Murder at Ford's Theatre - Margaret Truman [81]
“He was obviously wrong. How are things with you?”
Did he mean with the investigation? “Good,” he said. “How’s the senator holding up?”
“Senator Lerner? Quite well, but that’s to be expected. Well, Detective Klayman, it was good seeing you. I assume it won’t be the last time.”
“Oh, no, Professor, I’ll be back next Saturday.”
“I didn’t mean that. Enjoy the weekend.”
Klayman left the law building and went to headquarters, where Johnson sat with Hathaway in the chief’s office. With them was Wally Wick, an MPD forensic specialist.
“Bingo!” Hathaway proclaimed as Klayman took a seat. “Catch what Wally’s come up with.”
Wick handed Klayman a written analysis of the comparison he’d made between latent footprints found at the murder scene, and color photographs of the soles of Jeremiah Lerner’s Ecco shoes.
“Look at the left shoe, Rick,” Wick said. “The class characteristics match perfectly, sole design, size, everything. But the individual characteristics are even more telling. See the wear pattern on the outside of the sole?” Klayman examined the photo carefully and saw what Wick meant. “Same as the latent print. And there’s that nick on the toe. See?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Perfect match,” said Wick. “That shoe was behind the theatre. No question about it. Whether the Lerner kid was wearing it is conjecture.”
“Conjecture, hell,” Hathaway said. “What do you think he did, lend his left shoe to somebody that night?”
Wick chuckled. “I just match ’em, Herman. You and the lawyers decide who was wearing ’em. Always a pleasure to do business with you.”
“Okay,” Hathaway said after Wick had left, “looks like we’re getting there. The shoe matches, and we’ve got witnesses who claim Lerner was dating the girl. When are you getting a statement from Bancroft?”
“Hopefully this afternoon,” Klayman said. “He said he’d be back from London today.”
“Well, get on it. I think we’ve got enough to charge Lerner. I’ll run it by LeCour over at the U.S. Attorney’s office. Get a statement from that actor and do it fast.”
“What about the senator himself?” Johnson asked. “Any progress on setting up an interview?”
“Not yet, but I’m not especially concerned about that. The kid did it. I’d bet my pension on it.”
“How was your class?” Johnson asked as he and Klayman went to the lobby, where Johnson used the ATM to get cash.
“Great. He’s a good teacher. I learned a lot.”
“You learn anything about the Lerner kid?”
“From Smith? No. We never got into that. He asked me how the investigation was going. I said slow. That was it.”
Klayman used a phone at the desk to dial Bancroft’s number.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Bancroft, Detective Klayman.”
His announcement was met with a moan.
“Sir?”
“I just walked in the door, Detective, and am suffering terminal jet lag. My circadian rhythms have positively crashed, although I’m pleased the plane didn’t.”
“Sir, could my partner and I come by and get a statement from you regarding Jeremiah Lerner having dated the murder victim, Nadia Zarinski?”
“Oh, my, that sounds so official. A statement. Written, I presume.”
“Yes, sir. Just a short statement. Won’t take more than a few minutes.”
“I find this terribly dismaying.”
“Yes, sir, I’m sure you do, but—”
“Ms. Emerson mustn’t know I told you about the boy dating Nadia. I won’t have to testify at his trial, will I?”
“That’s not my decision, sir.”
“Perhaps another time.”
“Sir, I’m afraid this can’t wait.”
“What if I refuse to give you your statement? What if I deny I ever said anything about Jeremiah and the girl?”
“That wouldn’t be the truth, would it?”
Klayman glanced at Johnson, whose expression clearly mirrored his annoyance at his partner’s placating of Bancroft.
“Mr. Bancroft,” Klayman said, “I would really appreciate it if—”
The actor’s voice, more studied and theatrical now, said, “Take note, take note, oh world, to be direct and honest is not safe.”
“Pardon?”
“The hypocritical Iago, Detective, to Othello. Honesty