50
Suitcase Simpson came in with his notebook and sat down in front of Jesse’s desk.
“Master detective,” he said.
“You enjoy Baltimore?” Jesse said.
“Yeah. It’s pretty cool. They got like this huge Quincy Market on the harbor. Lotta places to get crab cakes.”
“You detect anything?” Jesse said.
“Besides the crab cakes?” Suit said. “Yeah. I did.”
Jesse tipped his chair back and waited.
“I went to the Baltimore County police, and talked with a nice woman in the personnel department.”
H I G H P R O F I L E
“You get to her right away?”
“Pretty quick. I turned on the charm.”
“Wow,” Jesse said.
“It helps in detective work, you know, if you’re charming.”
“I didn’t know that,” Jesse said.
“Anyway, when Lutz worked there the beneficiary of his life insurance was Lorraine Pilarcik. She was on his medical insurance, too.”
“And what was her relation to him?” Jesse said.
“He listed her as his wife.”
“Lorraine,” Jesse said.
“It gets better,” Suit said.
“Good.”
“I got his address during the time he worked there and went and talked with people in his old neighborhood,” Suit said. “There were three, four people that remembered both of them. They all called her Lorrie.”
“Tell me you showed them the picture of Lorrie Weeks?”
Jesse said.
“I did.”
“And?”
“It was her.”
“Suit,” Jesse said, “you’ll probably be chief of detectives.”
“When we have a detective unit.”
“Immediately after that,” Jesse said.
“They hedged a little. You know what license photos are like. And they knew her like fifteen years ago. But they all
