friends and family?”
“What do you think?”
“Your bosses want the case closed. That’s what I think.”
Quinn took a long, sullen sip of coffee. “I think this girl was a victim, Clare, not a suicide, and not an accidental death. I think there’s a guy out there who’s partying with dangerous drugs. He may not have meant to kill these girls, but he did, and he’s at least guilty of manslaughter. He must know about this latest death, given the headlines, but he hasn’t stepped forward. And I don’t think he will. He drugged both girls—even if they took the stuff willingly, he left them unconscious without a second thought. And I think he’ll do the same thing again.”
“Then you have to find him, Mike. No matter what your bosses say.”
“I know.”
“What did your superiors say when you told them all this?”
Quinn’s frown deepened. “Circumstantial similarities. It doesn’t help my theory that both girls had a history of using drugs recreationally—although rarely.”
“Didn’t the domestic worker see anyone come into the apartment?”
“The domestic’s a young, single woman—a live-in. She was given the day off, which she spent with her sister’s family in Queens. She returned around eight that night. That’s when she found her employer.”
I sipped my own coffee, considering the facts. “What did the victim do that day?”
“We know that Billie went to a party that morning on the Upper West Side—a large apartment that had a view of the Thanksgiving Day parade.”
“That kind of parade-watching party is pretty common in the city,” I said. “What did the people at the party tell you?”
“Billie talked to almost everyone there. She watched the parade and left the party alone. She entered her building alone. The doorman never announced anyone for her, and the lobby security camera confirms the doorman’s story. There’s a service entrance to the building, no camera on it, but it’s securely locked from the inside and there’s no sign of a break-in.”
“The man must have lived in Billie’s building, then, right?”
“That’s what we think; even though Billie had no history of sleeping with anyone in her building, it could have been a solitary sexual fling. We’re still working on getting DNA samples from the male residents—including the married men. It’s a touchy legal issue. Most have lawyers who are fighting it. This is a tough one, Cosi.”
I sipped more coffee, then drummed my fingers on the tabletop. “Wouldn’t the DNA help your theory? If the Billington and Arnold girls had sex with the same man—even if you can’t ID the guy yet—wouldn’t that prove the pattern you’re arguing?”
“Yes, it would, and I’m trying to get that test done.”
“Maybe there are more victims, too. Did you think of that? Cases with those same things in common? And if you find those, you might find other things in common—like the killer.”
Quinn gave me a half smile. “Logical next step, Detective. And, yes, Sully and I thought of that.” Sully was short for Sergeant Finbar Sullivan, Quinn’s right-hand man on the OD Squad.
“He and I are going to work that angle this week, quietly, along with our regular caseload. We’re going to review the cold-case interviews with Cora Arnold’s friends and family; look for anything in Cora’s life that might intersect with the facts we’ve gathered about the male residents of Billie’s building. I wanted you to know because it’s going to mean some late nights and early mornings. It’s important you understand . . .”
“I get it, Mike. You’re warning me that you won’t be around much.”
“I want to help with Alf, Clare—”
“I know you do, but I can handle it. I can. How hard can it be to ask James Young a few questions, judge his reactions?”
Quinn studied me. “You need to have a partner watching your back.”
“I know. That’s why I took Esther with me last night to the courtyard.”
“But she left you.”
“That was my call.”
“Well, do me a favor, sweetheart; bring backup and keep it there, okay?”
“Okay. I will. Don’t worry.”
“Can’t promise that.” He smiled. “In the meantime, I’ll see what I can dig up for you on Franco.”
“Thanks. I mean it.”
He shrugged. “’Tis the season for favors. And you did tell me what you wanted for Christmas.” We both smiled at that.
“Speaking of Christmas,” I said, “we haven’t discussed plans for the holiday. Do you have time scheduled with your kids? I was thinking we could take them ice skating in Bryant Park, see the tree at Rock Center. There’s always frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity, and Macy’s