“I’m sorry, but it is. I want you to know, though, that I’ll do what I can to keep this information from becoming public. I understand your position.”
“Her name is Chelsea Barton. She’s a set designer here.”
“I’ll have to speak with her.”
“Her office is the other side of the reception area, on this floor.”
Dino came back into the room.
“I think we’re about finished here,” Stone said. “Thank you, Ms. Morgan. I very much appreciate your cooperation.” Dino stepped back into the hall, and Stone followed, then stopped. He turned back to the woman. “Ms. Morgan, was Sasha seeing anyone else that you know of?”
Morgan flushed. “Yes, she was. A man. She would never tell me who, but I had the feeling it had been going on for a long time.”
“Do you think it might have been someone she worked with?”
“I honestly don’t know. Sasha didn’t give much away.”
“Thank you again.”
On their way down the hall, Stone filled Dino in on his conversation with Hank Morgan.
Dino whistled. “So Sasha swung both ways, huh? How about that?”
“There was nothing in her diary to indicate it,” Stone said.
“She had a lot to lose,” Dino replied. “She wouldn’t have written that down.”
They found the office of Chelsea Barton. A rather dumpy young woman looked up from her desk as they knocked.
Stone started to introduce himself.
“Yes,” Barton said, interrupting him. “I was with Hank Morgan. All night. Anything else?”
“Thank you,” Stone said, “no.”
Back in the car Dino turned to Stone. “So, if Morgan is in love with the gorgeous Sasha, what’s she doing in the sack with Miss Beanbag the very next night?”
“That crossed my mind,” Stone said.
“I think Morgan looks good for it. Pansies are always bashing each other’s heads in with hammers, and all for love.”
“Lesbians don’t fit that mold.”
“Still, you see the build on that bitch? Sasha was little, compared to her. I think Morgan could have tossed her, no problem.”
“I think so, too. But how are you going to break that alibi? Miss Beanbag looked pretty tough to me.”
“She was on the interview list, so we’ve got her address. I think I’ll do a little checking into her whereabouts that night,” Dino said. “Maybe I can place her somewhere else.”
“You do that, and we might have something for Deputy Commissioner Waldron.”
Chapter 20
The phone was ringing as Stone reached his desk. He picked it up. “Hello.”
“Detective Barrington?” a husky voice said.
“Yes, speaking.”
“This is Hank Morgan.”
“Yes, Ms. Morgan. Did you think of something else?”
“I… I lied to you, I’m afraid.”
“How so?”
“I was at home alone the night Sasha fell. Chelsea wasn’t with me. She said that to protect me, but I realize this is serious, and I don’t want to involve her. I hope you’ll for get that I didn’t tell you the truth the first time; I’m telling you the truth now.”
“All right, we’ll forget your first statement and leave Chelsea out of it.”
“Thank you.”
“What time did you get home that night?”
“I worked on the evening news, so it would have been about eight thirty.”
“Did anyone see you? The doorman, maybe?”
“I live in a walk-up in the West Village. There’s no doorman.”
“Anybody else? A neighbor?”
“No. There are only two apartments in the building, and my downstairs neighbor was on vacation.”
“Did you go out again for any reason?”
“No. I read until about eleven, then I went to sleep.”
“I see. Ms. Morgan, I’d like you to come up to the Nineteenth Precinct to be fingerprinted. It might help us eliminate you as a suspect.”
She paused for a long time. “I don’t think I want to do that,” she said. “I’ve already talked to a lawyer, and he advised me not to cooperate any further than this.”
“That’s your right,” Stone said. “But I have to tell you that the Supreme Court doesn’t consider being fingerprinted to be self-incriminating. We may have to insist.”
“I suppose that’s your right,” she replied. “But I haven’t done anything wrong, and you don’t have any real reason to suspect me. So I won’t be having anything else to say.”
“I’m sorry you’ve decided to do it this way, Ms. Morgan.”
“Good afternoon, Detective Barrington.” She hung up.
Stone told Dino about their conversation.
“Bingo!” Dino cried. “Let’s go see Leary.”
“Wait a minute,” Stone said. “I just remembered something.” He went to the evidence room, dug out Sasha Nijinsky’s financial records, and began leafing through her checkbook.
“What are you looking for?” Dino asked.
“I remember some checks Sasha wrote. Here! One… two… three of them, all made out to Henrietta Morgan! The name meant nothing to me at the time.” He totted up the amounts in his head. “Total of twenty thousand dollars over eight weeks, listed as loans. You know what this smells like, Dino?”
“Blackmail!” Dino yelled. “Miss Hank says, ‘Pay me, Sasha, or I’ll tell all!’ Let’s go see Leary!”
Leary beamed at them. “I knew good police work was going to break this case.” He chortled. “Pick her up right now.” He reached for the phone. “I’ll call Delgado; he’ll call Waldron.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lieutenant,” Stone said, “not yet, anyway. Let’s get her up here and hear her story first.”
“Get your asses out of here and bring in the dyke!” Leary said, dialing.
“This is insane!” Hank Morgan said, interrupting Stone in his reading of her rights. “You aren’t handcuffing me!”
“If you can’t afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you,” Stone concluded. “I’m sorry about the cuffs; it’s department policy.” He took her raincoat from a hook on the wall and placed it over her shoulders. “Don’t worry, no one here will see them.”
“Let’s go, lady,” Dino said.
“I want to call my lawyer,” she said shakily.
“You can call her from the precinct,” Dino said. “Let’s go.”
Stunned into silence, Hank Morgan accompanied the two detectives out of the building and into their car.
“Is there anything you want to tell us before we get to the station?” Stone asked her.
Morgan shook her head. “I want my lawyer,” she said.
