already spotted him. He heard you call the police and realized he was trapped.'
'That's the way I see it,' Darby said. 'Has Jonathan Hale hired anyone to look into his daughter's death?'
'Not to my knowledge. You don't think this man you met is working for Hale, do you?'
'I'm trying to find a reason as to what he was doing here.'
'If this man is, in fact, working for Hale, why didn't he tell you? Why go through all this drama and subterfuge?'
'That's a good question,' Darby said. 'Either he's working for Hale or he's working independently for reasons we don't understand.'
'How are you doing?'
'I'm fine.'
'You look a little shaky.'
'I'm coming off the adrenaline high. I'm going to get to work.'
'Hold on.' Bryson eased the closet door shut. 'I think we got off on the wrong foot back at the morgue.'
'Forget about it.'
'No, I want to clear the air.' Bryson scratched his chin. 'Look, I was a bit of an asshole. Am I pissed about how this whole thing went down? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. But what you said about me wanting the credit, that's bullshit. I'm not looking for the limelight. The press is up my ass, putting my name and picture in the papers. I can't control that. If you can help me find this guy, that's all that matters.'
'Good, then we're on the same page.'
'You said Hale has a personal assistant.'
'Marsh did. He said the woman's name is Abigail. I'll get the number.'
'I can do it.'
'Actually, I want to go and take a look at the security system.'
Bryson opened the door. 'Nice work on the necklace,' he said.
The master bedroom held modern-type bureaus and a beautiful canape bed. Like the spare bedroom, the floor-to-ceiling window overlooked Arlington Street and part of the Public Garden. Darby imagined what it might have felt like to go to bed every night with this stunning view of the city. She wondered if Emma Hale took the time to appreciate the view and her good fortune. Like many rich kids, the young woman probably took it for granted.
Darby knew she harboured a grudge against the rich. The truth was she didn't know Emma Hale. Maybe the young woman did appreciate her good fortune. Darby suspected her anger had something to do with a comment the intruder made about her mother being a coupon-clipping housewife. After Big Red died, Sheila McCormick worked double shifts at her nursing job and managed not only to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table, but had saved every extra penny to help Darby pay her way through college.
Coop stood in the hallway, working a wad of chewing gum between his front teeth while someone from ID photographed the handgun, a Beretta.
'The serial number is still on it,' Coop said to her. 'Hopefully the trace will lead somewhere good. You happen to check out the ammo?'
'No.'
'Armour piercing,' Coop said. 'You're lucky the son of a bitch didn't try and shoot.'
'I need to go downstairs. When I come back, I want to process the closet first. Then I want to check the CSU inventory list to see if our boy took anything else besides the necklace.'
'I'll come with you.'
Darby saw the look of concern in Coop's eyes. She had an idea what was coming.
Coop waited until they were alone in the hallway.
'I'm staying with you tonight,' he said. 'Please, no arguments.'
'I'll be fine.' Darby pressed the elevator button. 'There's no reason for you to -'
'Look, Wonder Woman, why don't you hang up the cape and give it a rest, okay?'
'Wonder Woman doesn't wear a cape. Besides, I'm sure you'd like to get back to Row-day-oh. Maybe you can sleep in and then watch another one of those uplifting cowboy-in-love movies.'
Coop blew a bubble, popped it.
'I know men look at you as some, I don't know, some wonderfully delicate, fragile bird that needs protection,' he said. 'I don't look at you that way. I've worked out with you. I've seen you spar in the boxing ring and work the speed bag. Half of them don't know you could kick their ass sideways over the course of a weekend and not break a sweat. I'm not debating your superhero status. I want to stay over because I'll sleep better knowing you're safe.'
Once again, Coop had managed to scale her protective walls and see into her true feelings. She was glad he made the offer. She didn't want to be alone.
'This is the part where you graciously thank me,' Coop said.
'I don't have an extra bed.'
'But you do have a queen-size bed.'
'Forget it.'
'I was going to suggest you take the couch. Why are you always thinking about sex? It's very disturbing.'
15
Jimmy Marsh was seated behind the front desk, giving his statement to Tim Bryson's partner, Detective Cliff Watts.
Darby looked to the monitors set up behind the desk. 'Tell me about the security cameras,' she said.
'The two above the front door cover the door and the street,' Marsh said. 'There's another camera for the delivery area, and the other two watch the garage – one for the garage door, the other for the parking lot. We see everyone who comes and goes inside this building.'
'But you don't have a security camera on the alley.'
'No. I know where you're heading. This person you met, whoever he is, he might have left by the fire escape but he couldn't have gained access that way. You can't stand on top of the dumpster and reach the ladder. It's too high.'
'Let me ask you this. If you wanted to get inside the building without being seen, how would you go about doing it?'
'You can't.'
'How do you gain access to the parking garage?'
'You need a garage door opener.'
'So if I had one and drove up to the door, I could open it.'
'Well, yeah, in theory,' Marsh said.
'And if I have a garage door opener and entered the garage, you wouldn't see me.'
'No, but I'd see your car on the monitor.'
'Do you know the make and model of every car?'
'You have to register your car at the front desk.'
'Do you know the make and model of every car?'
'I've got a pretty good idea. Twenty-two people live inside the building. About half of them have cars.'
Darby looked at the security monitor aimed at the garage door. 'That camera is pointed at a passenger's side window,' she said. 'If a car pulled up to the garage, you wouldn't be able to see who is behind the wheel.'
Marsh didn't answer.
Darby turned to him. The man was staring at the monitor, rubbing his tongue over his teeth.
'Mr Marsh?'
'You're right,' he said. 'I couldn't see who was behind the wheel.'
'Can you hear the garage door open?'
'I watch those monitors very carefully, Miss McCormick.'
