Calderone had been able to hear Hammer. "Radio station'll be next."
Elizabeth frowned. "Are there no secrets in this town?"
"That's whaddya call it, rhetorical, right?" Hammer asked.
She raised and lowered both eyebrows twice. "Yes. When he calls back, tell him I will talk to him, but not until later this afternoon. If he gives you a hard time, remind him I know he's not on deadline." She hung up.
Calderone stood. "We have the tapes, but I took some notes. I'll start writing them up and you can look at them."
Before he reached the door, someone knocked quietly. "Chief Friedman?"
"It's open, Ms. Ryan. Come in."
Calderone took his seat again.
Elizabeth gestured to a chair next to Calderone.
"I know we agreed you'd interview them separately next, but we've just learned something else you may want to know."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.
"Not specifically related to Ms. Simpson, some things that go on, or went on, in the laundromat."
Elizabeth stood. "Sure." She glanced at Calderone. "Join me, please."
When they were all seated in their respective places in the conference room, Elizabeth said, "What's up, gentlemen?"
Herbie began. "So, do you maybe know why Finn Clancy came in the laundromat's back door?"
"I will if you tell me," Elizabeth said.
"So, sometimes he sold stuff there," Jenson said. "Didn't want people to pay a lot of attention to him."
"What kind of stuff?" Calderone asked.
Herbie said, "As far as I know, it's all pot, in little baggies."
"I mean," Just Juice said, "you can buy it legal now, but it's still cheaper to get it home-grown."
"And better," Herbie said.
"May we strike that last point?" Ryan asked.
Elizabeth smiled. "It's not a trial, Ryan, but I won't infer anything from what Mr. Gibson said."
Zakorsky frowned. "I advised Mr. Jenson that this information is not pertinent to this case, but they insisted on talking to you about it."
"We want to help," Herbie said, and Just Juice nodded both of his chins.
"After Ms. Simpson's death, I learned that a couple of people had found empty baggies on the premises, though not often," Elizabeth said.
"Clancy grow it?" Calderone asked.
Both men shrugged. Herbie said, "Sometimes he sleeps in the woods."
Though Clancy could have been guarding plants, hikers traipsed through the local woods a lot. Somehow Elizabeth didn't think home-grown meant the edge of Logland.
"Just Clancy sell the stuff?" Elizabeth asked.
Jenson shook his head. "That guy Wessley kind of worked with Clancy on it. I think he provided the baggies. Not sure about if he grew the stuff."
So much for Blake Wessley being a reformed rabble-rouser.
Elizabeth studied her notepad and then looked from Herbie to Just Juice. "I just have one more question. Which one of you has the baseball pitcher's arm?"
"Excuse me?" Ryan asked.
"What are you talking about?" Zakorsky asked.
Herbie and Just Juice studied the table top.
Before Elizabeth could ask another question, Hammer opened the conference room door, without knocking. "Chief, you're needed at the hospital."
She half-turned to look at Hammer. "Can't you handle it?"
"Uh, one of the docs is hurt. They want you."
ELIZABETH KEPT HERSELF FROM stomping on the accelerator, and pulled into the spot near the hospital ER that was reserved for law enforcement. She ran inside. Before she got to the receptionist, the woman pointed toward the locked doors to the treatment area and activated a buzzer to let her in.
She walked more slowly as she approached the ER nurses' station, and locked eyes with the older nurse who was often on duty in the evening. Her badge reminded Elizabeth that her name was Frances.
"Evening, Chief. Doctor is with Skelly, but he'll be out in a minute, and you can go in." The nurse nodded to her left.
"What happened to him? Sergeant Hammer said he was injured somehow."
"I'm not sure. He had a head injury, and I believe it was not from a fall. He's kind of in and out of consciousness, but some of that might be the medicine." The phone near the nurse buzzed, and she picked it up and started talking.
Elizabeth sat on a stool on wheels and nudged it back to the wall so she could lean against it. Her heart beat less wildly now than it had a few minutes ago, and she drew a deep breath. You need to put your cop hat on. What the hell happened to Skelly?
A man's voice called, "Chief Friedman?"
Elizabeth recognized him as Dr. Evan Jessup, the hospital's medical director. Not someone she usually ran into in the emergency room. She stood and walked toward him. "Yes. How is he?"
Jessup did not smile. "Better than he was. He took a hard blow, but no skull fracture."
Her heart rate went up again. "I'd like to see him, and then I'll get someone else down here."
In a weaker-than-usual voice, Skelly called from his curtained cubicle. "Mahan's been in."
For a second anger rose, but she tamped it down. Mahan had waited to call Hammer until he knew what was going on.
Jessup pulled aside the curtain and indicated that Elizabeth should enter the cubicle. When she did, he pulled it shut and did not follow her.
Hands on her hips, Elizabeth surveyed Skelly. "This is quite a pickle you've gotten into, Ollie."
He smiled weakly at the Laurel and Hardy joke. "You're dating yourself."
"Are you kidding? That's classic comedy." She stood next to the gurney and grew somber. "What happened?"
He shut his eyes, but spoke. "I got off the phone with you because someone came into my suite, as you call it. I walked out of my office, and the guy was pulling a ski mask over his face."
"There to steal drugs?" she asked.
"There because he wanted the skin samples from Stanley Buttons. Very angry when I said they'd been sent elsewhere for examination."
"Good God." Elizabeth sat in a small plastic chair next to the gurney. "And he hit you? With what? Are you okay?"
"Big lump, mild concussion as you measure those. Blinding headache. Oh, double vision, so if I'm not looking you in the eye, you'll know why."
"A man? For sure?"
"Yeah, I gave Mahan as much of a description as I could. Not much, because of the mask."
The curtain surrounding Skelly peeled back with a metal-on-metal sound. Skelly winced. Elizabeth turned around.
Mahan looked sheepish. "Chief, I thought I should wait at least a few minutes, until I knew what was going on."
"Good choice." She didn't think so, but it's what she would usually do, too, unless there was immediate danger.
Elizabeth lowered her voice and spoke to Skelly. "I know you have that headache. I'll step away to talk to Mahan, and then come back."
She left the cubicle and walked a few yards away. She and Mahan stood next to a wall. "Did Skelly tell you what the perp used to hit him?"
"All he saw was a piece of wood, but like a handle. He thought the end the attacker held in his hand was some kind of tool. The guy held the tool end and walloped Skelly with the handle."
Elizabeth filed that away. Maybe she'd suggest Skelly take a walk through the hardware store when he felt better.
"What kind of description did you get?"
Mahan glanced at his pocket-sized notebook. "Sketchy. Sounds like a slim guy, maybe just under six feet. Skelly bases that on the fact that he was about as tall as the guy's chin." He looked up from his notes. “So if Skelly’s roughly five-nine, maybe the guy’s about six-two?”
"Could be. Clothes? The guy's coloring?"
"Clothes were dark, hands were gloved, and the ski mask, of course."
He started to say more, but Elizabeth raised a finger. Something flitted in and out of her brain. She snapped her fingers. "Slight build, maybe same height. Sounds like a man who was in Hy-Vee when
Stanley Buttons was. But he wasn't wearing a ski mask."
"Who saw him?" Mahan asked.
"A young clerk named Kimberly. At this point, I'd like her to come to the station to look at our book of local mug shots. Before this, nothing about the guy seemed that unusual. He's a customer she's seen there before."
"So, we should ask her to come down?"
"She's maybe eighteen, could be seventeen. I'd like her parents with her. Calderone's met her." Elizabeth shut her eyes for a second. "We have Herbie and Just Juice and their attorneys in the conference room. We won't call her to come down until we're done with them. Let Hammer know I'll be back in a few minutes."
Elizabeth walked back into Skelly's cubicle. "I feel bad, but I've got two murderers in the conference room, so I have to get back. What can I get you?"
"I'd say heavy painkillers, but I'm sure someone else will provide them. Can you turn off the overhead light?"
"Sure." Elizabeth did that. A small fluorescent bulb above a sink provided enough light. She stood next to Skelly's gurney. "They won't let you go home tonight, will they?"
"Nope."
"Have any fish that need to be fed?" she asked.
Skelly smiled, but without opening his eyes. "No to that, too."
"If they let you out tomorrow, I'll take you home. Or…you can sleep on my couch. I do owe you Christmas Eve dinner."
"Damn. I'll make sure they let me out tomorrow."
WHEN SHE ARRIVED AT the station, Hammer motioned that she should come to his desk. If she hadn't been upset about Skelly, she would have laughed at his furtive gesture. "What's up?"
"The woman attorney, Ryan I think it is," Hammer said.
"Yes."
"She said they're working on confessions. Want to work out some sort of deal."
"That's not up to me."
Hammer nodded. "They called someone at the local office of the State's Attorney."
"Damn it, we haven't gotten to Stanley Buttons yet."
"She started to say something about that, but then she said to call her when you got back."
Elizabeth nodded. "How ticked were they when I left?"
He shrugged. "I told 'em it was the medical examiner got hurt. The guy, Zakorsky, said something about what's Logland coming to?"
"I wish I knew." Elizabeth walked to the conference room and knocked lightly. When she walked in, the smell of nervous men almost overwhelmed her. She left the door to the hallway open.
"I'm truly sorry to have left."
"How's Skelly?" Calderone asked.
"Concussion." She took in the two attorneys. "I hear you want to talk to the State's Attorney staff?"
Ryan nodded. "If you will assign someone to accompany Mr. Gibson and Mr. Jenson, I think it would make more sense to meet over there." She hesitated. "Forms and such to sign are in the computers there."
"Sure. We're going to be stretched thin here for a few hours. I'm going to ask if their security staff can take over while your clients are in that office."
Elizabeth glanced at Herbie and Just Juice. She had seen them in the Bully Pulpit as jovial college guys. They would never be that again.
Herbie cleared his throat. "Chief, uh, I'm sorry about your window. You want me to fix it?"
Elizabeth ignored him and turned her attention to Calderone. "Unless we get another emergency in the next few minutes, I'd like you to accompany Mr. Jenson and Mr. Gibson, and then come back. I'll hang out in here for a few minutes so you can gather what you need."
A tired-looking Calderone stood from his seat at the table. "Good idea."
As he left, Elizabeth turned to Zakorsky. "You've already talked to someone in Donaldson's office?"
Both attorneys said yes.
Elizabeth turned to Herbie and Just Juice. "You don't need me to tell you how much easier this would have been if you'd have called us when it happened."
Herbie nodded. "We panicked."
Ryan added, "And got bad advice."
"They should be able to tell the difference between good and bad advice." Elizabeth again looked from Ryan to Zakorsky. "I'm figuring that last bit of discussion we had before I left may seem like a bargaining chip to you. I'm not waiting to act on it, but I'll acknowledge where I got the information when the time comes."
Hammer came in with four bottles of water. "Calderone will be about five minutes, maybe ten." He placed the bottles on the table.
"I need to step out to work on the hospital injury. If you need me before you leave, just let Sergeant Hammer know."
"Thank you, Chief," Ryan said.
Elizabeth thought a thank-you from Herbie and Just Juice was in order, but it wasn't forthcoming. She shut the door to the conference room and walked toward her office. Hammer stood outside it.
"Where's Calderone?" she asked.
"Gargling. He said the room stunk, and he thought the swishing might help get the smell outta his sinuses."
Elizabeth grinned. "It is rank in there."
Calderone walked out of the staff restroom, next to the break room. "I've questioned all kinds of perps, but those guys smell worse than all the others put together."
"Sorry I had to leave."
"Skelly okay?"
"Concussion, massive headache, double vision. But could have been worse."
Calderone swore. "What the hell did someone want from him?"
"The skin swabs from under Buttons' fingernails."
Neither Hammer or Calderone said anything for several seconds. Then Hammer said, "I guess we know Buttons' killer is still in town."
Elizabeth nodded toward the conference room. "And the guy is thin, so it's not either of those two bozos."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ELIZABETH SAT AT HER DESK Saturday evening for several minutes, simply thinking. Clancy sold pot, and may have done so in conjunction with Blake Wessley. Blake Wessley was the same build as the man in Hy-Vee and the person who attacked Skelly.
Wessley had been arrested in Logland previously, so his photo was on file. She'd have Hammer pull together a page of photos of white men with brown hair and ask Kimberly to look at it. If Wessley had been in Hy-Vee the night Stanley was murdered, Kimberly would likely recognize him.
Skelly might be able to identify the shape of the man who injured him, maybe the voice. But what was he hit with?
The hospital had many security cameras. Unless the attacker had walked into the lobby with a ski mask, he took it off somewhere in the building. She dialed the hospital and asked for security.
When she identified herself and asked about cameras, the man on the phone said, "Two steps ahead of you, Chief. This is Randall Watson. We've met briefly a couple of times."
"Sure, hospital open house last year."
"Yep. I'm pulling a lot of video. We don't have much of a description, but I'm tagging everyone in dark clothes, kind of tall."
"Slim, too, I think Skelly said."
"Roger that. I'll send over a DVD in an hour or two."
"There is a chance that the same person killed Stanley Buttons. And a slight chance that I may get an ID on someone who was in the grocery store with Stanley not long before he was killed."
Watson whistled softly. "Be good if we could get it all to come together."
"And without anyone else getting hurt or killed."
ELIZABETH SAT AT HER desk at six-thirty eating a piece of cold pizza and going over notes from the day – hers and those of the other officers. Mahan had talked to hospital staff who worked in a lab of some sort that was on the basement level with the autopsy space. None had heard anything or seen anyone leaving Skelly's area at about the time he was attacked. No cameras in the basement.
She tossed the crust of her piece of cold pizza into the trash can next to her desk and stood to stretch. She'd sent Hammer and the rest of the day staff home. She would have left by now, but Kimberly Hamilton and her parents were due at seven.
Elizabeth moved to the bullpen just as someone came in the front door. Though s
he'd only met him once, she thought he was Randall Wilson from the hospital.
He held up an envelope about half the size of a piece of copy paper. "Thought I'd drop off the disk myself. Too big a file to email."
"That's great. Come on back." She strode to the counter and motioned to the short, swinging door that led behind the counter.
"I'm on my way home." He handed the disk across the counter to her. "I don't think you'll find much."
"No one looks like our guy?"
"One person might be. He's seen getting off the first-floor elevator at the right time, and he has on black pants and a dark parka. No ski mask, of course, but he looks down, wears a ball cap with a brim, and sunglasses."
Elizabeth accepted the disk. "Sunglasses?"
"Didn't look that odd, since he was headed toward the exit. Someone passing him would think he'd put them on just before leaving the building."
Elizabeth tried to tamp down her disappointment. "Get a sense of age?"
Watson shrugged. "He walks briskly, so I thought younger rather than say seventy. His face isn't visible at all."
Elizabeth shook her head. "Oh well…hey, I realize there is one important thing I don't know. Who found Skelly?"
Watson grinned. "He found himself. There's an internal phone on a small table next to the chairs in that small waiting room of his. I heard he never really lost consciousness. Pulled the phone to the floor by its cord and dialed the hospital operator."
"That was lucky."
Watson nodded. "At least he didn't have a long trip to the ER."
KIMBERLY HAMILTON AND BOTH parents arrived at the station about seven o'clock.
"I really appreciate you folks coming in on a Saturday evening," Elizabeth said.
"Anything to keep this moving," Kimberly's father said.
On the conference room table, Elizabeth had placed a thermal pitcher of hot water, tea bags, sugar, and hot chocolate. She wanted to put the young woman and her parents at ease.
Kimberly glanced at the table. "You remembered I like hot chocolate."
Elizabeth smiled. In fact, she had forgotten that's what they had drunk at Hy-Vee. "We appreciate your help, it's the least I can do."
Kimberly's father had a florid face and thinning hair. His rumpled clothes said fifty, but his relatively unlined face put him closer to forty. "We don't mind helping, but our biggest concern is whether Kimberly is in any danger."
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