The Garden of Betrayal - Lee Vance [86]
“Why’s that?”
The chief pointed his chin at me.
“Because I looked him up, and I learned that he’s got a missing kid, and that you’ve been beavering away on it for the better part of the last decade. Very admirable. Makes the department proud. But I’m guessing that also makes you the guy who’s been leaking confidential information on one of our priority cases to him. And that’s not so admirable.”
“Fidelis ad Mortem,” Reggie said. “My bad.”
The chief kept smiling.
“Happens again and you’re going to have a lot more free time to fish for stripers with your old partner Joe Belko, no matter how many pals you got on the community boards. You read me?”
“Loud and clear, chief.”
“Good.”
The chief turned to look at me, the lieutenant’s head following as if it were attached.
“And what about you?” he asked.
“What about me?”
“Either you’re the unluckiest son of a bitch in the city of New York or you’re dirty in this up to your elbows.”
I was tempted to tell him to fuck off, but I decided to follow Reggie’s lead. I didn’t feel strong enough to get involved in a pissing match.
“Unlucky, I guess.”
“I see. And what can you tell me that might shed light on the untimely demise of the city’s esteemed Arab guest Mr. al-Shaabi?”
“Zero. Rashid and I got together periodically to talk about the energy markets. He called yesterday out of the blue and asked me to stop by. We spoke for a while, and I woke up here.”
“Spoke about what?”
“Ongoing production problems in Iraq, and how the rest of OPEC will respond.”
“So, it’s pure happenstance that I’m bumping into you on two separate murders in the same week.”
“I thought Alex was an accident,” I said, my mouth suddenly dry again.
“We have an expression in the department: Who the fuck knows? We say suicide, his rich and well-connected father says accident. We say accident, his father says maybe someone put him in the tub. I don’t mind admitting that we’re a little confused. You haven’t had any more thoughts on Mr. Coleman’s death, have you?”
“None. I wish I could help you.”
“No link between Mr. al-Shaabi and Mr. Coleman that we should be aware of? Nothing you were working on with either of them that might have made someone unhappy?”
“No.”
“Did Mr. al-Shaabi and Mr. Coleman know each other?”
“No. I’d been careful to keep my relationship with Rashid quiet, even from Alex, because Rashid hadn’t wanted his employees to know that he spoke to me.”
The chief nodded and turned to the lieutenant.
“What do you think?”
“I think he’s a lying sack of shit.”
“Mr. Wallace is a citizen,” Reggie said, giving the lieutenant a look that would have made me take a few steps back. “Courtesy, professionalism, and respect. That’s the new department, isn’t it?”
The lieutenant glared back at him.
“Detective Kinnard’s correct,” the chief said mildly. “I apologize for Lieutenant Wayland’s rudeness. But I incline toward his point of view.” The chief came a step closer to my bed and touched his forehead. “That piece of shrapnel you caught. The doctor tell you what it was?”
“No,” I said, confused by the change of subject.
“A splinter of Mr. al-Shaabi’s skull. Doctor thinks maybe it’s a tiny piece of his lachrymal.” The chief lowered his finger and touched the bridge of his nose, next to his eye. “Little bone right here. Although how the fuck he could tell with all that mess, I got no idea.”
I fought back the urge to vomit again.
“I mention it to make the point that you’re involved here, Mr. Wallace. You’re as involved as it’s possible to be. And there’s no skating away from that. The NYPD and the FBI and God only knows how many other agencies are going to be crawling all over this case and all over you. If I discover you’ve been lying to us, I’ll do my best to nail you for hindering prosecution and get you three hots and a cot courtesy of the city. The Feds are doing some interesting things with conspiracy law. They might be able to get you on that as well. You understand me?”
“Perfectly,” I managed.
“Good.” He turned to Reggie. “Walk me to the elevator, Irish. You and me got a few more