2nd Chance - James Patterson [88]
“Charlie,” I said, “how long until we have a match on the gun?”
“Gun…?” He screwed his brow.
“Coombs’s gun. How long until we can match it up against the piece that killed Mercer?”
“It’s a little late, gorgeous, if you’re trying to narrow down your suspects. I’d start with the dude on Claire’s slab.”
“When, Charlie?” I shot back. “How long ’til you get a match?”
“Maybe Wednesday.” He shrugged. “We’ve got to scan the inside of the gun, get a reading on the—”
“Tomorrow, Charlie,” I said. “I need it by tomorrow.”
“Lindsay,” he said, looking a little confused, “what the hell is going on?”
I turned to Claire, a swallow of bile making an unpleasant retreat into my chest. “We have to bring this upstairs.”
We grabbed an elevator up to the fifth floor. I was so dumbfounded and racked with emotions, I hardly felt the pain shooting through my side. We barged into Acting Chief Tracchio’s office. He was scribbling at his desk.
“What are you doing here?” he exclaimed. “You should be home. Good God, Lieutenant, if anyone has a well-earned leave coming to them—”
I stopped him in midsentence. Then I told him what Claire had found. Suddenly, Tracchio looked as if he had swallowed a mouthful of bad oysters.
“I don’t buy this, Lieutenant,” he said. “You solved the case. It’s over.”
“You may not buy it,” Claire said firmly, “but I’ve never been so sure of anything in my professional life. There is no way Coombs could’ve pulled off those shots.”
“But this is all speculation,” Tracchio objected. “The links to the Sikes killing… Coombs’s Chimera background… his qualifications with weapons. These are all facts. Your facts, Lieutenant.” He wagged his finger at me, stabbing me point by point with my own analysis. “No one else could possibly fit that profile. I can’t argue with your conclusions, Dr. Washburn, but eliminating Coombs…”
“We can test his DNA against the sample of skin we found under Estelle Chipman’s nails,” Claire replied, “which is what I’m going to do. But I’ll bet my reputation against yours, they don’t match.”
“In the meantime, we have to reopen the case,” I said.
“Reopen the case?” Tracchio gasped. “I’m not going to give any such order.”
“If Chimera’s still out there,” I pressed, “he could be planning another hit right now. I suspect that he is.”
“Only yesterday,” Tracchio blurted, “you were one hundred percent sure Coombs was Chimera.”
“That was yesterday,” I said. “We told you why it’s changed. Right now I’m about one hundred percent sure Coombs isn’t Chimera.”
“What you’ve told me is medical speculation. I want solid proof. Get me the DNA check.”
“That could take days,” Claire said. “A week…”
“Then match the ballistics,” Tracchio ordered. “Chief Mercer was killed with a thirty-eight. I’ll guarantee you Clapper will show it was the same gun.”
“I’m on it. But in the meantime—”
“There is no meantime, Lieutenant. As far as I’m concerned, you did one hell of a job. Put your own life on the line. What you should be on now is medical leave, not trying to start another investigation.”
Claire and I looked at each other.
Then Tracchio picked up a few papers, the way figures of authority learn to do to communicate that a meeting is over. Fuck him.
Back in the hallway, I looked at Claire. “I’m about to bring the whole city down on us. You better be damn sure.”
“Course I’m sure,” she replied. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to wait for ballistics, Claire. And pray that nothing happens in between. I’m also putting everybody back on the investigation.”
Chapter 108
“CINDY THOMAS, is that you?”
Aaron Winslow almost couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. When Cindy opened the door to her apartment, she was wearing a tailored black pantsuit, sling-back heels, a solitaire diamond necklace. Directly behind her, he could see her dining room—lit candles, china, silver flatware, and crystal.
Cindy stepped forward and gave Aaron a kiss. Then she pulled away. God, she did look stunning. She was absolutely radiant tonight.