“So what do you want from me?” I say, taking a sip of coffee. “You got my statement, right?”
“Yes,” says Jay. “We got your statement. We got your statement and all the other statements.”
At that moment, Angelo Marino bursts into the room, making the office just a little more crowded. He seems out of sorts. His eyes are popping out of his head with tension, but he smooths down his suit jacket and slicks back his hair before speaking. “You don’t have to answer any of their questions.”
The detectives look at him, gritting their teeth, and then look back at me.
“Look,” says Jay. “We know you went to the Coney Island Aquarium last night. There was an explosion and a lot of jellyfish were killed. We want to know why you were there and what happened.”
“Are you charging me with a crime?” I ask. I look over at Angelo Marino. He shakes his head slightly. Don’t answer them, he is saying.
“Not exactly,” says Jay. “We don’t think you had anything to do with the destruction of the property there, which major crimes wants to call a terrorist attack. But you are a witness, and you are certainly guilty of trespassing.”
“Someone is trying to kill my whole family,” I say. “I was there because I was playing this game, which is what you told me to do. Should I stop playing? Are you willing to put us all under police protection?”
Rutledge snorts, laughing.
“We still aren’t sure your brother was murdered,” says Jay. “We have no evidence of that. So you just go ahead and slow down a little bit, okay? Slow down and let the professionals handle the crimes.”
“And why don’t you tell us real slowly how everything went down at the aquarium?” says Rutledge. “We want to help you. We are on your side. But we need to have something to tell the counterterrorism people, or they are going to want us to freeze your accounts and go public with what is happening. Is the Nylo Corporation declaring war on fish?”
“Look,” I say, shooting down an anguished look from Angelo Marino. “I was there. I was playing this game. The clue yesterday led us to the aquarium. When we got there and held our phones up to the jellyfish tank, it exploded. I think if one of us had been out of lives, it would have killed us. You need to figure out how the bomb worked. Dust everything for prints. It’s an aquarium! Surely there are fingerprints on glass somewhere.”
“All the evidence has been sent to the lab,” says Rutledge. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.”
“And so what the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime?” I ask, slamming down my iced coffee in frustration.
Rutledge and Jay look at each other.
“Well, that’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Jay says. “We intend to be with you today when the Game Master calls. We’re going to try and get him to talk.”
“It could be a her,” I point out, sounding like Olivia.
“That is statistically quite unlikely,” says Jay. “Anyway, we want you to know that we’re taking this whole situation very seriously. We’re glad to see that you have hired your own security. We suggest you don’t go anywhere without them. The next time you run off to solve one of these clues you should let us know where you’re headed so we can stake the place out and make sure you won’t be in any danger. Can you do that for us?”
“Certainly,” I say, feeling somewhat mollified. “So, you two are just going to hang out here all morning until the Game Master calls?”
“We’d like permission to question some of the people who work here, if they would be willing to cooperate,” says Detective Rutledge. “Obviously, they have the right to refuse. But we think it would be helpful if everyone cooperates, as long as we are here.”
“I think you’ll find everyone at Nylo is very willing to cooperate with your investigation,” says Angelo Marino. “As long as I am allowed to be in the room with you and help protect the employees here from any violations of their civil liberties or from accidentally saying something they don’t mean. You know how cops can twist words when they don’t want to work very hard to crack a case.” He offers his most polite sneer.
Detectives Jay and Rutledge both smile back.
“Of course,” says Detective Jay. “You have a business to run here, after all.”
“Remind me again why the two of you are the ones assigned to this case?” I ask. “Aren’t you Midtown tunnel cops?”
“Detectives,” says Jay. “Midtown Underground Tunnel Detectives. That’s the precinct where the body is at, I’m afraid. Can’t be helped. Tunnels and elevators, that’s our beat.”
“Right,” I say. “Tunnels and elevators.”
I stand up and motion to the door. The two detectives slink out. Angelo Marino hangs back a moment, looking at me pensively.
“I feel like we should call some different police,” I say. “Can’t we get a second opinion?”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that,” he says.
“Isn’t this the sort of thing that you elevate to the FBI? We are public figures. Tunnel and elevator cops aren’t going to solve this thing.”
“I’ll see what I can do about elevating the profile of this case,” says Angelo Marino. “However, there is also the company to think about. Do we really want to have the federal government and the media involved? They will certainly use this as an opportunity to audit us and check into all of our business dealings. I’m sure the State Department will be interested in Henley’s time in China, and the FTC will be interested in your latest acquisition. Are you sure we shouldn’t just handle this ourselves if we can?”
I don’t really have an answer for him. He leaves, following the detectives, ready to serve as
