“Hell, yes. I want it back.”
“I’ll wash it first.”
He laughed. “I’d appreciate that.”
The first police officers had arrived almost immediately — the Bakersfield Police Department is just down the street from the library. The moment I mentioned “Ryan-Neukurk” they were on the radio.
I went back into the local history room to gather my notebook and put away the annual when Cassidy arrived; the Bakersfield officers were already searching the building and surrounding area. The local history librarian, who had been apologetic, had also done a better job than I of observing the man.
A gray wig and dark clothing, reeking of aftershave but found in a neat bundle, were retrieved from a rest room waste bin. But despite an intensive effort to find him, there was no other sign of the person who had played the part of the old man.
Cassidy convinced the local police that it would be best to let me go home with him while it was still possible to evade the reporters who were waiting outside. My fellow journalists had shouted questions, but I simply let Cassidy silently maneuver me into a waiting patrol car.
“I decided to let Officer Brewitt do the driving when we got the call,” he said as he closed the car door, then got in and asked her to take the long way back to Bea’s house.
The circuitous route had given me time to regain some of my composure, but now I realized it had also given Cassidy time to search my purse.
“Cassidy,” I said more insistently now, “give that back to me.”
“Just making sure there aren’t any new items in here,” he said. “Here, you go through the wallet. Don’t just look for things that might be missing. Look for things that might be added. He took your purse for a reason.”
I was noting that Hocus hadn’t left me any poorer or richer when Cassidy said, “Bingo.”
He handed me a little slip of paper. “I take it this wasn’t already in here?”
It was a note that said “Progress report scheduled for midnight — H.”
“No, no, it wasn’t,” I told him. “So they’re calling at midnight?”
“Looks that way,” Cassidy said. “Officer Brewitt, would you please be so kind as to ask your dispatcher to patch me through to Detective Ellie Sledzik?”
“Ellie?” the driver asked.
“Excuse me. Detective Eleanor C. Sledzik.”
Brewitt smiled and made the call.
When Detective Sledzik came on, Cassidy merely said, “Next one at twenty-four hundred.” She acknowledged the information and they signed off.
Cassidy did a little more rummaging, then handed the purse back and said, “Keep checking for me, Irene. I might have missed something still.”
“Who’s Eleanor Sledzik?”
“She’s our liaison with Bakersfield PD. She’s also been working with the phone company on the tap on your mother-in-law’s phone line. Besides being damned smart and a pleasure to work with, she has a gift for getting judges to see when they ought to hurry up and act on a request for a warrant.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to recruit her down to Las Piernas.”
“She’s considering it,” Cassidy said, making Officer Brewitt laugh. Brewitt hadn’t been around Cassidy long enough to know he wasn’t kidding.
As we climbed the porch steps Cassidy said, “Boy, when old Frank is home safe and sound again, I’ve got to be the first one who gets to talk to him.”
I looked up at him. He was grinning.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I’m dying to tell him that his wife got into trouble just going to the library.”
“Maybe I won’t wash that handkerchief.”
Once inside the house I was fussed over by Bea and Rachel and Pete.
“If y’all will excuse us,” Cassidy said, “it’s important that I have a few minutes to talk to Irene.”
Reluctantly they allowed me to follow him back to his temporary office. I told him what I had learned from Cecilia and at the library.
“Well,” he said, “I was considering Brian Harriman myself. Powell’s arrest records show that Frank’s dad arrested Powell twice.”
“But Brian couldn’t—”
“Hold your horses, there’s more to it. Both times, Powell was right back out again. First time, the substance they found on him was not illegal — at least, it wasn’t by the time the lab looked at it. Second time, key witness came in and said he was coerced into making false statements. When I looked at it a little closer, either problem could have been caused by Harriman’s partners.”
“Which partners?”
“Different one each time — Bradshaw, then Matthews. But Cook had a connection to Powell, too. He was the first one to arrest Powell. He was assigned to Vice at the time.”
“He was a detective?”
“I asked Ellie Sledzik about it. She looked up Cook’s records and found out that Cook spent three years as a detective — blew something on a big case and ended up back on patrol.” He paused, then added, “I asked for information on all three officers — and Brian Harriman, too.”
