Fifth Grave Past the Light Page 72

“You have five minutes.”

“You’re so testy. Are you getting enough tiny tomatoes in your diet?”

“I checked, by the way,” he said, his voice softening. “There has never been a missing girl matching the description you gave me from the New Mexico School for the Deaf.”

Disappointed, I asked, “Can you check other schools for the Deaf? It’s honestly the only lead I have at this point. I’m getting nothing.”

“Will do. Sorry, pumpkin.”

“Thanks for playing my hunch.”

“Well, you were right. They were not all natural blondes, and some had their hair bleached postmortem.”

How did they know such things? “At least we’re kind of getting somewhere with the case.”

“Small steps. We’ll get him, pumpkin. And you have five minutes.”

After a long sigh, I said, “I’m on my way.”

This would either work or not. I would either ruin Kim’s life, who could probably have gotten away with the whole thing squeaky clean if she really were to stop like she promised, or get her the help she so richly deserved.

Uncle Bob met me at the front doors of the station. He seemed agitated, ready to get this over with.

“Okay, we have the DA, the ADA, the fire marshal, Captain Eckert, and a couple of other detectives who were working on the case. Would you mind telling me who this mystery arsonist is before we go in there? I don’t want to be blindsided.”

“To be honest, Uncle Bob, I don’t plan on telling you who it is at all.”

He pulled me to a stop. “Charley, what the hell?”

I’d expected his face to turn purple with anger, but he seemed more stunned than livid.

“I want my client to have the opportunity to turn herself in. I’m just here to negotiate the terms of her surrender.”

“Hon, are you sure you don’t want a lawyer for her first?”

“What? A cop suggesting a lawyer? Besides, I have one.” I winked to the lawyer I’d hired as he walked up.

Uncle Bob looked around, rolled his eyes, then asked, “You mean the lawyer you got for your client is dead?”

“He’s departed, yes. And you’ve met him.”

I reached out and shook Sussman’s hand. He, along with his two partners, had been murdered a few months back. I’d worked on the case with Uncle Bob.

“It’s Patrick Sussman from that case a while back. The one with the three lawyers?”

“Right, right,” he said, becoming more nervous by the second.

“Hey, Charley,” Sussman said. Like the newest dead guy in my life, Sussman wore round-rimmed glasses, but unlike Duff, Sussman wore a suit and tie, mussed as they both were. The only thing missing was a centuries-old briefcase.

“How’s the wife and kids?” I asked him. He’d stayed behind for them despite my encouragement to cross.

“They’re better. I think they’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad. Shall we do this?”

He beckoned me forward. “Absolutely.”

Uncle Bob leaned into me. “You’re not going to talk to him in there, are you?”

“Since I’d like to avoid a stint in a padded room, no.”

Sussman chuckled and pushed his glasses up his nose with an index finger. “I think you’re on the right track with this one, Charley. Your plan is solid. I can’t imagine they won’t take it, but if they look like they are going to back out, call that other lawyer I told you about immediately. Your attorney - client privilege will get you only so far. They could have you in handcuffs in minutes.”

“Got it. Thanks. Oh, and Ubie, can you send a patrol car to Gemma’s house and her office? I really need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Why?” he asked in alarm. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain inside,” I said as we walked into a room full of suits. It was a small room. Everyone stood when we entered, and Uncle Bob introduced me to the ADA and the fire marshal. I’d met the DA, a fashion-centric man who I thought was entirely too young for such a stressful position. Why nobody asked me these things beforehand, I never knew.

The ADA was actually a little older than the hotshot DA, but not much. Our legal institution was being run by kids. That was scary. Oh, well – half the staff that sent the first men to the moon were kids.

The captain eyed me in that austere and slightly curious way of his. I had no idea why he made me so uncomfortable, but he did. He could have me sacked from the department. That could be one reason, but I didn’t rely on my consultant position to pay the bills. However, I did rely on it to keep me knee-deep in mocha lattes. That explained it. If I lost this gig, no more mocha lattes at whim. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I had to make this good. Both Kim’s and my mocha lattes’ futures were at stake.

The captain spoke first. “Davidson, is there something you’d like to share?”

I could have shared the reason I didn’t get to the station until ten, but I figured that would fall solidly under the label of oversharing. So I just nodded as we sat at a long wood veneer table.

“I want to make sure my client is given every opportunity for a reduced sentence and to make restitution for what she’s done.”

That knocked the wind out of everyone. Did they think I was kidding when I said I knew who did it?

“So, you really know who the arsonist is?” the ADA asked.