“Besides the pee.” Clapper laughed. “You think I’m holding out on you? You’re cute, Lindsay, but I get off on bagging killers more. Meanwhile, I’ve got someone running that tux jacket under the microscope. I’ll let you know. Roger wilco.”
“Thanks, Charlie,” I muttered disappointedly.
As I flipped further through my stack of messages, Cindy Thomas’s name came to the top.
Normally, I wasn’t in the habit of phoning back reporters in the middle of an ongoing investigation. But this one had been smart and cool making her way up to the crime scene, yet kind in backing off when she had me cornered in the bathroom.
I found her at her desk. “Thanks for calling me back, Inspector,” she said in an appreciative tone.
“I owed you, I guess. Thanks for cutting me some slack at the hotel.”
“Happens to us all. But I have to ask: Do you always react so personally at a crime scene? You’re a homicide detective, right?”
I didn’t have the time or heart to get into a battle of wits, so I used Jacobi’s line. “It was a wedding. I always cry at them. What can I do for you, Ms. Thomas?”
“Cindy…. I’m going to do you a favor. When I reach five, maybe you’ll do one for me.”
“We have a homicide, a very bad one. We’re not going to play Let’s Make a Deal. And if we meet again, you’ll find I’m not my cheeriest when I feel indebted.”
“I guess what I was hoping for,” she said, “was to hear your spin on the bride and groom.”
“Doesn’t Tom Stone cover homicide for the Chronicle?” I asked.
I heard her take in a breath. “I won’t lie to you. I normally handle local interest out of Metro.”
“Well, you got yourself a real story now. ‘Marriage Made in Heaven Ends Up in Hell.’ You’re quick out of the gate.”
“Truth is, Inspector,”
— her voice grew softer — “I’d never seen anything like that before. Seeing David Brandt lying there… on his wedding night. I know what you must think, but it’s not just about the story. I’d like to help any way I can.”
“I appreciate that, but since we’ve got all these eager people with badges walking around here. We ought to give them a shot? Anyway, you should know that you sneaking your way up to the thirtieth floor didn’t exactly get me invited to the commissioner’s for brunch. I had tactical responsibility at the crime scene.”
“I never thought I’d actually make it through.”
“So we’ve established we don’t know who owes whom here. But since it’s my dime…”
The reporter’s voice went back to a peremptory tone. “I called to get your reaction to a story we’re going to break later today. You know the groom’s father runs a buyout firm. Our business editor pulled off Bloomberg that they backed out of a proposed agreement at the last minute with the third-largest Russian automaker, Kolya-Novgorod. Brandt was providing up to two hundred million dollars for a significant stake. Kolya’s one of those Russian conglomerates taken over by a new branch of black-market capitalists. Without the cash, I’m told it’s virtually bankrupt. My source tells me the mood got very fractious.”
I laughed. “Fractious, Ms. Thomas? I might be getting a little fractious myself.”
“Apparently, some of the Russians were left hanging with their Uncle Vanyas out.”
I laughed again. “Conspiracy to commit murder is a federal crime,” I told her. “If there’s something to it, you should make the call to Justice.”
“I just thought I’d let you know. In the meantime, you want to throw me a comment on any other possibilities you’re looking into?”
“Sure. I’d feel safe in saying that they’re ‘ongoing.’”
“Thanks.” She sighed. “Have you narrowed in on any suspects yet?”
“This is what they tell you to ask at the Chronicle? You know I can’t divulge that.”
“Off the record. No attribution. As a friend.”
As I listened, I remembered when I was a recruit trying to elbow my way in. How the police world had been barred, closed off, until someone had opened up the tiniest crack to let me crawl through. “Like I said, Ms. Thomas,” my tone starting to soften, “no promises.”
“Cindy,” the reporter said. “At least call me Cindy. For the next time you get cornered in the bathroom with your guard down.”