the guy that gets paid by the word. Any viable candidates for ‘A’?”
“Too many. But I didn’t think you were on the police force anymore.”
“There’s no law that says a private citizen can’t investigate a crime.”
“But—”
“Getting back to the key and e-mail, any thoughts?”
“Well, you can’t hold me to anything.”
“Just tell me, Roy.”
“Chester Ackerman. He’s the managing partner of the firm. I spoke with him yesterday. He was really nervous, upset.”
“One of his lawyers got stuck in the fridge, there’s a lot to be upset about.”
“I know, but, and this is just my gut, he seemed scared beyond what the situation would compel, if you know what I mean.”
“Like he was scared for his own skin?”
“And I think he was lying about something too.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Just something.”
“What do you know about him?”
“He’s from Chicago. Has a family. Brings in tons of business.”
“Okay, so basically you’re telling me you know nothing?”
“I’ve never had a reason to dig much deeper on the guy.”
“So maybe now you do have a reason.”
“You want me to spy on the managing partner?” he said incredulously.
“And anybody else who seems productive.”
“For what is most likely a random killing?”
“Your partner got stuffed in a fridge. Who’s to say it doesn’t have something to do with this place?”
Roy picked up his rubber ball, and shot at the basket. And missed.
“Mechanics are off. Murder closeup sometimes does that.” She perched on the edge of his desk and used the tissue to go through the book page by page. “No mob players on the old client list by chance?”
He shook his head. “We don’t do criminal work here. Just deals.”
“Business clients get into legal trouble all the time.”
“Like I told you before, if it’s litigation, we farm it out.”
“To what firm?”
“Several, on an approved list.”
“We’re not making much progress here.”
“No, we’re not,” Roy agreed.
“How much do you make?”
His eyes widened slightly. “Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Because you haven’t given me an answer. Don’t look all pissed. It’s a legit question.”
“Okay, more than Altman is paying you.”
“How much more?”
“With bonus and profit-share and bennies, nearly double.”
“An entry-level cop on MPD pulls less than fifty thou a year.”
“I never said life was fair. But just so you know, as a CJA I never made close to fifty a year.” He studied her. “So why did you want to know how much I make?”
“Your firm clearly has money, so that’s a motive to kill.”
“Okay. Maybe I can look into some stuff and get back to you. What are you doing tonight?”
“Dinner with big sis. But I’m free after that.”
“What, you never sleep?”
“Not for the last two years.”
She pocketed the key still wrapped in tissue.
Roy looked nervously at her. “I don’t want a withholding evidence charge leveled against me.”
“And I want to find out what the hell is going on around here. I’m like addicted to things that seem to make no sense.”
“But you’re not a cop anymore, Mace.”
“So everybody keeps reminding me,” she said, as she left his office.
CHAPTER 29
MACE SAT on her bike with material evidence from a homicide investigation ripping a black hole in her jacket pocket. She had just committed a felony in a city where her sister was the top enforcer of the law.
“You are an idiot,” she muttered as the Ducati idled at a stoplight. “A moron. A reckless piece of crap that never knows when to say, ‘No, don’t do that!’” She’d promised her sister she would not do exactly what she was doing. Meddling in the case.
But something had happened to her in prison that not even Beth knew about. She’d read an old news article about an FBI agent who’d been convicted of witness tampering, aiding a mob boss, and helping to transport weapons across state lines. He had protested his innocence the entire time, claiming he’d been framed but to no avail. He was tried, convicted, and served his full sentence. On getting out he’d moved to another state, secretly gone undercover, and infiltrated a violent drug ring. He’d collected a mountain of evidence at great personal risk and turned it all over to the Bureau, who’d made the bust. He’d even gone on the stand to testify against the ringleaders. The media had picked up the story and run with it and the public outcry had been immense.
The thinking was, why would a guilty man have done something like that? He must’ve been innocent. There had been a clear miscarriage of justice. The public pressure filtered to the politicians on Capitol