even sound alike? We did everything together. She was a track star, I was a track star. She went to a girls’ prep, I went with her, then to UVA, then to Harvard Law.”
“No kidding.”
“Because I’m darker, and she was a year ahead of me, they called me her shadow. I know this sounds strange. We were sisters, but more than sisters.”
“You miss her.”
“He cut out my heart. It’s like he killed me. ”
I didn’t respond to that, but it brought some clarity to why she was here, and the scale of her emotional stake in this case.
But recalling that the purpose of this dinner was to take our mind off more serious matters, I asked, “And did you like the same men?”
“No. Poor Lisa was always attracted to creeps and jerks.” She laughed.
Interesting.
“So you never fought over boys?”
“Actually, I was seriously involved until recently.”
“What happened?”
“Old story. Business mixed with pleasure, and it didn’t work out.”
“Another lawyer?”
“He has a law degree, but wasn’t practicing. He was in the FBI. I met him on a case a few years ago, we moved in together, got engaged, and…” She brushed some hair off her forehead and said, “You don’t want to hear about this.”
“Am I getting too personal?”
“No. It’s just such a common tale.”
“These things are never common. What happened?”
“George was a real hotshot in the Boston Field Office. Early promotions, a drawerful of citations, a real up- and-comer. We worked a case together, some mob murders actually, that he had broken and developed. I had just moved into the felonies section, it was my first big case, I needed help, and he got me through it.”
“Go on.”
“I was madly in love with him. We lived together three years.” She looked away and said, “I broke it off.”
“Why?”
“We worked another case, and it didn’t work out.”
“His problem, or yours?”
She paused a moment, then said, “George was very ambitious. The more successful he became, the more ambitious he got. You know how that happens?”
“It happens to some people.”
“George had been working this case for a year. He was under unbearable pressure from the mayor’s office and his bosses to break it. Car theft is a major problem in Boston, everybody pays for it in high insurance rates, and the case involved a massive interstate auto theft ring. Whoever brought it down and got the convictions was going to be a hero. George somehow got to some people on the inside, treated it like a conspiracy, used one source to roll up another, and a number of the indictments landed on my desk to take to the grand jury.”
I nodded but wasn’t expected to comment, so I didn’t.
“The ring was large, several hundred people, from street kids who collected the cars, to chop shops, to the millionaires who controlled it. A few of the defense attorneys approached me. They said George had broken the rules, and complained that the discovery elements that had been turned over to them were partial, that certain critical pieces of evidence were withheld. They were talking about witness coercion, some strongarming, and perhaps unauthorized wiretaps. There was enough there that I went to George and asked him. He insisted they were lying. But I knew George. He was lying. The next day his office approached the DA and asked to have me removed from the case on the pretext that I hadn’t shown sufficient enthusiasm and dedication.”
“And your boss bought that?”
“The part he bought was that no DA is successful without the full and friendly support of your local FBI office. Also, this was your basic checkbook case. He also wanted credit for bringing down insurance rates.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, George got his grand jury indictments, his promotion, and his reassignment to FBI headquarters.”
“When was this?”
“About six months ago.”
“What did you say to him afterward?”
“I didn’t. Oddly enough, I was still in love with him, and I wasn’t sure how I’d do in a confrontation. I left him a note, moved out, and took a thirty-day vacation. When he tried calling, I hung up.”
“The cathartic solution in these things is to look them in the eye and tell them to screw off.”
She smiled and said, “Next time, I’ll call you and ask how to handle it.”
I didn’t seem to be having much luck staying on cheerier topics, so I tried again. “Why didn’t you follow Lisa into the JAG Corps?”
“I actually considered it. But my father’s getting older, my youngest sister was just starting high school, my mother’s dead… you understand?… Somebody had to stay nearby. Lisa did the heavy lifting when we grew up. It was her turn to go into the world and follow her dream.”
Sometimes in the midst of a pleasant conversation, something perfectly innocuous gets said, but it isn’t at all innocuous. We both, I think, experienced the same jarring, nasty realization that Lisa’s dream had just ended in a nightmare. And like that, the mood was killed.
She took a few more sips of wine. I took a few more sips of wine. We avoided each other’s eyes.
Then I said, “Janet, be honest. What’s your interest in catching this guy?”
“As in, justice or revenge?” I nodded, and she said, “I’m a law enforcement officer. I work inside the system and believe in it, for all it’s worth.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
So we’d both said the right words. Actually, for me, justice was revenge, especially if the killer got to squat on the hot seat. But I wasn’t sure she wanted that same order. We returned to the task of eating our pizza, and trading small talk, but the mood was irretrievably dead, and then the tray was empty and Dom Jimmy Jones was clearing the dirty dishes, and presenting our bill.
On the way out, I said to Janet, “I’ll drive you back to the hotel.”
She replied, “Not yet. I thought we’d go search Lisa’s apartment now.”
“What?”
“It’s not far. I’d like to search it now.”
“I thought we agreed we’re facing a serial killer.”
“And I thought we agreed that’s speculative. Martin and Spinelli can work that angle.”
“Translate that for me.”
“We’ve taking precautionary measures.”
“Precautionary?”
“Yes. At least, somebody should consider other motives and possibilities.”
This was very obtuse and I found myself wondering if Janet Morrow knew something she hadn’t yet shared, that she had some tangible reason to suspect that the facts, as we currently understood them, had a few holes.
If so, for some reason she had not shared those reasons with me. Which was odd, but I’d also spent enough time with this lady to appreciate that she played by her own rules. In short, the only way I was going to get to the bottom of this was to go along for the ride, which brought to mind that ancient warning-curiosity killed the cat.
But I’m a dog person. Surely I was safe.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
