Just Take My Heart - Mary Higgins Clark [109]
She waved to the police officer in the squad car at the curb, ad?mitting to herself that it was very comforting to see him there. The locksmith and the alarm people were scheduled to come later in the day. Yesterday she had arranged it that way so she would have a few quiet hours with the Aldrich file before they arrived.
Richard's call last night certainly changed all that, Emily mused as she parked and got out of the car. Before that call I never would have dreamt that I'd be in Ted Wesley's office this morning, then moving to have Gregg Aldrich released on bail. And when I drove to New York, I certainly never thought I'd find out that my detective has been tampering with evidence.
She went into the house and was greeted with a noisy welcome from Bess. “Bark as loud as you want, Bess,” she said, as she scooped the little dog up in her arms. “And no, we're not going for a walk. I'll let you out in the back and that's it for now.”
She unbolted the door from the porch and stood on the steps as Bess raced around the yard, her paws making scraping sounds on the fallen leaves. The day had started out with brilliant sunshine but now the sky was becoming overcast and there was a feeling of im?pending rain.
Emily waited for five minutes then called, “Want a treat, Bess?” That does the trick every time, she thought as Bess willingly scam?pered back inside. After carefully rebolting the door, Emily rewarded Bess with the promised treat and put the kettle on.
She knew that she needed a jolt of coffee. If I don't have some I'll fall asleep standing up. And I'm hungry. I never did eat dinner last night. Richard's call took care of that.
Thanks to Sunday's food shopping, the refrigerator was well stocked. She decided on a ham and cheese sandwich. When she'd made it and poured the coffee, she sat at the kitchen table to have a quick lunch. By the time she finished the second cup of coffee, the caffeine had kicked in and she felt clearheaded as she considered what to do next.
She knew what would happen if she confronted Billy with the sketch he had brought back from New York. He would explode and rant that it wasn't the one he had put in the Aldrich file and obvi?ously some stupid clerk had mixed them up. But why would our office have a second sketch from the Manhattan DA with the same date from nearly twenty years ago unless Billy had brought it back?
He could certainly say that the sketch I have now may have a general resemblance to him but also to loads of other people. He would also point out scathingly that the artist had worked from a de?scription given by a woman who had never even met the person she was talking about.
If I go to Ted now, especially since he's so angry about the Jimmy Easton mess, he'll probably tell me that I somehow mixed them up myself.
I have considered every possibility, Emily concluded. For what?ever reason, Billy removed the copy of the original sketch when he brought the file back to New Jersey and then managed to get a sec?ond one created as a substitute. That's called tampering with evi?dence. He never expected that I would ever go to New York to look at the file myself. But I did.
However this turns out, when I'm done with it, I am going to go back through every file that he has ever handled where there have been complaints about him. And that's whether his cousin, our about-to-be attorney general, likes it or not.
The front doorbell rang.
Bess began barking frantically. Emily carried her to the door. It was the locksmith, a man in his sixties wearing jeans and a Giants football sweatshirt. “I understand you want me to check everything, ma'am, all the doors and windows.”
'Yes, I do. And I want the strongest locks you can give me."
“Don't blame you. People need them these days. That's for sure. Just look at what