judge to sign a search warrant for a church or its minister is like saying you want him to piss in the holy water font.” Harry smiled at the image, making Rourke raise the cautioning finger again. “I mean it, Harry. Don’t take this lightly, or your ass will be in more trouble than you ever dreamed of.”
“I know, cap.” Harry conjured up Bobby Joe’s father sending forth a proverbial river of outrage.
There was a knock on the door, interrupting them. Vicky came right behind the knock, pushing the door open and stepping up to the desk. Jim Morgan followed her, seeming a bit nervous over the sudden intrusion.
“Sorry, cap, but you and Harry need to hear this right away,” Vicky said.
Rourke glared at her. When he spoke, his voice rose steadily in volume and ferocity with each word. “This better be damn good, detective. One of the joys of being a captain is having a private office that people cannot barge into when the goddamn door is closed and somebody is sitting in the goddamn visitor’s chair.”
Vicky was unfazed, Harry was grinning, and Morgan looked as though he wished he were somewhere else.
Vicky gave Rourke a little girl smile that almost broke Harry up. “Trust me, cap,” she said wide-eyed and innocent, “this is something you need to hear forthwith.”
Rourke narrowed his stare. “Speak,” he growled. “And make it good.”
Vicky extended a hand toward Morgan, who still looked like he wanted a place to hide. “Jim really deserves the credit on this,” she began. “Turns out he’s a wizard with computers.”
Rourke threw an unhappy eye at Morgan just to let him know that, wizard or not, he’d stepped in the same pile of shit that she had. Harry wondered if the eager young deputy saw his future in the detective division hanging on Vicky’s next words.
“Jim came up with the name of the person who signed out the cars that ended up in Darlene’s driveway,” she explained. “The records were altered so it looked like the sign outs were never recorded, but they were still in the hard drive and Jim was able to get them out.” She threw an admiring glance at Morgan. “I have no idea how.”
“The same person took both cars out?” Harry asked.
“You betcha,” Vicky said. “And hold on for this. It was one of the detectives working this case, Nick Benevuto.”
Rourke stared at her, then groaned out the words, “Oh, shit.”
Harry gave a small shake of his head, almost as if driving off some annoying insect. “When were the records altered?” he asked.
Vicky glanced at Morgan.
“The day the body was discovered,” he answered.
“Before or after the body was discovered?”
“After. It was done right after the end of shift,” Morgan said.
“So somebody changed the records the day after the murder and after the body was discovered,” Harry said, as he jotted the information in his notebook.
“That’s right.”
Rourke pulled a folder from his desk and opened it. “Benevuto was off duty the day Darlene was killed.”
Harry stared into space. “It doesn’t make sense,” he said at length.
“What doesn’t?” Rourke asked.
“Benevuto altering department records,” Harry said. “First, he couldn’t have known that we had a witness who took down one of our tag numbers until the second day after the murder, because that’s when we knew, that’s when our witness told Morgan that there was one plate number that he didn’t turn over to me. So what would prompt Nick to alter the records a day before there was even a hint that we might tumble to the fact that he’d been to Darlene’s apartment? Unless…”
“Unless he killed her and was covering up the fact that he knew her,” Vicky said.
Harry nodded slowly. “That’s right. And if he was the murderer why wait to cover it up until after the body was discovered? Why take the chance that someone would come across those records before he could change them?” Harry shook his head. “I just don’t see it. And I don’t see Nick as a realistic suspect.”
“Why not?” Vicky asked.
There was an edge to her voice that Harry picked up on. “Look, I can see Nick running into Darlene Beckett and deciding he wanted to try to get into her knickers. I can even see him taking the initiative and seeking her out for the same reason. Hell, there aren’t many women who Nick Benevuto would take a pass on and certainly not one as sexually appealing as Darlene.”
“But?” Vicky pressed.
“But while Nick may be many things, stupid isn’t one of them.”
“I’m not getting your drift,” Rourke said.
“My drift is simple, cap. Nick’s been a detective for a long time, and he’s pretty well known in the police community. Darlene was supposed to be on a short leash and she was being watched not only by the probation department, but by the prosecutor’s office and certainly by the media. If one prosecutor, one reporter, one anybody saw her with Nick, they’d be all over it.”
“Like flies on shit,” Rourke added.
“And Nick would know that. So I can’t see him getting heavily involved. A quick toss in the hay, sure, but nothing more. And for him to be the murderer, it would have to have been a lot more.”
“How so?” Vicky asked. The edge in her voice had become defensive now.
Harry softened his own voice. “If we’re thinking of Nick as a legitimate suspect, the only logical motive I can come up with is that he became seriously involved with Darlene; that he followed her from the Peek-a-Boo Lounge, caught her having it off with another guy, and killed them both in a jealous rage. And that just doesn’t make sense to me.” Vicky started to object but Harry raised a hand, stopping her. “I can see him altering records to hide the fact that he was seeing her, but I even have some trouble with that because of the time line.”
“So who altered the records?” Morgan asked. “Who else would have a reason to alter them?”
“Good question.” Harry shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense for anyone but Nick to have altered them. So we’ll ask him. One thing for sure, I don’t want him on the team anymore.”
“That’s a given,” Rourke said. “I’ll put him on restricted duty-duty unrelated to this case-until this computer records business is resolved. As of right now, the whole matter is in the hands of Internal Affairs.”
Harry winced. “I wish you’d hold off on IAD. I don’t need them climbing all over this investigation.”
“No can do, Harry,” Rourke said. “Whether you like it or not, IAD will be part of it until we know what happened to those records.”
Nick Benevuto looked more curious than concerned when he entered Pete Rourke’s office. Harry studied him closely, looking for a tell. As far as Harry could see, Nick had no idea what was coming.
Rourke laid it out slowly and deliberately, and with each sentence Benevuto’s face moved from mild embarrassment, to concern, to outright anger. But beneath it all Harry could detect fear as well.
“So I spent some time with her,” he said when Rourke finished. “Where’s the fucking crime?” He glared in turn at Rourke, Harry, Vicky, and Morgan. “It was purely business, and as far as anyone in this room is concerned, and for the record, I never laid a hand on her. If you’re looking at me as a suspect in her murder, you’re either desperate or you’re out of your fucking minds.” He turned his attention to Morgan and sneered. “And as far as your big theory goes that I altered department records, you listen up, junior. I wouldn’t know how to alter a fucking computer record. I know how to turn it on and type up a fucking report and that’s it. You don’t believe me, you ask my partner. We need anything done on a computer, he has to do it.”
“Just calm down, Nick,” Harry said. His voice was soft and steady.
“Calm down, shit, Harry! You know me. You think I killed her?”
Harry ignored the question. “How did you meet her?” he asked instead.
Nick studied his shoes for a moment. “I was interviewing a dancer at that club, the Peek-a-Boo Lounge. I thought she might have witnessed a murder when she was working in a joint in our jurisdiction. It was the Bruder case, Jeffrey Bruder. Happened late last January and this dancer disappeared right after I started my investigation. I finally caught up with her in early March. The case is still open. You can read my daily reports and cross check ’em in my notebook.”
“So where does Darlene Beckett come in?” Rourke asked.
Benevuto shook his head and let out a breath. “She was at the bar. I saw her and recognized her, and when I was finished with my witness I struck up a conversation.” He shook his head again. “Her case had just finished up in
