Page 37 of The Writer
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
OUTSIDE.
Declan drags hard on a cigarette he bummed off a patrol officer during his and Cordova’s hasty exit from the Twentieth. He hasn’t smoked in nearly four years, but he sure as hell needs one now. “Has the LT ever told you he spoke to Denise Morrow? Even once?”
Cordova is standing a few paces up the sidewalk, upwind. He hates the smell of cigarette smoke. If it gets in his suit, he’s more likely to burn it than launder it, but he clearly understands why Declan needs one. “He and I have had our share of private conversations about this since it first started, and he’s never said that. He took me to breakfast the morning of my deposition with IAU, and we covered every inch of the Maggie Marshall case—every single thing you and I did—so there’s been opportunity, but if they were talking, he kept it to himself.”
Declan takes another hit of the cigarette. “I suppose you talked about me too, right?”
“What do you think?”
“So what do you think he told her?”
“This could mean nothing,” Cordova says. “It might mean she tracked down Harrison’s name from the article and got nowhere with him, then tracked down your supervisor and took a run at Daniels. It doesn’t mean they actually spoke. Doesn’t mean he told her anything.”
Declan doesn’t buy that. “That number didn’t ring Daniels’s desk line, and that wasn’t his work cell either; I got that one memorized, I dial it so much. No, that was some other number. Some phone important enough he keeps it on him. Personal cell. Maybe a burner. Why would she have that number? Who would give it to her? Had to be Harrison, right?”
Cordova gives a dismissive shrug. “You ever know Daniels and Harrison to talk outside official channels? You ever see them say a word to each other at the Six?”
Declan considers that. The Six was seen as neutral ground for all members of the force; it was like Switzerland. For the most part, problems, conflicts, disagreements, and bad blood were left at the door. That meant you might find someone from IAU laughing it up with a homicide detective, or you might see a uniform putting away shots with someone from the DA’s office. There was no rank inside the Six. But even there, Harrison was an outsider. Other members of his team might belly up to the bar next to someone they were investigating, but not Harrison. He tended to occupy a booth in the back and hold court. As the alcohol flowed, some would wander over in hopes of gleaning some detail on an open investigation, while others might find themselves at his booth sharing something they’d bottled up, something they’d decided needed to come out. Declan has been going to the Six for years, but he can’t recall a single instance of seeing Harrison and Daniels talking. Here’s the thing, though: Guys like Daniels climbed the ranks because they understood information was currency. They also understood the importance of discretion.
Cordova takes a few steps down the sidewalk, turns, and comes back again. “He ever tell you he went up to Dannemora to talk to Lucero?”
Declan nearly chokes on the cigarette smoke. “What? When?”
“It was about a week before he had to give his deposition to IAU. A few days after I gave mine. Maybe a month after Lucero’s trial. Remember when he had all the Lucero files brought to his office so he could rehash every aspect of the case? He re-created our whiteboards, reread every witness statement.”
“Oh, you mean the first time he called me an ignorant bastard and tried to punch holes in our work?” Declan puffs. “You mean that time?”
Cordova nods. “Something triggered him, but he wouldn’t say what. I asked him a couple times and he just clammed up.”
“IAU was all over him, same as us. He was probably making sure we didn’t miss anything, right?”
“He has forty-one officers under his command,” Cordova says. “At any given time, he’s got three to five open IAU investigations on his desk. He’s not the sort to get rattled by that kind of thing. I doubt you last long on that job if you do. Something else spooked him.”
“Before or after he drove up to Dannemora?”
“After,” Cordova says. “He had everything brought to his office after .”
They both fall silent for several moments, then Declan stomps out the cigarette. “Denise Morrow contacts Roy Harrison. Roy Harrison points her to Daniels—”
“With a personal number.”
“With a personal number,” Declan repeats. “He takes a drive up to Dannemora and chats with Lucero, and Lucero tells him something that seriously twists his panties.” Declan waits for Cordova to throw a wrench in that, because that’s what Cordova does, but his partner remains silent. Finally, he nods.
Declan says, “We need to take a ride up to Dannemora.”
“ I need to take a ride up to Dannemora,” Cordova replies. “You’re going to do exactly what the LT said and take the day off.”
“No way, I—”
“You can’t give him or Harrison or anyone else an excuse to shut you down. Not until we know what this is about.”