New York Dead (17 page)

“So, I could just quit the force and live on my looks?”

She laughed. “If it were up to me, you could. Does the practice of law repel you so much?”

“Look, I’m thirty-eight years old. I can’t just get in line at the big firms with this year’s grads and expect to get taken on. ‘So, Mr. Barrington, what have you been doing with yourself in the fifteen years between getting your law degree and passing the bar?’ ‘Oh, I’ve been arresting drug dealers and investigating
murders and other sordid crimes.’ ‘Wonderful, that experience will stand you in good stead in our estate planning department. Will a hundred thousand a year be enough?’”

She laughed again. “There are other facets of the law besides estate planning, you know.”

“Sure there are. You know which ones I’d be qualified for? I’ll tell you; I’d be qualified to hang around the criminal courts picking up burglary defenses, drug busts, and drunk driving cases. That’s what ex-cops who are lawyers do—they go to night school, get a law degree, and, when they retire, they pick up an extra income by leaning on their old buddies on the force and in the DA’s office to go easy on the scum they’re defending.”

“You underestimate yourself,” she said. “Still, that’s an endearing quality in a world where overconfidence is a way of life.”

“Let’s order,” Stone said, picking up a menu.

“I think I’d like you for dinner,” Cary said.

“Let’s start with a Caesar salad, and go on to the osso buco,” he said. “Then we can have each other for dessert.”

“I always have room for dessert,” she said.

And she did. Stone lay panting in the darkness when she had finished—spent, but still full of desire for her. He had never felt anything quite like it. He was in love with her, but he had been in love before. It was obsession, and that was foreign to him.

She wrapped herself around him. “That was delicious,” she breathed, kissing him behind the ear. “I’ll want more soon.”

“You’ll kill me,” he panted, “but I can deny you nothing.”

“Don’t even try,” she said.

Chapter

24

T
he meeting took place in the district attorney’s private conference room, but the DA himself didn’t attend. Al Hagler, the chief prosecutor, sat at the end of the table.

Stone had the distinct feeling that this room had not been chosen just because it was available; Hagler believed in effect, and the venue added authority to his position. It was just as significant that the DA was not present, though his presence was felt. The proceedings, whatever they were, had his tacit support, but, this way, he could not be personally tainted by the outcome. It was interesting, too, that Deputy Commissioner Waldron was not in attendance, nor was Chief of Detectives Delgado. It was just Hagler, Leary, Dino, and Stone.

“What have you most recently uncovered?” Hagler asked the room at large.

Leary nodded at Dino.

“There is no promissory note in Nijinsky’s files, although they seem complete in every other respect,” Dino said. “And Morgan has no gun permit, nor has she ever applied for one.”

“Good,” Hagler said, looking pleased.

“Why good?” Stone asked. “Just because there is no note in Nijinsky’s files doesn’t mean it never existed, and what does Morgan’s owning a pistol have to do with anything? Nijinsky wasn’t shot.”

“How do you know that?” Leary asked.

“I saw her,” Stone replied. “I didn’t see a bullet wound.”

“She was covered in dirt, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“And how long did you see her for?”

“A few seconds.”

“Hardly time for a postmortem,” Hagler chimed in.

“I heard no gunshot either,” Stone said.

“Whether Nijinsky was shot is not relevant to this meeting,” Hagler said.

“Just what is the purpose of this meeting?” Stone asked.

“I just wanted to hear from you and Detective Bacchetti before proceeding.”

“Proceeding with what?”

Hagler reached into an inside pocket and tossed a document onto the table.

Stone picked it up. “A search warrant for Morgan’s apartment? What are we supposed to look for?”

“Anything that might relate to the Nijinsky case,” Hagler said.

“On what basis did you get the warrant?” Stone persisted.

“The basis don’t matter to you,” Leary spoke up. “You
just execute the warrant, you and Dino, right?”

Stone shrugged. “Yes, sir.”

“Detective Barrington has a physical at ten o’clock,” Dino said.

Stone looked at him, surprised. “I can postpone,” he said.

“No, no, that’s important,” Leary said. “You go on and get examined so we can get you restored to full duty.” He turned to Dino. “You pick up a uniformed team and conduct the search.”

“I’ll send an assistant DA with you,” Hagler said. “I’d like one of my people on the spot.”

“We won’t need you further, Barrington,” Leary said, looking at his watch. “You go see the doctor.”

Stone looked around the table. Everyone seemed to be avoiding his gaze. “All right,” he said, standing up. “I’ll see you back at the precinct, Dino.”

Dino nodded without looking at him.

Stone took his leave feeling shunned, shut out. What was going on?

The doctor took his time getting around to the knee. “Strip down to your shorts,” he said. He took Stone’s blood pressure, listened to his heart and lungs, looked into his ears, eyes, and mouth, checked his vision and hearing, and a nurse took blood and urine samples. Only then did the doctor turn his attention to the knee. “Swelling seems to be gone,” he said, feeling the joint in a gingerly fashion.

“I hardly notice it anymore,” Stone replied, not quite truthfully.

“Stand up and give me five half knee bends,” the doctor said.

Stone complied, clenching his jaw against possible pain. The exercise went well.

“Now give me five deep knee bends.”

This was harder, but Stone managed it. The knee was hurting a little now.

“Now give me five half knee bends on the left leg.”

This seemed extreme to Stone, but, again, he managed. Now the knee hurt like hell.

“Get dressed,” the doctor said.

“What do you think?” Stone asked, pulling on his trousers.

“You’ve healed nicely.”

“So, I’m restored to duty?”

“Oh, I expect so, but that’s not my decision, of course. I’ll just make my report; you’ll hear from your commander.”

“How long?”

“He’ll have my report by the first of the week.”

“So long?”

“I’ll dictate it today; getting it typed is the problem. We’ve taken some staff cuts this year.”

Stone got dressed and called the precinct. Dino wasn’t back yet. He went down to the street and hailed a cab. When he arrived at Hank Morgan’s building, Dino’s unmarked car and a squad car were still outside, and the downstairs door was propped open. Stone ran up the stairs.

The niceties had not been observed. The search warrant was taped to the door, which had been opened with a sledgehammer; the jamb was splintered, and the apartment was a mess. Stone walked through the disarrayed living room and followed the sound of voices to a beautifully designed kitchen. Dino, the assistant DA, and two uniforms sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. Knives, silverware, and
kitchen implements were scattered around the floor.

“Hey, Stone!” Dino called. “You want some coffee?”

“No thanks. You really tore up this place, didn’t you?”

“And look what we found!” Dino crowed, dangling a pistol from his finger by the trigger guard. “Three fifty-seven Magnum, and loaded, too.”

“What else?”

“No copy of a promissory note.”

“So?”

“And I’ll bet she won’t be able to come up with it when it counts.”

“You all finished here, then?”

“Just about. We’ll finish our coffee.”

There was a noise from the living room, and Stone turned to see Hank Morgan standing in the doorway, the search warrant in her hand.

“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded, her voice shaking with anger.

“A legal and proper search,” Dino said, standing up. “You got the warrant right there.”

Morgan turned to Stone, as if she expected she might be able to reason with him. “Just what are you looking for, for Christ’s sake?”

Stone shook his head. “I just got here myself, Ms. Morgan, but, I assure you, the search is legal and proper. I’m sorry about the mess.”

“So, Officers,” she said with withering contempt, “did you find anything? A joint, maybe? Or did you plant some cocaine?”

“We don’t plant stuff in searches,” Dino said, “but we did find this.” He held up the pistol.

“That’s mine,” she said.

“And do you have a permit for it?”

She started to speak, then stopped herself. “I want to call my lawyer,” she said.

“You can do that at the precinct,” Dino said. He walked over and handed her another warrant. “Right now, you are under arrest for the possession of a firearm without a permit.” He began to read her her rights.

Morgan turned to Stone again. “This can’t be happening,” she said, as if she expected him to make everything all right.

“I’m sorry, but it is happening,” Stone replied. He lowered his voice. “And I’d advise you not to say anything further until you’ve seen your lawyer.”

Downstairs, Stone watched as the patrolmen bundled Morgan, now handcuffed, into the squad car.

“You coming back to the precinct?” Dino asked, his hand on the car’s door handle.

“Not right now,” Stone said.

“How’d the physical go?”

“Okay, I think. He said I’m okay.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Dino, where’d you get the arrest warrant for the weapons charge?”

“Hagler had that, too. He came up with it right after you left.”

Stone nodded.

Dino got into the unmarked car and drove away.

Stone walked briskly down the street to the corner drugstore and found a phone. He got the number from information, and, when he told the secretary who he was, she immediately put him through.

“Hello, Detective Barrington?”

“Mr. Palmer, Hank Morgan has been arrested on a weapons charge. If I were you, I’d get up to the precinct without delay.”

There was a stunned silence from Palmer’s end of the line.

“Good-bye,” Stone said.

“Thank you, Detective,” Palmer managed to sputter before Stone hung up.

Stone walked slowly up Sixth Avenue, not looking for a cab yet. He felt something of the traitor, but he had wanted to do something to redress the balance. He was in no hurry to get to the precinct. He didn’t want to be involved in what was going to happen there.

Chapter

25

I
n spite of his lengthy walk, Stone got to the precinct before Morgan’s lawyer did. Dino’s desk was empty.

“Dino’s got the dyke in interrogation room three,” a detective at a nearby desk told Stone.

Three had a two-way mirror. Stone walked hurriedly down the hall and let himself quietly into the adjacent viewing room, which was empty. He sat down on a folding chair and took in the scene next door. Morgan was seated at the steel table facing the mirror, with Dino and the ADA on either side of her. She sat rigidly in the uncomfortable chair, gripping the arms. Her knuckles were white. Tears streamed down her face. A tape recorder was on the table.

Stone looked at his watch. She would have been in the interrogation room for nearly an hour. Where was Palmer?

“I want my lawyer,” Morgan sobbed.

“You already had your lawyer,” Dino replied, “and now you’re going to talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Morgan said adamantly, her voice quavering.

Stone could tell she was near breaking. Anything could happen now.

“We’ve got you cold on the weapons possession charge,” Dino said. “That’s five to ten, and you won’t get sent to a country club. You’ll be in there with all the other bull dykes—the muscle freaks, the murderers.”

“I have nothing to say,” Morgan nearly screamed.

“Let’s put the weapons thing aside for the moment,” Dino said, his voice kinder. “Let’s talk about Sasha.”

“I don’t want to talk about Sasha,” Morgan said. Her head sagged forward until her chin touched her chest. “I don’t want to talk about anything.”

Dino leaned forward and lowered his voice.

Stone strained to hear him over the speaker.

“Look, nobody’s saying you murdered Sasha; I know you loved her, and you wouldn’t hurt her on purpose. It was an accident, I know that. You just had a little tussle, and Sasha fell, that’s all. You must have felt terrible.”

To Stone’s astonishment, Morgan nodded slowly. Her face was shiny with tears, and she made no effort to wipe them away.

“That’s it,” Dino said soothingly, “let it all come out; you’re going to feel a lot better when you tell me about it.”

Morgan continued to nod but said nothing.

“Look, Hank, tell me about it, and I guarantee you won’t do any time. You had a tussle, and Sasha fell; no judge is going to send you to prison.”

At the word
prison,
Morgan’s body jerked convulsively. “I don’t want to go to prison,” she said.

Stone stared at her. The woman was starting to come apart; in another minute she would plead to the Kennedy
assassination, if Dino wanted her to.

“I won’t let them send you to prison,” Dino said, “if you’ll just tell me the truth, tell me what happened. It was Sasha’s fault, wasn’t it?”

Morgan broke down now. The sobbing shook her body, and she made a terrible keening noise. She grabbed hold of Dino’s forearm. “I’ll say anything you want,” she wailed, “just don’t send me to prison.”

“All right,” Dino said, “I’m going to tell you what it was like, and we’re going to write it down.” He handed her a pen and shoved a legal pad in front of her.

Stone began to feel ill. He wanted to pick up a chair and throw it through the mirror. Then the door to the interrogation room opened, and Lieutenant Leary walked in, accompanied by Carlton Palmer.