Waldron spoke up. “I’m inclined to agree with Detective Barrington,” he said to Delgado. “If this case isn’t solved, we can share the, uh… credit.” He turned back to Stone and Dino. “Detectives,” he said seriously, “I think you’ve done a first-class job on this, and I want you to know you have my support. Is there anything you need for your investigation? Anything at all? Just name it.”
“We need a break,” Dino said.
Chapter 19
Dino snatched a file off his desk. “Let’s get out of here,” he said to Stone.
Stone waited until they were in the squad car before speaking. “What do you think?”
“I think we’re in the shit,” Dino said.
“I don’t know; Waldron seemed to be on our side. Said we’d done a first-class job, remember?”
“You trust Waldron?” Dino asked incredulously. “You’re so fucking naive sometimes, Stone.”
“Look, among the deputy commissioners, Waldron is the best of a bad lot. I mean, we could have drawn that guy who was in advertising before the mayor made him a DC.”
“Waldron’s a politician, and that makes him dangerous. And I can tell you Delgado is not happy with us for being involved in something that gets Waldron’s attention – plus, he blames us for the FBI.”
“Come on, Dino, how can he blame us for that? We’re lucky we got this far in our investigation without the feds stepping in. Delgado knows that.”
“Delgado’s Italian, like me,” Dino said. “When there’s bad news, Italians shoot the messenger, remember? Right now, ‘Messenger’ is tattooed right across your forehead and mine, buddy.”
Stone shook his head. “I think you’re overreacting. If we’d made some huge blunder in the investigation, then I think we really would be in trouble, but we haven’t done that; we’ve run it by the book – well, mostly by the book – and we’ve covered all the bases.”
“Well, we haven’t covered our asses,” Dino said. “The only way we can do that is by making a bust.”
“By the way,” Stone said, “where are we going?”
“To the network,” Dino said, handing him the manila file. “Out of all the interview reports, this is the only one that looked worth doing again.”
“Hank Morgan,” Stone read from the file. “Makeup artist.”
“Look down at the bottom of the sheet.”
Stone read the last line. “Subject was nervous, wary, and gave only the briefest answers to questions, without elaboration.” Most innocent people, Stone knew, tended to blabber to the cops when questioned, not clam up. There were those who didn’t like cops, who were short with them, but this was interesting. “Did you call to say we were coming?” Stone asked.
“Nope,” Dino replied.
“Good.”
Hank Morgan was casually but elegantly dressed: Italian loafers, brown tweed trousers, a striped silk dress shirt open at the throat, a green cashmere sweater draped over the shoulders, the arms hanging loose. The hair was carefully barbered, the skin tan, the teeth white and even. A handsome character, Stone thought. And a woman, though just barely.
“I’ll be the bad cop,” Dino said through his teeth, as Morgan led them down the hall. “I hate dykes.”
Morgan led them into a room lit by rows of small bulbs around a large mirror. A barber’s chair was the only furniture.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, her eyes blinking rapidly.
“We’re investigating the Sasha Nijinsky matter,” Stone said. “We’d like to ask you some questions.”
“I’ve already talked to two policemen,” Morgan said combatively. “I don’t feel much like talking anymore.”
Dino was on her like a tiger. “Well, we didn’t like your answers,
“Dino…,” Stone began.
“This is an investigation into the disappearance, maybe the death of a human being that you knew and worked with, and we intend to find out what you knew about it,” Dino continued, unabated. “We can do it up at the precinct, if you like.”
Morgan appeared to wither under this barrage.
Stone tugged at an earlobe.
Dino caught the signal. “Where’s the men’s room?” he said to Morgan.
“Down the hall to your left,” she replied.
“I thought you’d know,” Dino shot back as he left the room.
When he had gone, Stone closed the door. “I’d like to apologize for my partner’s conduct,” he said to her gently. “He’s under a lot of pressure on this case – we both are – and he sometimes gets a little worked up.”
Morgan looked relieved. “I understand,” she said. “It’s been a strain on me, too.”
Has it? Stone wondered. “I take it you knew Sasha quite well,” he said. He had no reason to suppose that; it was a shot in the dark.
Morgan nodded, but did not speak.
“Did…” Stone stopped. Another stab. “Were you in love with her?” he asked softly.
Morgan nodded again, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” Stone said. “I know how hard all this must have been for you.” Yet another stab. “Was Sasha in love with you?”
Morgan wiped a cheek and looked directly at him. “Yes,” she said firmly.
“Did she tell you so?”
“She showed me,” Morgan replied.
“How long had the two of you been… seeing each other?”
“A couple of months,” Morgan said, drying another tear. She was composing herself now.
“And when was the last time you saw Sasha?”
“The night before she… disappeared.” She was calm now, and ready to talk.
“Where did you see her?”
“At my apartment. We always met there.”
“Did she stay the night?”
“Most of it. Sasha always left around four. She couldn’t be seen…”
“I understand.”
“Ms. Morgan, do you think Sasha might have been inclined to try to take her own life?”
“I… I don’t know. She was up and down a lot. She’d have these highs, when nothing could get her down; then she’d sink into these depressions. They never lasted long, but they were intense. She could be difficult to be with during those times. Maybe, in the depths of one of those, she might have… impulsively… done something. I just don’t know.”
“Would you characterize these mood swings as manic-depressive?”
“I’m not sure. From what I know about that condition, people who have it are unable to function when they’re depressed. Sasha could
Stone looked Hank Morgan up and down. She was five nine or ten, a hundred and forty-five, with an athletic, even muscular build. She looked as though she worked out regularly. “Ms. Morgan,” he asked, “where were you after midnight the night Sasha fell?”
“I was at home in bed,” she replied firmly.
“Were you alone?”
Now Morgan looked away. “No.”
“I think I’d better have the name of that person,” Stone said.
“Is it absolutely necessary?”
