Kovacliska - Ashes To Ashes Part 16

word-"herself. Jillie was always up one minute and down the next.

Volatile."

The daughter of a woman in and out of inst.i.tutions for psychiatric

problems.

"She didn't give any sign something was bothering her, that she was worried about anything?"

"No."

"Did you discuss anything in particular, or argue about-" Bondurant's.e.xplosion was sudden, strong, surprising. "My G.o.d, if I'd thought therewas anything wrong, if I'd thought something was going to happen, don'tyou think I would have stopped her from leaving? Don't you think I wouldhave kept her here?"

"I'm sure you would have," Quinn said softly, the voice of compa.s.sionand rea.s.surance, emotions he had stopped giving out in full measure longago because it took too much from him and there was no one around tohelp him refill the well. He tried to keep his focus on his underlyingmotive, which was to get information. Manipulate, coax, slip under theguard, draw out the truth a sliver at a time. Get the info to get thekiller.

Remember that the first person he owed his allegiance to was the victim.

"What did you talk about that night?" he asked gently as Bondurantworked visibly to gather his composure.

"The usual things," he said, impatient, looking out the window again.

"Her cla.s.ses. My work. Nothing."

"Her therapy?"

"No, she-" He stiffened, then turned to glare at Quinn.

"We need to know these things, Mr. Bondurant," Quinn said withoutapology. "With every victim we have to consider the possibility thatsome part of their life may have a link to their death. It may be thethinnest thread that ties one thing to the other. It might be somethingyou don't think could be important at all. But sometimes that's all ittakes, and sometimes that's all we have.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you? We'll do everything in ourpower to keep details confidential, but if you want this killerapprehended, you have to cooperate with us."

The explanation did nothing to soften Bondurant's anger. He turnedabruptly back to the desk and pulled a card from the Rolodex.

"Dr. Lucas Brandt. For all the good it will do you. I'm sure I don'thave to tell you that anything Jillian related to Lucas as a patient isconfidential."

"And what about anything she related to you as her father?"

His temper came in another quick flash, boiling up and over the rigidcontrol. "If I knew anything, anything that could lead you to mydaughter's murderer, don't you think I would tell you?"

Quinn was silent, his unblinking gaze steady on Peter Bondurant's face,on the vein that slashed down across his high forehead like a bolt oflightning. He pulled the Rolodex card from Bondurant's fingers.

"I hope so, Mr. Bondurant," he said at last. "Some other young woman'slife may depend on it."

"WAT'D YOU GET?" Kovac asked as they walked away from the house. He lit a cigarette and went to work sucking in as much of it as he could beforethey reached the car.

Quinn stared down the driveway and past the gate where two cameramenstood with eyes pressed to viewfinders. There was no long range audioequipment in sight, but the lenses on the cameras were fat and long. Hisperiod of anonymity was going into countdown.

"Yeah," he said. "A bad feeling."

"Jeer, I've had that from the start of this deal. You know what a manlike Bondurant could do to a career?"

"My question is: Why would he want to?"

" "Cause he's rich and he's hurting. He's like that guy with the gun inthe government center yesterday. He wants someone else to hurt.

He wants someone to pay. Maybe if he can make someone else miserable, hewon't feel his own pain so much. You know," he said in that offhand wayhe had, "people are nuts. So what'd he say? Why won't he talk to uslocals?"

"He doesn't trust you."

Kovac straightened with affront and tossed his cigarette on thedriveway.

"Well, f.u.c.k him!"

"He's paranoid about details leaking to the media."

"Like what details? What's he got to hide?"

Quinn shrugged. "That's your job, Sherlock. But I got you a place tostart."

They climbed into the Caprice. Quinn pulled the ca.s.sette recorder fromhis coat pocket and laid it on the seat between them with the Rolodexcard on top of it.

Kovac picked up the card and frowned at it. "A shrink. What'd I tellyou? People are nuts. Especially rich people-they're the only ones whocan afford to do anything about it. It's like a hobby with them."

Quinn stared up at the house, half expecting to see a face at one of thewindows, but there was no one. All the windows were blank and black onthis dreary morning.

"Was there ever any mention in the press about either of the first twovictims being drug users?" he asked.

"No," Kovac said. "The one used to be, but we held it back. Lila White.

"Lily' White. The first vic. She was a basehead for a while, but she gotherself straightened out. Went through a county program, lived at one ofthe hooker halfway houses for a while-only that part didn't take, I guess.

Anyway, the drug angle didn't develop. Why?"

"Bondurant made a reference. Might have just been an a.s.sumption on hispart, but I don't think so. I think either he knew something about theother victims or he knew something about Jillian."

"If she was using anything around the time of her death, it'll show upin the tax screen. I went through her town house. I didn't see anythingstronger than Tylenol."

"If she was using, you might have a connection to the other victims."

And thereby a possible connection to a dealer or another user they coulddevelop into a suspect.

The feral smile of the hunter on a fresh scent lifted the corners of Kovac's mustache. "Networking. I love it. Corporate America thinksthey're on to something new. Crooks have been networking since Juda.s.sold Jesus Christ down the river. I'll call Liska, have her and Mossnose around. Then let's go see what Sigmund Fraud here has to say aboutthe price of loose marbles." He tapped the Rolodex card against thesteering wheel. "His office is on the other side of this lake."

CHAPTER9.

SO WHAT do you think of Quinn?" Liska asked.

Mary Moss rode shotgun, looking out the window at the Mississippi. Bargetraffic had given up for the year. Along this stretch, the river was adeserted strip of brown between ratty, half-abandoned industrial andwarehouse blocks. "They say he's hot stuff. A legend in the making."

"You've never worked with him?"

"No. Roger Emerson usually works this territory out of Quantico.

But then, the vic isn't usually the daughter of a billionaire captain ofindustry with contacts in Washington.

"I liked the way he handled Tippen," Moss went on. "No bully-boy,I'm-the-fed-and-you're-a-hick nonsense. I think he's a quick study ofpeople. Probably frighteningly intelligent. What'd you think?"

Liska sent her a lascivious grin. "Nice pants."

"G.o.d! Here I was being serious and professional, and you were looking athis a.s.s!"

"Well, not when he was talking. But, come on, Mar, the guy's a totalbabe. Wouldn't you like a piece of that if you could get it?"

Moss looked fl.u.s.tered. "Don't ask me things like that. I'm an oldmarried woman! I'm an old married Catholic woman!"

"As long as the word dead doesn't figure into that description, you'reallowed to look."

"Nice pants," Moss muttered, fighting chuckles.

"Those big brown eyes, that granite jaw, that s.e.xy mouth. I think Icould have an o.r.g.a.s.m watching him talk about proactive strategies."

"Nikki!"

"Oh, that's right, you're a married woman," Liska teased. "You're notallowed to have o.r.g.a.s.ms."

"Do you talk this way when you're riding around with Kovac?"

"Only if I want to get him crazy. He twitches like a gigged frog.

Tells me he doesn't want to know anything about my o.r.g.a.s.ms, that awoman's G spot should just remain a mystery. I tell him that's why he'sbeen divorced twice. You should see how red he gets. I love Kovac-he'ssuch a guy."

Moss pointed through the windshield. "Here it is-Edgewater."

The Edgewater town homes were a collection of impeccably styledbuildings designed to call to mind a tidy New England fishingvillagegray clapboard trimmed in white, cedar shake roofs, six-over-sixparted windows. The units were arranged like a crop of wild mushroomsconnected by meandering, landscaped paths. All of them faced the river.

"I've got the key to Bondurant's unit," Liska said, piloting the carinto the entrance of the town house complex, "but I called the caretaker anyway.

He says he saw Jillian leaving Friday afternoon. I figure it won't hurtto talk to him again."

She parked near the first unit and she and Moss showed their badges tothe man waiting for them on the stoop. Liska pegged Gil Vanlees formid-thirties. He was blond with a thin, weedy mustache, six feet tall,and soft-looking. His Timberwolves starter jacket hung open over a bluesecurity guard's uniform. He had that look of a marginal high schooljock who had let himself go. Too many hours spent watching professionalsports with a can in his hand and a sack of chips beside him.

"So, you're a detective?" His small eyes gleamed at Liska with an almosts.e.xual excitement. One was blue and one the odd, murky color of smokytopaz.

Liska smiled at him. "That's right."

"I think it's great to see women on the job. I work security down at theTarget Center, you know," he said importantly. "Timberwolves, concerts,truck pulls, and all. We've got a couple gals on, you know. I just thinkit's great. More power to you."

She was willing to bet money that when he was sitting around drinkingwith the boys, he called those women names even she wouldn't use. Sheknew Vanlees's type firsthand. "So you work security there and lookafter this complex too?"

"Yeah, well, you know my wife-we're separated-she works for themanagement company, and that's how we got the town house, @cause I'mtelling you, for what they charge for these places .. . It's unreal.

"So I'm kind of like the super, you know, even though I'm not livinghere now. The owners here count on me, so I'm hanging in until the wife decides what to do. People have problems-plumbing, electrical, whatnot-Isee it gets taken care of. I've got the locksmith coming to change thelocks on Miss Bondurant's place this afternoon. And I keep an eye out,you know.

Unofficial security. The residents appreciate it. They know I'm on thejob, that I've got the training."

"Is Miss Bondurant's unit this way?" Moss inquired, gesturing toward theriver, leaning, hinting.

Vanlees frowned at her, the small eyes going smaller still. "I talked tosome detectives yesterday." As if he thought she might be an impostorwith her mousy-mom looks, not the real deal like Liska.

"Yeah, well, we're following up," Liska said casually. "You know how itis." Though he clearly didn't have a clue other than what he'd picked upwatching NYPD Blue and reading cheesy detective magazines. Some peoplewould cooperate better when they felt included.

Others wanted all kinds of a.s.surances neither the crime nor the investigation would taint their lives in any way.

Vanlees dug a ring of keys out of his jacket pocket and led the way downthe sidewalk. "I applied to the police department once," he confided.

"They had a hiring freeze on. You know, budgets and all."

"Jeer, that's tough," Liska said, doing her best Frances Mcdormand inFargo impersonation. "You know, it seems like we always need goodpeople, but that budget hang-up, that's a kicker .. ... Vanlees nodded,the man in the know. "Political BS-but I don't need to tell you, right?"

"You got that right. Who knows how many potential great cops likeyourself are working other jobs. It's a shame."

"I could have done the job." Years-old bitterness colored his tone likean old stain that wouldn't quite wash out.

"So, did you know this Bondurant girl, Gil?"

"Oh, sure, I saw her around. She never had much to say. Unfriendly type.She's dead, huh? They wouldn't say it for sure on the news, but it'sher, right?"

"We've got some questions unanswered."

"I heard there was a witness. To what-that's what I'm wondering. I mean,did they see him kill her or what? That'd be something, huh?

Awful."

"I can't really get into it, you know?" Liska said, apologetic. "I'dlike to-you being in a related field and all-but you know how it is."

Vanlees nodded with false wisdom.