Detective (19 page)

Meanwhile, as the Year of Cynthia
progressed, some

154 Arthur Halley

aspects of Cynthia's nature began to
make Ainslie uncomfortable, at times
professionally uneasy. She would
periodically switch moods for no
discernible reason from
free-flowing, amorous warmth to
sudden and icy coldness. At such
moments Ainslie would wonder what
had happened between them, then
realize after several experiences
that nothing had; it was simply
Cynthia's way, a facet of her
character, more visible and frequent
as time went on.

But that mood shift was
manageable, the professional unease
less so.

Ainslie, throughout his police
career, had believed in ethical
behavior, even when dealing with
habitual criminals who disregarded
ethics totally. Sometimes minor
tradeoffs were acceptable in
exchange for information, but that
was Ainslie's limit. Some in police
work, though, held differing views
and would make illegal deals with
criminals, or lie when making
statements, or plant evidence when
there seemed no other way to get it.
But Ainslie would have no part of
such tactics, either for himself or
those who worked with him.

Cynthia apparently had no such
scruples.

As Cynthia's superior, Ainslie had
suspected that some of her
investigative successes might be
morally questionable. But nothing
came to his direct attention, and
his questions about her rumored
freewheeling methods produced strong
denials from Cynthia, and once
indignation. One matter did surface,
though, in a way he could not
overlook.

It concerned a con artist and
thief named Val Castellon, recently
released from prison on parole.
Cynthia was lead investigator in a
murder, and while Castellon was in
no way a suspect, it was believed he
might have information about another
ex-con who was. Brought in for
interrogation, Castellon denied any
such knowledge, and Ainslie was
inclined to believe him. Cynthia did
not.

DETECTIVE 155

In a subsequent private session
with Castellon, Cynthia threatened
to plant drugs on him if he failed
to testify for her, then have him
arrested, in which case his parole
would be revoked and he would go
back to prison, as well as face
stiff new charges. Planting drugs in
a suspect's pocket, then appearing
to discover them, was a simple tac-
tic for police and all too
frequently used.

Ainslie learned about Cynthia's
threat through Sergeant Hank
Brewmaster, who had been told of it
by one of his regular informants, a
crony of Castellon's. When Ainslie
asked Cynthia if the report was
true, she admitted it was, though
the drug plant had not yet been
done.

"And it won't be," he told her.
"I'm responsible, and I won't allow
it."

"Oh, bullshit, Malcolm!" Cynthia
said. "That prick will wind up back
in jail anyway. I'd just be sending
him there sooner."

"Don't you get it?" he asked
incredulously. "We're here to
enforce the law, which means we have
to obey it, too. "

"And you're being as stuffy as this
old pillow." Cynthia threw one at
him from the bed of a motel where
they had rented a room on a rainy
afternoon. At the same time she fell
back on the bed. She spread her legs
wide and asked, "Is what you want
legal? After all, we're both on
duty." She laughed quietly then,
knowing precisely what would happen
next.

Ainslie's face changed. He went to
her and threw his jacket and tie on
the bed. Cynthia said suddenly,
sharply, "Hurry, hurry! Slide your
lovely big illegal cock inside me!"

As he had at other times, Ainslie
felt powerless, melting into her,
and yet diffident, even embarrassed
by Cynthia's raunchy language. Yet
it was part of her sexual aggres

156 Arthur Halley

siveness, and each time made their
coupling more exciting. By then they
had abandoned the subject of Val
Castellon, which Ainslie intended to
bring up later, though he never did.
Nor did he learn how the missing
information in Cynthia's murder
inquiry was supplied, except that
she obtained it, resulting in one
more investigative triumph for
Cynthia and himself.

What Ainslie did make sure of was
that Castellon was not charged with
drug possession, and his parole was
not revoked. In one way or another,
it seemed, Ainslie's warning to
Cynthia had been heeded.

Something else bothered Ainslie.
Unlike most other police officers,
Cynthia seemed comfortable, even
happy, in the company of criminals,
mingling with them at bars in an
easy, friendly way. She and Ainslie
also differed in their attitudes to
lawbreaking. Ainslie viewed
crime-solving, particularly of
homicides, as moral high ground.
Cynthia didn't, and once told him,
"Face reality, Malcolm! It's a
contest, with crooks, police, and
lawyers elf competing. The winner
depends on how clever each lawyer is
and how rich the defendant is. Your
so-called moral issues don't stand
a chance in this game."

Ainslie was not impressed. Nor was
he happy to learn eventually that a
regular companion of Cynthia's at
bars and restaurants was Patrick
Jensen, a successful novelist and
Miami bon vivant, but with an
unsavory reputation, particularly
among police.

Jensen, a former TV newsman, had
written a succession of best-selling
crime novels, published worldwide,
and by the age of thirty-nine he had
amassed what was rumored to be
twelve million dollars. Some said
the success had gone to his head,
and Jensen had evolved into a rude
and

DETECTIVE 157

arrogant womanizer with a violent
temper. His second wife, Naomi, from
whom he was divorced, made several
spousal battery complaints to
police, then withdrew them before of
ficial action could begin. Several
times after their divorce, Jensen
tried to reconcile with Naomi, but
she would have no part of it.

Then Naomi Jensen was found
murdered, with a .38caliber bullet
through her throat. Beside her lay a
young musician, Kilburn Holmes, whom
she had been dating, killed by a
bullet from the same gun. According
to witnesses, earlier that day Naomi
and Jensen had had a bitter argument
outside Naomi's house, during which
she insisted he leave her alone and
told him she intended to remarry.

Patrick Jensen was an obvious
suspect, and inquiries by Miami
Homicide showed he had opportunity
and no alibi. A handkerchief near
the bodies matched others owned by
Jensen, though there was nothing on
the handkerchief to prove it was
his. However, a fragment of paper in
Holmes's hand did match another
fragment, found in Jensen's garbage.
Detectives then discovered that two
weeks before the murders Jensen had
purchased a Smith & Wesson
.38-caliber revolver, but he claimed
to have lost the gun, and no murder
weapon was found.

Despite intensive effort by
Sergeant Pablo Greene's Homicide
team, no other evidence was
obtained, and what little they had
was insufficient to take to a grand
jury.

Patrick Jensen knew it, too.

Detective Charlie Thurston, the
lead investigator, told Sergeants
Greene and Ainslie, "I went to that
arrogant dickhead Jensen today to
ask a few more questions, and the
fucker just laughed and told me to
beat it." Thurston, a seasoned
detective, normally mild-mannered
and patient, was still burning from
the encounter.

158 Arthur Halley

"The bastard knows we know he did
it," he went on, "and he's telling
us, 'So what, you'll never prove
it.' "

"Let him laugh now," Greene said.
"It may be our turn later."

But Thurston shook his head.
"Won't happen. He'll put it all in
a goddam book and make a pisspot
full of money."

To an extent Thurston was right.
Nothing more emerged to connect
Jensen with the murders of Naomi and
her friend Kilburn Holmes, and he
did write a new crime story in which
the homicide detectives were
incompetent buffoons. But the book
did not do well, nor did one more
which followed, and it appeared that
Patrick Jensen's bestseller days had
ended, as so often happens when
fresh young writers ascend into
literary orbit and older ones de-
cline. At the same time there were
rumors that, through bad
investments, Jensen had lost a major
part of his millions and was looking
around for other sources of income.
Another rumor was that Jensen and
Detective Cynthia Ernst had, for a
long time, been having an affair.

Ainslie dismissed the second
rumor. For one thing, he did not
believe Cynthia would be so foolish,
in view of Patrick Jensen's status
as a murder suspect. Second, he
found it inconceivable that she
could conduct two intense affairs at
the same time, particularly since
Cynthia's relationship with Ainslie
frequently left the two of them
drained.

Just the same, Ainslie did raise
Patrick Jensen's name with Cynthia,
trying to make the reference casual.
Cynthia, as usual, wasn't fooled.

"Are you jealous?" she asked.

"Of Patrick Jensen! That'll be the
day." He hesitated, then added, "Do
I have reason to be?"

"Patrick's nothing!" she asserted.
"It's you I want,

DETECTIVE 159

Malcolm and all of you. More of your
time, all of your time! I don't want
to share you, not with anyone." They
were in an unmarked police car,
Cynthia driving. The last few words
rang out like a command.

He was startled and asked, scarcely
thinking, "Are you saying we should
get married?"

"Malcolm, get free. Then I'll
consider."

The answer, he thought, was typical
Cynthia; in the past year he had
come to know her well. If he were
free, the probability was that she
would use him, squeeze him dry, and
then discard him. No permanence for
Cynthia; on that point she had made
herself quite clear.

So there it was. Ainslie had known
something like this was inevitable
and that a moment of decision had
arrived. He knew Cynthia would not
like what he would say next, and
knew too that her anger could erupt
like Vesuvius.

For a moment, postponing the
confrontation, he thought back again
to David and Bathsheba, the lovers
who married after Bathsheba's
husband Uriah was disposed of in
battle as King David prearranged.
But God according to the Bible was
personally upset by David's perfidy.

. . . the thing that David had done displeased the Lord

And the Lord sent Nathan unto David . . . And Nathan
said to David. . . Thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will
raise up evil against thee out of shine own house, and I
will take thy wives before shine eyes, and give them unto
thy neighbor, and he shall lie with thy wives. . .

Like so much else in the Bible, it
was as scholars saw it highly
implausible folk legend, told around
the campfires of semi-nomadic
Israelites, then two hundred years
later written down with a core of
reality, plus myths from ten
thousand retellings. But the extent
of truth and fiction

160 Arthur Halley

didn't matter; what did was that in
human relations there was nothing
new under the sun, but only
variations of old themes. One
variation now Ainslie wasn't going
to marry Cynthia and didn't want to
"get free" of Karen.

They had been driving on a quiet
suburban street. As if anticipating
what was to come, Cynthia pulled the
car to the curb and stopped.

She looked at him. "Well?"

Reaching out to take her hand, he
said gently, "My love, what's
happened between us has been
magical, wonderful. It's something
I never expected, and as long as I
live I'll be grateful. But I have to
tell you I can't go on, we have to
end it."

He had expected an outburst. But
it didn't happen. Instead she
laughed. "I presume you're joking."

"No," he answered firmly.

She sat silently for a few
moments, staring out of the
passenger window. Then, without
turning, she said with eerie calm,
"You'll regret this, Malcolm, I
promise regret it for the rest of
your miserable life.''

He sighed. "That may be true. I
guess I'll have to take that
chance."

Suddenly she looked at him with
tears on her cheeks and rage in her
eyes. Her fists were clenched and
shaking. "You bastard!" she
screamed.

From that point onward they saw
little of each other. One reason was
that Cynthia became a sergeant a few
days later. She had taken the
promotion exam a few weeks earlier
and placed third on a list of six
hundred.

Upon her promotion she was
transferred from Homicide to Sexual
Battery as a supervisor. She was put
in charge of a team of five
detectives investigating rapes,
attempted rapes, sexual harassment,
peeping toms; the coverage was wide,
and Cynthia became outstandingly
successful. As in

DETECTIVE 161

Homicide, she proved adept at
developing leads through a web of
contacts and informants. A
dedicated, natural leader, she
worked her team hard, as well as
herself, and early on made a notable
arrest that resulted in the sen-
tencing of a fifteen-count serial
rapist who, over two preceding
years, had terrorized women in the
city.

In part because of this and an
excellent rating in one more
promotion exam, Cynthia was made a
lieutenant two years later and moved
to a new department Community
Relations as second-in-command.
There she liaised with the public,
appeared at town meetings, lectured
community groups and sometimes other
police forces, and generally put
forward a convincingly positive
image of the Miami force.

All of this brought her to the
attention of Police Chief Farrell
Ketledge, and when Cynthia's
department head died unexpectedly,
the chief appointed her to take
over. At the same time, because of
the prominence and increasing
importance of Community Relations,
Chief Ketledge decided it should be
headed by a police major. Thus
Cynthia attained that senior rank
without ever having been a captain.