reached a walled area near the emergency room. He went through a gate as if he owned the place, and Frank saw that they were in a small garden, an outdoor waiting area for families of patients. At one end of the garden was a fountain with a religious statue at its center — a serene woman Frank guessed to be St. Anne, although he wasn’t sure. There was a bench near the fountain. Hale moved to the bench but did not sit down. He frowned at the statue for a moment, then turned to Frank and said, “Well?”
Now that he had the chief’s attention, he wasn’t sure where to begin. Hale was obviously not in a receptive mood.
“Well?” the chief said again.
“The NTSB contacted me today. I drove out to where they are studying the wreckage of Lefebvre’s plane. They’ve made some preliminary findings that I thought you should know about, sir.”
“How odd,” the chief said.
“Sir?”
“How odd, Detective Harriman, that the chain of command in this department has been changed and no one saw fit to tell me about it. So now you report directly to me and not to Lieutenant Carlson?”
Frank considered saying nothing more. Carlson wasn’t up to handling a problem like this, and Bredloe — the man he would have gone to under other circumstances — was in no condition to help. Frank had decided to approach Hale because he trusted him. He knew Hale tried to run an honest department — that was part of why Frank liked working for the Las Piernas PD. But this was the second time in as many days that the chief had rebuffed him after a mention of Lefebvre’s name. Tired and frustrated, Frank felt his hold on his temper slipping and clenched his teeth to hold back a suggestion about where Hale could put his organization chart. If he couldn’t talk to Hale, to hell with it.
Hale watched his reaction, smiled, and said, “As long as you have me here, Detective, let’s hear it.”
“I need to know that I’m speaking to you with absolute confidentiality,” Frank said.
Hale looked surprised, but said, “All right. Now what’s the trouble?”
“There is definite evidence that Lefebvre’s plane was sabotaged, sir. Lefebvre was murdered.”
Hale sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that. But those who do business with men like Whitey Dane shouldn’t expect to live forever.”
“But we can’t assume—”
“Lefebvre was cozying up to the wrong side!” he said angrily. “Obviously the man who hired him killed him.”
“With all due respect,” Frank said, again struggling to control his own temper, “there is another possibility. It’s possible that Lefebvre was not working with Dane, that someone else within our department stole that evidence and murdered Seth Randolph. And Lefebvre as well.”
“Ludicrous.”
“Lefebvre had an excellent record and no motive to kill Seth Randolph. If he was working for Dane, why did he call attention to the
“No one believes he was working for Dane then. He was obviously recruited later, when Dane saw that he had access to the boy. As for motive — Dane had enough money to make it worthwhile.”
“To make it worthwhile to someone, yes. But not necessarily Lefebvre.”
“Do you suppose we just drew his name out of a hat ten years ago? It was not simply that he fled, you know. He was the last person to handle the evidence against Dane and the last person to enter Seth Randolph’s room before the boy’s body was found. You know those are the facts, Detective Harriman.”
“I’m not saying I understand all of his actions on that night, sir — but to ignore the possibility that Lefebvre was framed is to endanger other members of the department now.”
“Such as you?” Hale asked sarcastically.
“Such as Captain Bredloe.”
“Harriman, really—”
“The paper airplane, sir. It has to be connected. A mistake on the part of—”
“Detective Harriman,” Hale said, leaning so that he was only a few inches from Frank’s face. “I’ll tell you who’s making a mistake. You are.” He straightened, then began pacing, muttering to himself. “Paper airplanes! For God’s sake—”
“Captain Bredloe and I had been talking — arguing, really — about Lefebvre not long before the captain left for the Sheffield Club. Many members of the department knew that — I think Lefebvre’s killer knew it. Not much later someone used that paper airplane to lure the captain out to where he’d be hit by the falling bricks.”
Hale rolled his eyes. “God grant me patience! You find a paper airplane in a suit pocket and you’re ready to call in the paratroopers. Bredloe could have picked up that paper airplane anywhere — anytime. He could have made it himself.”
Frank stayed silent. He thought of arguing that even the lab believed Bredloe’s attacker made the plane, but obviously Hale’s mind was made up.
“You asked to speak to me in confidence,” Hale said. “I will respect that request, in part because I know you have done good work for this department. We’ve had our ups and downs with you, but you’ve got the gift. No, don’t look surprised to hear me say that — and don’t expect I’ll ever admit I did. I don’t think of it as voodoo, you know. But I’ve been on the job too long not to know it when I see it. You’ve got it. I’ll tell you who else had it — Lefebvre. For all the good it did him.”
“I’m gratified by your comments, sir, but—”
“You should be. But don’t think that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy about you, Harriman. You’re a damned pain in the ass. And if you think I enjoy working with a pain in the ass, maybe you don’t have such great instincts
