'You know we still can't believe anything Lisa Bolt says,' Pearl told him.
'Of course not. On the other hand, maybe she's had an epiphany. That can happen when you're struck by a moving vehicle.'
'Or you can wake up in a hospital and be as big a liar as before you were struck.'
'That too,' Quinn said. He paused and felt at his shirt pocket, as if absently seeking a cigar. 'Do you think whoever attacked you could have been a woman, Pearl?'
Pearl gave it some thought. 'It's possible. It all happened so damned fast. He-or she-was slender, maybe short to average height for a man, but damned strong. I'd guess an athletic, wiry man. But a woman… possibly.'
'Tiffany's postmortem has her at five-feet-nine. Chrissie would be the same height.'
'Might fit. I never saw whoever killed Yancy stand up straight, so I could only guess within several inches either way.'
'And madness, obsession, gives people strength,' Quinn said.
You should know, Pearl thought.
They were quiet for a moment as a trio of nurses bustled past.
'Lisa Bolt's going to be out of here soon,' Pearl said, 'and she needs to be watched.'
'Your job and Fedderman's,' Quinn said. He laid a hand very lightly on her shoulder, as if concerned that she might drift away like a balloon, and looked down into her eyes. 'How are you doing, Pearl? Really?'
'I don't want you worrying about me.'
She was determined not to let Quinn find his way back into her affections by way of her grief for Yancy. She didn't think he'd do that deliberately, but it sure as hell could happen. She couldn't trust him, and she couldn't trust herself, so she had to play it tough.
'But I do worry, Pearl. I can't help it.'
'And I can't help it if you do,' she said. 'So worry away. Just don't involve me.'
66
Quinn sat in Renz's office and watched sunlight angle in through the blinds and cast slices of brilliance swarming with dust motes. The office was warm, crowded as it was and with the invasion of the sun. Renz, seated behind his desk and wearing navy blue suspenders and a white shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up, appeared cool. There was in the air the faintest scent of cigar smoke, as there was the whiff of political corruption.
Quinn had suggested the meeting, but Renz was pretending he'd summoned him. Quinn knew it was some kind of ruse to maintain dominance. Renz was full of such minor stratagems to help him become or remain top dog. Quinn used to enjoy deflating Renz, but he'd become bored with that and usually let the dog have his day.
'This investigation is turning into a disaster,' Renz said. 'The media wolves are all over it and all over me. The mayor's office calls half a dozen times a day.' He leaned forward over his desk and glared at Quinn, who was seated in one of the chairs facing the desk. 'What the bejesus is going on?'
'Progress,' Quinn said.
'Do illuminate me.'
Quinn told him about Lisa Bolt's recovery and what she'd said yesterday at the hospital.
'And we still don't know where the real Chrissie Keller is?' Renz asked.
'Not yet,' Quinn said.
'Then the only actual progress I see is you found the woman who conned you into thinking she was Chrissie. And you needed a careless cab driver to do that.'
'Not quite.'
He told Renz about Tiffany Keller's childhood molestation by her father, and about Chrissie's guilt over doing nothing to stop it. Watching Renz's flabby features, Quinn was glad he'd decided to present this information to the Machiavellian police commissioner face-to-face. It opened up all sorts of possibilities.
Renz sat running a fingernail over his close-shaven, over-flowing jowls. Anyone listening closely could hear the sound of the nail scraping minute gray stubble.
At last he said, 'You proposing using the father as bait?'
Renz hadn't quite proposed the idea himself, which was what Quinn had wanted. But this should be close enough.
'Addie gave me the idea,' Quinn said. Since Renz had assigned Addie to the case, he had to at least pretend to give serious consideration to a strategy based on her theory.
'What's the wife, Erin, say about this?' Renz asked.
'Nothing yet. She doesn't know we're considering it.'
'Does she know her prick husband molested their daughters?'
'Probably. That's usually the case.'
'She'd go along with using him as bait, then. Might even be enthusiastic.'
'Might be ecstatic.'
'Where's hubby now?'
'We haven't tried to locate him yet. I wanted your opinion first.'
'Tell me more.'
'We could leak it to the press that he's in town, leak where he's staying. If Chrissie really did commit any of these murders, making it look like the Carver's back in action, she might go after old dad. She's already got blood on her hands, and she is out to avenge her sister's death. Why not also avenge her sister's molestation? Assuage at least some of that guilt she's suffering for keeping quiet about what was going on?'
'Might work,' Renz said. 'But if we try it and fail, I'll be chewed up like dog food by the media. You understand that politically this will be a risk?'
'Sure. But it might be a bigger risk not to act and make something happen.'
'There'll be no way to keep it out of the media.'
'No,' Quinn said. 'But that's okay. At least some of it has to be public knowledge for it to work.'
'Do you even know where Dad is?'
'He should be easy to find.'
'Hah! If you do find him, how will you make him go along with being bait?'
'I don't know yet. We might ask the twins' mother.'
'Maybe you could hold a child molestation charge over Dad's head, so he cooperates or does prison time.'
'The statute of limitation's expired,' Quinn said. 'He couldn't be prosecuted even if there was enough evidence.'
'He might not know that.'
Quinn stood up. 'So I've got the okay to do this?' He wanted no mistake about Renz's involvement. He and Renz would own this decision, and suffer their respective consequences if it failed.
'Do it,' Renz said, also standing. 'It's better than what we've been doing, which seems mostly to be going around finding fresh victims.'
Quinn nodded and moved toward the door.
'How are Vitali and Mishkin working out?' Renz asked behind him.
Quinn stopped and looked back. 'They're good cops.'
'And Addie Price? How's she working out?'
'She's the reason I'm here,' Quinn said.
Renz grinned. 'I can pick 'em. Right?'
Quinn said, 'That's the reason you're here.'
He went out the door, wondering if the twins' father was still alive and could be found.
