“Hendricks put a hand on her forearm.
“Ladies,” he said. “Ladies. This isn’t the time, ladies.”
Everyone was silent. Jesse waited. No one spoke.
“Does anyone have any thought on who might have wanted to kill Walton Weeks and Carey Longley?”
No one spoke. Jesse waited.
Then Hendricks said, “Maybe somebody only wanted to kill one of them and the other one died as a by- product.”
“Possible,” Jesse said. “Any idea which was the target?”
“Well, certainly Walton was the most prominent,” Hendricks said, “and after his death he was . . . displayed more prominently.”
“Yes,” Jesse said. “That’s true. Anything else?”
No one spoke. Jesse smiled pleasantly at them.
“We will probably need to talk to each of you individually,” Jesse said, “in the course of the investigation. We’re not handy to each other, so it may take some travel. But we can phone and fax and e-mail. It’s a small department, but we’re very modern.”
No one said anything. Jesse gave out his card to those who didn’t have one.
“Detective Simpson, do you have anything to add?”
“No, sir,” Suit said.
Jesse nodded and smiled at them all again.
“We’ll be in touch,” he said.
9 4
22
I like those women,” Suit said in the car driving north through Connecticut.
“In the carnal sense?” Jesse said.
“Of course not, I’m, like, almost a detective for crissake,”
Suit said. “I think if we push them a little, they will explode and a lot of stuff we don’t know will come flying out.”
“There’s usually tension between ex-and current wives,”
Jesse said.
“You speaking from experience?” Suit said.
“Only way to speak,” Jesse said.
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“So what do you think about those people?” Suit said.
“Seems to me they were all living off of Weeks and now he’s gone, they’re scrambling to see what’s left.”
“Why do you think so?” Jesse said.
“Couple of things. One: Of course anytime the milk cow dies everybody starts worrying about where they gonna get
