“That’s why I wanted to catch up for lunch today,” Nick continued. “I’m catching the next flight out of DIA and probably won’t be home until tomorrow night. Depending on what happens, I might stay an extra day. Thanks for catching up on short notice, by the way.”
Over the last three months, Jenny McFadden had become Nick’s dearest friend. He knew the true test of friendship occurred during the difficult times. By that measure, Jenny McFadden was an angel amongst mortals. She was there for him, period. He did not always understand why, but he appreciated it.
“No problem,” she bubbled. “I had to be downtown anyway. And before you go away, I have the joke of the day.” Jenny beamed as Bill pulled in tight, too. At the Shamrock, traditions were always honored, even at lunch time.
A man walks into a bar, sits down, and orders a drink.
"Hey, nice tie!" comes out of nowhere. He looks up at the bartender to see if he had said anything, but since he was on the other side of the bar the man ignores it.
"Hey! Nice shirt!" The man looks up but, again, the bartender is engaged elsewhere.
"Hey! Nice suit!" The man then calls the bartender over and asks him if he keeps talking to him.
"It's not me,” he replies, pointing at the bowl by the customer’s beer, “it's the complimentary peanuts."
This is where it gets a little fun, Nick mused, juggling the cell phone as he drove to DIA. Phyllis answered on the fourth ring, the last one before voicemail.
“Hi Nick, what’s up?” Phyllis answered, sounding fake-enthusiastic.
“Hi, honey.” Nick matched her fake enthusiasm. “I’m heading to DIA. I have to be on a plane at 4:30 for Seattle for this new investigation we have going. Are you back in Denver yet?” Nick knew she wasn’t. The Governor was not scheduled to be back until tomorrow or the next day, and Nick knew that Phyllis was with the Governor. He had known for months.
Phyllis enthusiastic voice faded quickly, “No, Nick, I’m not,” she snapped. “This conference doesn’t end until tomorrow.”
“But you’re not speaking again, right?”
Phyllis exhaled heavily. “I know you and I aren’t the best of friends right now, but this is really shitty of you to try to get even with me.”
Nick knew he was acting immaturely, but he couldn’t help himself. A little bit of revenge is a good thing.
“It’s unfortunate you think that’s what this is about.” Nick smiled as he spoke. “But I have to be in Seattle first thing tomorrow for this investigation. I need you to get home tonight. I’ve already made arrangements to have Nicky and Michelle picked up, so all you need to do is be home by bedtime. I was thinking since your speaking engagement was at 9:00 yesterday morning, you’d already be headed home.”
At that point, the cell signal faded. Nick had timed it perfectly. He knew exactly where on Pena Blvd. the signal always dropped. Not wanting to turn his kids into a personal battle ground, Nick had also made contingency arrangements to have a friend stay with the kids. At their age, they were pretty low maintenance—just needing a little transportation, food, and occasionally direction. But Phyllis was their mom, no matter who she was fucking. It was time for her to do her job.
“Fuck, fuck, that guy’s a fucking asshole,” Phyllis fumed, banging her cell phone on the corner of the bed.
The Governor sat up, bare-chested and bemused. “What was that all about?”
“That jackass getting even with me, that’s what it was about. When I was heading out of town, I called to tell him I had to come here. Now he’s pulling the same thing. Shit.”
“It’s okay. C’mon, let’s have one more round before you have to head for the airport.”
Jesus, this guy is insatiable, Phyllis mulled—and that’s not a bad thing. She smiled and dug in.
An hour later, ready to leave, she said, “We’re going to have to figure this out at some point.”
The Governor looked at her, pondering the same thing, but not necessarily the same result. “I know, but for now let’s enjoy our teenage years.” He laughed.
“You’re right. I’m always too serious. But I do have to go. When will you be home?”
“I’m meeting with Governor Smith tomorrow and going to a dinner with her and a few other folks tomorrow night, so I should be headed back day after tomorrow. I’ll catch up with you when I get back.” He was already rolling out of bed and heading to the shower.
She walked over and pecked him on the cheek. “Bye.”
Friday ⌁ day 5
After a restful, Phyllis-free night of sleep in a downtown Seattle hotel, Nick arrived at Seattle Police Headquarters at 9:00 a.m. sharp. He checked the directory, proceeded to the fourth floor, and asked for Detective Anthony Jinx who was the lead investigator on the child pornography busts. Bosworth let Nick know he’d had a long conversation with Jinx’s boss. While the Seattle chief was not overly enthusiastic about getting back into the unseemly mess, he conceded it was appropriate and probably necessary. He would make Jinx available to Nick.
“He’ll be out in a moment,” the receptionist said.
Nick wandered around the waiting area. While he was meeting with Jinx, Kelly Barela was setting up meetings for him with some of Steven Blair’s family members. Nick would talk to two or three of them, then see if it was necessary to stay another night to interview others.
“Detective Lynch?” a voice boomed.
Nick turned to greet a goliath. Jinx seemed about six-foot-seven and 350 pounds, with very little fat. Nick stuck out his hand and it was immediately engulfed. And then he remembered. The Jinx. Drafted in the first round by the Seahawks twenty years earlier, The Jinx was projected to be the new breed of offensive lineman. Tall, muscled, fast, quick, and smart. The Seahawks experimented with The Jinx playing fullback and tight end. But The Jinx was jinxed. First, his knees would not hold up. Then he battled substance addiction as he tried to rehabilitate. And, finally, he suffered a gruesome fracture of his tibia on Monday Night Football. Less than two years later, The Jinx experiment was declared a failure, and The Jinx was out of football.
“Nick Lynch,” he offered.
“Detective Jinx. C’mon back and let’s see if we can get you fixed up here.” Nick followed the giant down the hall. Jinx moved quickly, and the building seemed to shudder under the motion.
Jinx led Nick into a small conference room. They both sat, and Jinx started without preamble.
“I appreciate why you’re here. I understand you need to solve a murder case, and this is a logical starting point. But I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to help you much here.”
“Call me Nick.” Jinx showed no reaction. “Detective Jinx—”
“Call me Tony, Nick.” Jinx was a non-emotive giant.
“Tony. I need to figure out who killed Steven Blair. Given his history and where we found him, I’m following the hunch that his involvement in child pornography had something to do with his demise.” Jinx wasn’t giving anything, he simply let Nick talk.
Nick continued, “I came to Seattle to get a better grip on what was going on with this guy immediately preceding his death. After this, I’ll talk to his family, friends, business acquaintances, you know the drill.”
“You’re working on the assumption that Blair was heavily involved in child pornography?” Jinx asked.
“Wasn’t he?”
“As you know, we dropped charges against everyone,” Jinx countered.
“I read about all of that. I know it had to be difficult, and I can only imagine how you must have felt.”
“You have no idea,” the giant responded.
“But I’m not here to dredge all that up again. I don’t know what happened, but my suspicion is some BS legal thing kept you from doing what was best for this community. And regardless of that ridiculous outcome, I’m guessing you had the goods on Blair.” Nick looked at Jinx questioningly.
“We have to set some ground rules here,” Jinx said. “First, nothing you and I talk about e
ver gets repeated, anywhere, anytime. You can use it, but you can’t speak of it.”
Nick nodded agreement.
“I’m not kidding here, Lynch. It’s my ass if this shows back up in the papers. I’m not happy to be getting back into this in any form or fashion, but I do understand the need.”
“I can live with that.”
“Number two, I do this with you this morning, and that’s it. After that, I never see you again, I never hear from you again, I don’t dream about you, nothin’. I’ll do this right here, right now, but no more. If you can’t live with that, then you can go fuck yourself. Capisce?” Jinx glared at him. Jesus, I wouldn’t want this guy coming at me, Nick thought.
“Brother, that’s pretty hostile. I’m just trying to solve a murder here. What’s going on, Tony?”
“Listen, Nick, the details of what happened are really none of your concern. But this whole thing caused deep wounds in this community. The department was drug through a lot, and not to be too selfish, but me in particular. While I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I assure you, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Again, I’ll do this with you today, right now, but then we’re done. Agreed?”
“Agreed. Thank you, Tony.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Jinx said. “First of all, I hate to dash your hopes here, but I think you’re wrong. We were in the early stages of the whole child pornography ring, all of the investigation. One of the things that went wrong was that a young, overzealous detective got ahead of the rest of us, and charged out and made a bunch of arrests that never should have been made.”
Nick raised his eyebrows.
“Needless to say, Mr. I’m-A-Dumb-Ass-And-Have-To-Get-All-The-Credit is no longer with us. It’s a long story how it got so far down the path before anyone figured it out, but that’s for another day. Or not.” Jinx looked at Nick, almost menacingly, then continued.
“One of the people arrested in all of that mess was Steven Blair. I’ll go through what we have on this guy, but you ask me, he was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Nick wasn’t buying any of it, thinking it smacked of the Seattle PD covering their mishandling. But he would attempt to withhold judgment to see where it led. Jinx pulled out a thin file and flipped it open. He started scanning the pages, found what he was looking for, and pushed a paper over to Nick.
“Basically, what happened to Steven Blair occurred back in the heyday of porn shops, before porn was so common on the internet. One of our young, ambitious, dumb-ass vice-detectives, acting on his own, along with several street cops, raided Sin Haven. The way they set it up, Mr. Dumb-Ass and three of the more senior cops went into the shop and announced the raid, telling everyone in the shop to stay where they were. The other officers surrounded the building to make sure no one got out.”
Jinx shook his head and continued. “This is in the middle of the day, middle of the week, one of those up and coming neighborhoods, gentrification, or whatever kind of bullshit you call that. This place is full of a bunch of accountants and lawyers looking to buy porn to whack off. Most of the people in there were only guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“According to Mr. Blair, he was not working that day, so he was dressed pretty casually, blue jeans and a sweatshirt. Evidently, he was a regular at the shop, the counter people knew him, and so I guess they were pretty comfortable with him. In any event, he was looking for something, a plastic bag or one of those things you put DVD’s in, shit, I don’t know. The counter person had stepped away for a minute, so Blair’s behind the counter, bent over when Mr. Dumb-Ass comes charging through the door.
“Of course, everyone is told to freeze. This ain’t the Bronx out here; everyone froze. Mr. Dumb-Ass and his crew assume Blair is manning the store. They did a search, and, as we already knew from prior surveillance, they turned up a good deal of kiddie porn. They rush down to the station and charge Steven Blair with fourteen zillion counts of intent to distribute child pornography. I’ve met this guy. He’s a dork. Don’t get me wrong, he visited the ladies occasionally, you know, the pay-as-you-go types. He liked his pornography. But this guy wasn’t any more guilty of this than me.”
Jinx finished his soliloquy. Nick looked through the file and did not find any evidence to contradict the detective’s outline. But it still didn’t smell right to him.
Nick asked Jinx a few more perfunctory questions, spent some time going through the files to build a database of Blair’s known contacts, and bid him adieu.
“I’m serious, Lynch, I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“Deal’s a deal, Tony.”
Nick decided to go to the best source first. He knocked on the door.
After a few moments, Nick heard a voice from behind the door. “Who is it?”
“Ms. Blair, my name is Nick Lynch. I’m a Denver police detective, and I have a few questions I would like to ask you about Mr. Blair.”
The door opened, and Nick Lynch was stunned. He didn’t know what he had expected, but this was not it. Cynthia Blair was beautiful. Tall and model thin, her blonde hair cut fashionably long, skirting across her forehead and partially covering her left eye. She was wearing tasteful but not ridiculously expensive clothes, and was the picture of courtesy.
She invited Nick in, and he followed her down the hallway to the living room.
“Detective Lynch, is it?” Nick nodded. “Can I get you a cup of coffee or a soda?”
“No thanks, I grabbed a Starbucks on the way over.”
She sat, motioning to a chair for him. “What can I do for you?” Her eyes were piercing, clear, efficient. Nick sat, too.
“First, let me say how sorry I am for your loss.”
“Thank you. Steven and I had not been close for many years. We divorced three years ago. I’m sad, for him and for me, but I moved on from him some time ago.”
“Of course. Let me get right to the point. I’m a homicide detective from Denver.”
“Yes, I know. Detective Jinx called me about 10:30 and told me you might be dropping by.”
Interesting, Nick thought. “Sure, good.” He was clearly out of practice. Cynthia Blair had him off balance from the moment he showed up. He had to do better.
“Just a few questions and I’ll be out of your hair. I’m trying to find out who killed Mr. Blair. I thought it made sense to talk to people who were close to him.”
“Are you suggesting I’m a suspect?” she asked.
“No, of course not, no, I’m uh,” he stammered. Jesus, who’s interviewing whom here? I have to get a grip. Hell, maybe she should be a suspect.
“Ms. Blair, as the person that knew Mr. Blair best, at least at some point in his life, I thought it made the most sense to start with you. If I can get a broad view of him as a person and his activities from you, along with a little input and direction, I can probably narrow the investigation pretty quickly.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you, Detective, but I will be as helpful as I can. I must tell you, though, I have had almost no contact with Steven in the last two years.”
“That’s fine, Ms. Blair. Let’s start through this and see where we get.” She nodded approval.
“First, let me ask the most obvious question. Do you have any idea who might have killed Steven, or any thoughts on why he was killed?”
Cynthia Blair looked down, and Nick could tell she was on the verge of tears. Sometimes he hated himself and his job. He hated doing this to nice people.
“I’ve racked my brain going through this. Steven certainly had his shortcomings, but I have no idea why someone would have wanted to kill him.”
“I thought as much, but it’s always important to ask. We can cut through a lot of the other stuff if someone already knows the answer.” She nodded knowingly.
Nick led her down a path, familiarizing himself with Steven’s habits, his friends, his haunts. While she was not current on all of them, she was certain most had not changed within the las
t couple of years.
“Now Ms. Blair, the other thing I wanted to ask you about was some of Mr. Blair’s … proclivities.”
Cynthia Blair looked at Nick puzzled, then awareness came to her eyes.
“I’m a little dense sometime,” she smiled slightly. “The main reason Steven and I are divorced is because of those proclivities. Steven liked girls, hookers.” She looked down again.
“I don’t know what to tell you about that,” she continued. “I was raised very traditional. We’re Baptists, and while I’m not the most religious person in the world, I am a little naïve. The first time Steven got busted, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t understand. But Steven was the ultimate salesman. He apologized, brought me flowers, paid more attention to me, all those abusive behaviors. The thing that was so weird about it, at least with Steven, was that he really did love me. He was always good to me, always spent time with me. He wasn’t a bad guy, except he really, really liked hookers. It crushed me; I never could understand it.”
Cynthia Blair kept looking down. The memories were painful, the wounds still festering, however far below the surface they were at this point.
“I loved him, Detective. I never could understand why I wasn’t enough. I still don’t understand that. We had a good sex life. But it wasn’t enough for him.”
Nick was surprised at how forthcoming she was. He decided to press further. “What about the pornography? I understand he may have had a little compulsion there, too.”
Cynthia Blair slowly looked up. Her eyes had changed, and her face. Now she was glowing a bit, mischievous, conspiratorial. “You know, I do consider myself a good Baptist. But a little naughty fun occasionally is not a bad thing.”
Again, Nick was caught off guard. He took a moment to compose himself this time before he responded. He decided to get her a little off balance as well.
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