The 19th Christmas - James Patterson Page 0,55

him. Maybe he couldn’t use a phone.

And then, this morning, she’d seen the TV report about the man’s body being pulled from a car trunk. She’d called the hotline that was on the screen and was transferred to the ME; she’d ID’d Lambert from his morgue shot.

Cheryl’s story seemed logical. She was understandably distraught and jittery. I suspected she was coming down off a drug high.

“I never, ever, ever expected this,” she told us.

I asked, “When you last saw Julian, how did he seem to you?”

“Excited.”

“Excited about what?”

“Christmas was coming and…” She shook her head, wrapped her arms around herself, and cried. “He was the sweetest boy. Ever.”

Conklin handed Cheryl a box of tissues and said, “Can I see you for a minute, Sergeant?”

I left the room with Conklin, and we took up a position on the other side of the mirrored observation window. The young woman had put her head on the table and seemed to be sobbing.

“What’s your BS meter saying?” he asked.

“Too soon to tell,” I said. “What do you think?”

“If it’s an act, it’s a good one. I’ll get her some tea.”

“When you come back, why don’t you take over?”

Conklin has a way with women. In fact, he’s famous for it. I went back into Interview 1 and told the young woman that Inspector Conklin would be right back.

She said, “How can Jules be dead? How did this happen?”

I said, “Let’s try to figure it out.”

Conklin hip-bumped the door and came in with tea for three in paper containers. He found a clean ashtray for the tea bags, set down a dish of sweeteners, and took his seat across from Cheryl.

He said, “Sorry to have to ask you personal questions, but you may be the only person who can help us.”

She nodded. Wiped her eyes. “I want to help.”

Conklin asked, “How long have you known Julian?”

“We’ve been together about three months, but I’ve known him for a year or so. We hung out at the same bar. Had some bar talk, you know. Flirting.”

Conklin said, “Did he seem worried about anything or anybody? Had he been threatened at all?”

“No, that’s the crazy thing. Everyone liked Jules. He was friendly. He was funny, too. But can I tell you something off the record?”

She was talking to Richie now. Asking him if she could trust him. The camera in the ceiling was rolling.

Conklin said, “Of course, Cheryl. Go ahead.”

“I think there’s going to be a big robbery at the airport. Something to do with US Customs.”

“Julian told you that? He specified customs?”

“I think he was going to be a lookout. He told me that the crew chief is a big-time robber and that he’s cold-blooded. You know what really scares me? If he found out that Jules talked to the police when he was arrested…”

Conklin was still giving Cheryl Sandler his full attention.

He asked her, “You’re sure he wasn’t making stuff up to impress you?”

“He isn’t like that.”

“Okay. Anything else?” Conklin asked her. “Do you know the boss’s name?”

She shook her head. I wasn’t convinced.

“It’s okay to tell us,” said Conklin. “You won’t be connected to this guy. I promise you.”

Cheryl leaned across the table and whispered to my partner. Conklin said, “Got it. Thank you. I’ll call you if we have further questions. Wait right here, Cheryl. I’ll get a police officer to drive you home.”

“I shouldn’t be seen in a police car,” she said.

“Here’s my number. If you think of anything we should know,” he said, handing her his card, “call, day or night.”

She tucked the card into her bag and blew her nose.

Richie said, “Sit tight. I’ll call you a cab.”

Chapter 69

Dick Russell took note of the active police presence as he drove slowly along the arrival lane outside the International Terminal.

Cruisers lingered in the taxi lanes. Uniformed officers talked to each other as they stood near curbside check-ins. No one even glanced at the seven-year-old gray Prius.

Then again, a number of these “cops” were on Willy’s payroll.

There was rapid movement up ahead: Willy sprinting across the street to the curb and hailing him. Dick brought the car to a stop but kept the motor running as his partner got into the passenger seat.

Dick quipped, “I guess I should ask you: How was the trip?”

“Short and sweet,” said Willy, snorting a laugh.

Dick had dropped Willy off an hour earlier, then parked in a short-term lot and waited for his partner to inspect the site one last time, making sure it was all a go.

“I had

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