by Jane Gorman
“No kidding. Todd said Jay always had extra money on hand. Though he wasn’t always willing to use it to pay the rent.”
A skateboarder came within arm’s reach of them. Adam felt the wind as the boy zipped by.
Ramona stood, wiping off the legs of her brown suit with her free hand. “Come on, let’s walk.”
Adam followed as she led the way north out of Dupont Circle toward Connecticut Avenue. “This is the way to the ambassador’s residence, isn’t it?”
“A little farther up, to the west. Not too far, really. Walking distance.”
Adam considered this as he sipped the last of his coffee. “And how far is Adams Morgan?”
Ramona looked sideways at him. “Adams Morgan? It’s up there”— she gestured with her coffee cup. “Farther up, off to the east a bit. Why do you ask?”
“Something Todd said last night.” He glanced at Ramona and caught her eye, then looked away. “Todd said Jay used to meet sometimes with a couple of shady characters on a street corner in Adams Morgan.”
Ramona frowned and raised her eyebrows. “Hmm. That doesn’t sound good. Did Todd know why?”
“Uh-uh.” Adam shook his head. “Just that he knew they met a few times. I’d like to know more about that.”
“I can see if I can find anything, but I’m not sure where to start on that one.” Ramona stepped to the side, around a young woman walking the other way, to toss her empty cup into a trash can. Adam watched the way her suit jacket clung to her body, pulled tight around her hips. She turned and caught him looking.
“You’re not in uniform again today,” he said.
She shrugged. “Figured we’d do better if I was a little less conspicuous, you know?”
Adam smiled. “So did you find anything more on our friend Towne?”
“I did, actually.” Adam caught the white glint of Ramona’s teeth as she flashed a smile. “He doesn’t have an alibi for the murder. And he has a licensed firearm.”
“Towne?” Adam asked, confused. “He definitely didn’t strike me as the type. And I thought he was working that morning.”
“He was. He was also late. I checked with his department chair. They had a staff meeting, he showed up about halfway through. And that’s not typical for him, either.” She pointed with her chin. “Up there, to the right. That would take us up to Adams Morgan. A few blocks up.”
Adam looked the way she indicated. Store fronts lined the street, little shops with awnings and A-frame signs. Stores selling books and beads, gourmet coffee makers and scented candles. He caught a whiff of incense from one as they passed close, and knew it was only being burned to block other, less legal smells.
“Huh. That’s interesting. You know, I spoke to the senator’s scheduler earlier. I have an appointment with the senator later this morning.”
“Sure.”
“I asked her about Towne. Since Todd mentioned the man practically camped out in front of the senator’s office.”
Ramona stepped sideways to avoid a young man running past them, racing for a bus that was pulling away from the curb. Adam grabbed her arm as she moved past him, then dropped it.
“Thanks.” She smiled up at him. “So did you learn anything else about Towne?”
“He was pretty insistent on seeing the senator. Before she left for Philly.” Adam answered Ramona but his eyes were still on the tall man in the leather jacket, who had turned to walk up the street toward Adams Morgan. The same man who had been in Dupont Circle earlier. He shook his head. It was a coincidence, surely. He turned back to Ramona.
“Hmm. Now that’s interesting.” Ramona narrowed her eyes as she considered this information. “Had he managed to schedule a meeting with her?”
“Nope. The scheduler said the senator’s calendar was booked, there was nothing she could do.”
“And I assume Towne didn’t take that too well.” Ramona’s lips narrowed into a tight line.
“You assume correctly. She said Towne kept insisting he had to see her — before she left town. He finally said if she couldn’t help him, he’d find another way to see the senator.”
“That’s even more interesting.”
“It doesn’t place him at the scene,” Adam pointed out.
“No, that’s true.” Ramona frowned, furrowing her brow. “I can check it out. I wanted to meet this Elise anyway, you know?”
“Good.” Adam tossed his empty cup into a trash can as they waited at the corner for the light to change. “I want to get your take on her, too, see if you can pick up anything else about her.”
“If Towne was there, he wasn’t alone,” Ramona added.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, Sam said the upstairs maid — Beth?” Adam nodded, and Ramona continued, “If Beth stepped out to meet with a young man, I seriously doubt it was Greg Towne.”
Adam laughed. “No, you’re right about that. I don’t see him romancing the help.”
Ramona grinned. “So we know there was someone there to see Beth. And we know Elise is hiding something, or someone, else.”
“If that someone else is Towne, then he was one of only two unknown men at the residence that morning,” Adam finished her thought.
She stopped walking to look up at him. “So I’ll stop back at the residence, then. I know Sam is planning to meet you up on the Hill later—” She cut herself off, following Adam’s eyes.
A black SUV had pulled up to the curb a few feet ahead of them. Adam watched as two men in navy blue suits got out, one from the front passenger side, the other from the back. The driver stayed in the car.
“Detective Kaminski?” one of the suits asked.
Adam nodded.
“Got a sec?” The man smiled, but Adam was quite sure this wasn’t a friendly invitation.
He glanced at Ramona, who stepped back. “We’ll catch up later,” she said as she turned away.
Adam followed the two men into the SUV.
“Thanks for joining us, Detective Kaminski.” The younger of the two agents, seated next to Adam, spoke first. The driver hadn’t turned around when Adam slid into the back seat.
“I didn’t get the impression I had much of a choice.” Adam kept his voice low, hiding his irritation.
“Well” — the young agent grinned — “we wanted to touch base, that’s all. I’m Special Agent Fitzpatrick, that’s Special Agent Liu. FBI.”
Liu turned around in the front seat. His black eyes blinked, but he didn’t smile. Or speak. He stared at Adam.
“And what can I do for you, gentlemen?” Adam smiled.
“We wanted to hear how you were doing. And how much longer you’ll be in town.”
Adam shrugged. “I don’t know. Is there anything you know that would affect my schedule?” He raised an eyebrow as he asked the question.
Fitzpatrick smiled, and Adam realized how young he really was. Practically a boy himself. An armed boy, he reminded himself.
“Look, I’m still looking into Jay Kapoor.” When the young man didn’t respond, Adam added, “The dead man? I’m meeting up with Sam Burke, Diplomatic Security, later this morning, over at Jay’s office.”
“You mean Senator Marshall’s office?” Fitzpatrick asked the question, but Liu turned and glared at Adam again.
“Yes, Senator Marshall’s office,” Adam answered slowly, nodding. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Fitzpatrick turned his lips down as he shrugged. “We’re getting the impression, Detective, that you’re not showing a whole lot of respect for the process, for the way we handle things here.” He raised an eyebrow at Adam. “Are you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“We got a call from Ambassador Saint-Amand. It seems you were in his house. Talking to his staff. Without his permission.”
So that’s what this was about. Turf. And maybe international relations, he had to admit, since he had technically conducted an investigation on foreign soil without permission. Adam shifted in his seat as he g
lanced first at Fitzpatrick, then at Liu, then back to Fitzpatrick.
Fitzpatrick grinned. “I take your silence as admission, Detective.”
“Okay, I was there.” Adam nodded. “Now what happens?”
“Nothing. Yet,” Fitzpatrick answered, but Liu snorted as Fitzpatrick spoke, making his disdain for the situation clear. Fitzpatrick glanced at Liu and grinned, then continued, “Apparently the ambassador doesn’t want to make an international scene out of this. Yet.”
He looked away from Adam, his attention on the pedestrians swarming along the sidewalk, moving to and from Dupont Circle. “He seems to like you, Detective. Though I can’t imagine why.”
Adam let his breath out. “That’s good. I’ll bear that in mind.”
“That’s not good, Detective. We don’t think there’s a lot you can add to this investigation.” Fitzpatrick turned back to face Adam and smiled broadly. “Especially if you’re going to run roughshod over the law. We appreciate you coming down, but perhaps it would be better if you wrapped things up here and headed back to Philadelphia.”
Adam looked at the man sitting next to him. Young. Bold. Cocksure of himself. Adam grinned. “I’m here on the instructions of my deputy commissioner, at the request of the DC police commissioner. I’m here to help, and I’ll share whatever information I can with you, but I’m not leaving until I have an answer for two grieving parents.”
Fitzpatrick grinned at this. “Of course, we’re happy to hear any information you have.” The way he spoke made it very clear he didn’t expect Adam to be able to provide them with anything they didn’t already know.
Adam simply nodded, but Fitzpatrick wasn’t done yet. “I think Special Agent in Charge Hennessy is going to have a conversation with your deputy commissioner, Detective. Just to make sure he still wants you down here.”
Adam bit his lip and his eyes narrowed. “You do what you have to do.” He pushed the car door open and stepped out into the traffic lane. A Volkswagen swerved to avoid him, its tires squealing. Adam looked back at the three agents in the car and slammed the door.
20
Sam shifted his weight, leaning back against the low stone wall. The white dome of the Capitol loomed behind him, but he kept his back to it, ignoring the flow of visitors who passed him heading in that direction.
To his right, the tip of the Washington Monument peeked over the top of the trees lining Constitution Avenue. If he turned left, he could follow the line of the street moving farther north into the residential area of Capitol Hill.
He checked his watch again, then slid his hand back into his pocket. One of the blue-jacketed armed guards from the Russell Senate Office Building stepped out from the entrance and made his way down the marble steps. His eye caught Sam standing there, and he paused. Even in a suit, a black man hanging on a street corner still managed to draw attention. Sam shook his head and looked back toward the Mall.
When he glanced back at the building, the guard had moved on. Adam was coming down the street toward him, along Delaware Avenue from Union Station.
Sam pushed himself up. When the light changed, he jogged across the street to meet Adam at the bottom of the steps. “You’re late.”
“Sorry about that.” Adam followed Sam through the thick double doors of the building’s main entrance as he answered, “Ramona’s back at the ambassador’s residence, talking to the staff again. We think Towne may have been at the residence that morning after all.” He cut himself off as they approached the guard’s station and showed their IDs.
The oldest of the Senate offices, the Russell Senate Office Building opened up before them into long hallways running the length of the building and surrounding an internal courtyard. Sam had been here before for other meetings and he led Adam through a maze of side hallways to a staircase.
“I’ve known Ramona for a long time now, you know?” He looked back at Adam, following him up the stairs. “Her dad was my partner. And my mentor. In MPDC.”
“Yeah, she mentioned that. Good guy, huh?”
“The best. I still go to him when I need help. Or guidance.” Sam glanced at a directional panel then turned left. “I talked to him yesterday, to see if he can find us anything on the ambassador’s staff.”
Adam frowned. “Good thinking. I’m sure he’ll keep Ramona in the loop.”
Sam grinned. “Those two are like peas in a pod. Even if they didn’t look alike, you’d know she was a second version of him, I’ll tell you. She’s a great cop, like he was. And a strong woman.” He stopped walking and turned back to Adam. “She’s important to me, you see? I’m responsible for seeing that she’s okay, and I take that seriously.”
Adam stopped short, a step away from Sam. “What are you trying to tell me, Sam?”
“Just to be careful of her, that’s all. Look” — he looked up and down the hallway, then back at Adam — “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and I don’t care. Don’t let it interfere with the job. And don’t let it put her at risk. That’s all.”
Adam smiled. “I’m one hundred percent focused on the job, Sam. And I’m too old to be taking any risks. You don’t need to worry about her, I promise.”
“Hmm,” Sam grunted as he turned toward the senator’s suite.
The oak door off the main hallway opened into an old office that now served as the entrance to a warren of connected rooms running along the side of the building. The original layout for this building had included two offices for every senator, but these had long since been redesigned and connected, creating suites with series of work spaces, each opening off the other.
A young woman sat at a paper-strewn desk against the far wall. Her pale, peaked face was surrounded by a wave of light, almost white, hair. Behind her, a row of windows looked down over Delaware Ave. She looked up as they entered. “May I help you?”
“Detective Adam Kaminski, here to see Senator Marshall. She’s expecting me.”
The young woman shifted some papers on her desk to reveal an oversized calendar. “Detective Kaminski, yes, you’re on her schedule. And you are?” She looked expectantly at Sam.
“Sam Burke, Diplomatic Security. We’re working with the FBI on Mr. Kapoor’s murder.”
“Oh.” The woman frowned and shifted more papers across her desk. “I’m not sure, Mr. Burke. Are you also a constituent of the senator’s?”
“A constituent?” Sam grinned. “I’m an investigating officer, ma’am. We’re here as part of that investigation.”
“I’m sorry.” She shrugged, though she didn’t look particularly apologetic. “The senator agreed to see Detective Kaminski because he is a constituent and it was at the request of the Kapoors, themselves prominent constituents.”
“And donors, right?” Sam’s grin had hardened. “Look, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll wait while Detective Kaminski speaks with the senator. How’s that?”
The young woman smiled and stood from her desk. “Then you can follow me, sir.”
Adam glanced back at Sam as he followed the woman through one of the doors to the right. Sam shook his head, eyebrows raised. Adam nodded and kept walking.
Walking over to the window, Sam glanced down at the park across the street. The cherry blossoms had long since faded, the leaves on the trees now a dark green. He turned back to the space in front of him. He wasn’t about to poke through anyone’s desk, he knew better than that, but he saw no reason not to look around. He headed out through one of the doors to the left.
“With his attitude toward immigration, I’m surprised no one has taken a shot at him before now.” Senator Marshall smiled sweetly as she spoke, one hand resting gracefully on her lap, the other holding a small china cup. She took a sip of the coffee, then replaced the cup on the low, round table in front of her.
Sitting across from her in her office in a matching leather armchair, Adam frowned. “So you’re fairly confident Ambassador Saint-Amand was the intended target, then?”
Lisa Marshall’s smile faded, h
er bright red lips puckering, the creases in her forehead sparkling slightly from overly applied powder. “I suppose that must be it. Cold comfort to the Kapoors. I feel so badly for them, I really do.”
Adam nodded, doubting her sincerity more with every word. “Losing a son is never good, whether he was an innocent bystander who got in the way or if the killer was aiming for him.” Adam was about to say more, but the expression on the senator’s face stopped him cold.
“Don’t.” She shook her head, one time, very slightly.
“Senator?”
Her face was a mask. A parody of the lies parents tell their children to stop them from making funny faces. As if she had tried to stop herself from frowning, then froze halfway through. “Don’t talk to me about losing a child, Detective.” The words forced their way through her tight lips.
“Senator, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” There was nothing more Adam could add to that. He stopped talking.
She sat and stared at him. Adam could only imagine the turmoil going on inside her. If it was there, she covered it up. Nothing of her inner struggle showed through the mask her features had become.
A cloud passed over the window, dimming the light for a moment. A phone somewhere rang, ignored. Lisa Marshall sat still.
Then everything changed. As if someone had snapped their fingers or a veil dropped, her muscles released. She reached a steady hand out and took another sip of her coffee. “I don’t believe Jay was the intended target. Not Jay. Absolutely not.”
Adam pretended to ignore the transformation he’d just seen. “And how about you, ma’am? How can you be sure the shooter wasn’t aiming at you?”
Senator Marshall smiled, as if completely relaxed. “I’m a politician, Detective. If someone doesn’t like me, he can always vote me out of office.”
“If he’s your constituent, that is,” Adam said. “I have noticed you’re not quite as accessible to people from outside your legislative district.” He pulled his lips into a tight smile.