?’ she probed deeper.
Kovaks still had nothing to say.
