'Civil Streets,' Hawk said. 'There is nothing with their name on it. No file, no letters, no bills, nothing. You find his checkbook?'
'No.'
'So wherever he went, he took it with him.'
'Yep, and we know he's got one because one of those phone messages was about a bounced check.'
'How you feeling?' Hawk said.
'I haven't thrown up yet,' I said.
'Good to work with a pro.'
'Even better to work out here where the smell isn't as strong,' I said.
'Okay. There's that,' Hawk said. 'You want to wipe down the door knobs and the light switches.'
'No. It's reasonable that my fingerprints would be there.'
'You calling the cops?'
'Yes.'
'Law abiding,' Hawk said.
I took off the gloves and dropped them into the Nike bag. I put the spare keys in there too, except the one for the office.
'Hang onto these,' I said.
'Law abiding, but not crazy,' Hawk said.
'I'll be in touch,' I said. 'When the cops get through yelling at me.'
Hawk smiled, took the Nike bag, and went out the office door, leaving it open behind him. I waited five minutes for him to clear the building, then I dialed up Martin Quirk.
chapter twenty-two
I SAT IN Patti's chair in the outer office for maybe an hour and a half waiting for Quirk to get to me. Quirk hadn't changed much since he made captain. He still showed up at most crime scenes. He spent too much time investigating and too little time managing the department, which was why it took him so long to make captain in the first place, and why a lot of the hierarchy wanted to replace him. And I knew that he cleared more cases than any commander in the department, which was why the hierarchy couldn't replace him. If Quirk knew any of this, he paid no attention to it.
Finally it was my turn.
'You know how to give a statement,' Quirk said. 'Christ knows you've done enough of them.'
He and I were sitting together in the outer office, Quirk on the corner of Patti's desk, me still in her chair, which was too small. Quirk's employees had photographed the corpse and now were dusting for fingerprints, and measuring, and sampling, and poking, and studying. A team from the coroner's office finished getting the remains into a body bag and onto a gurney. They trundled it past us as we sat, leaving behind only the blood-stained rug, a chalk outline, and the strong smell.
'Well,' I said. 'First of all you'll find my fingerprints on the door and the light switches and the phone.'
'I sort of guessed that,' Quirk said. 'And I'm also guessing that we won't find them anywhere else.'
'Of course not,' I said.
'Which will not mean that you didn't touch anything else.'
'Boy, have you gotten cynical,' I said, 'since you made captain.'
Quirk rarely smiled, and he didn't this time, but his gaze, which was always steady, rested on me a little more lightly than it sometimes did.
'Go on,' he said. 'Tell me your story.'
So I did, as best as I could, since I didn't understand it too well myself. I left out any mention of searching Sterling's apartment. Quirk listened without expression. His thick hands rested quietly on his thighs. He always dressed well. Tonight he had on a blue tweed jacket and a white button-down shirt with a blue knit tie and gray slacks. He never needed a haircut. He always looked clean-shaven. His shirts were always freshly laundered. His plain toe cordovan shoes were always shined. When I got through explaining myself, Quirk was silent for a time.
Then he said, 'Susan's ex-husband?'
'Yes.'
He was silent again for a time. Then he shook his head slowly. I shrugged.
'And this is his office,' Quirk said after a while. 'To which he gave you a key.'
'Yes.'
'Because he thought it might be convenient for you to come here and let yourself in.'
'Right,' I said.
Quirk looked at me some more.
'We both know that's horseshit,' he said. 'But we also know that's all you're going to say until there's reason to say something else.'
