“Why don’t you start from the beginning? Mr. Gleason let the staff go early?”
“Yes. We came in this morning and he told us to go home, that he was closing the office due to Mr. Jones’s murder. Is this connected?” he asked.
“We don’t know yet,” Black responded. “Go on.”
“He was insistent, even when I told him I had meetings lined up and dozens of phone calls to return. He told me to work from home.
“I took my files and went home. I had a one o’clock lunch meeting at the Esquire, and after that walked back to the Capitol with the senator, we parted at the entrance, and I was going to return to my car, but I was worried about Craig. He hadn’t taken Mr. Jones’s murder well. I honestly didn’t think they were that close-that doesn’t sound good. I mean, everyone is upset about Mr. Jones, but no one really knew him. He came in once a week and that was it. He had his own clients, didn’t care anything about the rest. That was Craig’s domain. He managed ninety-five percent of the workload.”
“Can you give specific examples of why you think Mr. Gleason wasn’t handling the murder well?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know. He looked like he hadn’t slept last night. He had on one blue sock and one black sock. Craig is meticulous in his appearance. He wouldn’t make that mistake.”
Sonia concurred. “So you came back here. What time?”
“Just before three. Ten to three, five to three. I don’t know for sure, but when I walked past the bank on L Street the digital clock said two-fifty. I remember because I had two hours on the parking meter and that gave me ten minutes to get back to my car.”
“You don’t have a parking garage?”
“Sure, but the lot is on the opposite end of town from the Esquire, and I was running late. My wife-” he stopped and blushed. “Well, I’m not usually home during the day and the baby was napping.”
Sonia didn’t need to hear more. “So you noticed the time-”
“And considered not even going up. Parking tickets are like thirty bucks now, ridiculous, and I swear those traffic cops have a sensor that tells them when a meter is about to expire, because I always get nailed. But I thought about Craig, thinking maybe we’d go for drinks or something. Let him talk it out. Maybe he was worried about the clients, but except for Jones’s own clients, I don’t think anyone would have left. They all liked Craig.
“So I went up the stairs-the elevator is incredibly slow-and while I was in the stairwell I heard a gunshot. I ran up to the fourth floor and-”
“Excuse me for interrupting,” Black said, “but you ran toward a gunshot.”
“I thought Craig had … killed himself. I didn’t know why but he had all the signs of being depressed. I didn’t think murder until I walked in and saw the guy in the conference room.”
“How many minutes lapsed from the sound of the gunshot and when you saw the man?”
“One? No more than ninety seconds.”
“What was he doing in the conference room?”
“I have no idea. He saw me and pointed the gun at me and I ran out, came in here.”
“It was open?”
“Margie was here. She’s the secretary. She had called the police when she heard the gunshot and was still on the phone with them when I came in. I locked the door and put a chair up and told her to tell you guys to hurry. I thought he’d follow me, but he didn’t.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Chinese. Tall. Had a pockmarked face, like from teenage acne, though this guy was in his forties or older. Wore a dark gray suit. Looked expensive.”
“Had you ever seen him before?”
“Not recently, but last year he was here and had a meeting with Mr. Jones at Chops.”
“Just him and Jones?”
“No. Two of Jones’s clients were there as well, from Rio Diablo.”
“And you remembered him after a year?” Sonia asked.
“Sure. You don’t forget a face like that.”
Dean retrieved the photo he’d taken back from Charlie. “Do you recognize any men in this photograph?”
Mercer looked closely at the picture. “There’s Mr. Jones, of course.” He started to shake his head. “No … oh, yeah, I know him.”
His finger tapped on the face of Sonia’s father. She tensed.
“You know this man? From where?”
“It’s been a long time.” He closed his eyes and didn’t say anything for a minute.
Sonia was getting antsy, wanted to push him, but Dean put a hand on her knee and held a finger to his lips.
“Devereaux!” Mercer exclaimed.
“Devereaux?” Sonia repeated.
“Four years ago he was here.”
“In XCJ offices?”
“No, it was at the Hyatt. Dawson’s, the restaurant downstairs. My top client wanted a dinner meeting with Mr. Jones. Jones didn’t want to, but finally agreed so we went to Dawson’s. On our way out, Mr. Devereaux was coming in. He didn’t seem very friendly when Mr. Jones said hello, but he congratulated him.”
“On what?”
“I have no idea.”
“How’d you know his name?”
“The hostess came up and said, ‘Mr. Devereaux, we located the Scotch you requested. Your table is ready’”
“He was alone?”
“I think so.”
“And you remember that? A brief meeting years ago?” Sonia asked in disbelief.
“I have a good memory for names and faces, it’s part of my job, especially with the turnover we have in that building now after term limits.” He jerked his thumb behind him in the general direction of the Capitol building. “But I probably wouldn’t have remembered at all except that after Mr. Devereaux was seated in the far back of the restaurant, Mr. Jones asked the hostess what the Scotch was that he had ordered. Laphroaig. You just don’t forget Scotch whisky like Laphroaig. The man has good taste.”
The Hyatt Hotel was across the street from the Senator and John Black pulled together all the cops he could spare to cover every exit, then he, Dean, and Sonia went to the general manager and confirmed that a guest named Pierre Devereaux was currently registered and staying on the tenth floor.
“How many people are staying in the room?” Dean asked.
“Three.”
“Names?”
The manager looked on the screen. “Mr. Devereaux, his brother Tobias Devereaux, and Lee Chin. There’s a king bed in each of the adjoining bedrooms, plus a Murphy bed in the meeting room.”
“When did they check in?”
“Late check-in Tuesday night.”
“When are they scheduled to leave?”
“Sunday.”
“Please pull all security disks since Tuesday night,” Dean said, “and find out which housekeeping staff has cleaned the rooms. I want them all brought to a secure area, but I don’t want them talking to each other. And call each guest on that floor and tell them to stay inside their room until you call again. Understand?”
“Yes, Agent Hooper.”
Black spread the information around to his men. Dean pulled Sonia aside. “You can’t come upstairs. It could-” he didn’t finish.
“I know,” she said reluctantly. “We have to protect the integrity of the case. We’re close, Dean. Be careful.”
