Extra bit of business, thirty seconds. She was a chronic insomniac, able to sleep undisturbed only about one night in four. That’s why she had been sitting there by the telephone, reading a novel, when I called.
I knew everything about her by the time the waitress brought our breakfasts. What more do you need to know about anyone, until the chips are down and you discover that you never knew anything at all?
“I’m ready to tell you about Slater,” I said.
“Why the change of heart?”
“Because the circumstances have changed and I want something back from you. Isn’t that how life works?”
“If it’s an even trade, sure. Is the Slater story worth anything?”
“I think you’ll find it interesting. The entertaining part is trying to figure out where it’s heading. It’s still unfolding, as you newsies might put it.”
“The terminology is breaking . I don’t do breaking stories anymore.”
“I think you’ll do this one.”
“So what do you want for it?”
“A lot less than you paid for the Space Needle. Are we off the record yet?”
“If that’s how you want it.”
I threw in a zinger, to test her dedication to the code. “Don’t take offense at this, but how do I know your word is good?”
She did take offense: she bristled in her chair, and for a moment I thought she might pick up and walk out. “I’ll tell you the answer to that, but you’re only allowed to ask it once. You can check me out with a phone call. I worked in Miami for four years. I went to jail down there over just this kind of stuff.”
“Really?” I said in my most-interested voice. “How long were you in?”
“It was only ten days. My paper made it a frontpage embarrassment for them and they were glad enough to see me go. I might still be there, though, if they hadn’t gotten their information from someone else.”
“That’s okay, ten days is long enough. At least you know the taste of it.”
“The taste, the smell, the color. It colors your whole life. But I’ll go back again before I let them make me betray…even you.”
“Hey, I believe you. In a funny way, though, it makes what I’m trying to do more difficult.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not quite ready to go on the record yet. But I can’t even explain the situation to you off the record without handing you a piece of my legal jam.”
“What kind of legal jam?”
“There was a crime done tonight. A bad one.”
“Did you do it?”
“No, ma’am, I did not.”
“Then…”
“I did some other stuff, stupid stuff that will not make them love me. If the cops don’t love you, you need something in your corner besides a motive, the means, and no alibi. You’d look good in my comer. But you need to know the risks.”
Warily, she said, “Can you tell me in general terms what happened?”
“Generally speaking, two people got killed. I’ve been busy all night destroying evidence and obstructing justice. They’ll almost certainly charge me with that, but at least I can bail out on it. That’s my magic word right now, bail . I have this compelling need to be out. I’ve got to be out.” I let a long pause emphasize that point for me, then I said, “But over the last two hours I’ve come to realize that the magnitude of my fuckup may make that impossible. I’ve got a growing hunch they might start taking my measurement for the murder rap.”
She let out her breath slowly, through her nose. I saw a slight shiver work its way across her shoulders.
“That’s it in a nutshell,” I said. “I’m still trying to figure out how to handle it. I need to do that before I can get into the story or tell you what I want from you.”
“I don’t think it’s a problem. I’m not legally obligated to tell the police what you tell me.”
“I can see a situation, though, where they’d call you in and ask some questions you’d rather not answer.”
“I’ll claim privilege.”
“And end up in jail again.”
“Maybe I’ll take that chance, if the story’s worth it.”
“The story’s worth it. But between the two of us, we may still have to dig for the end of it.”
She looked out into the rainy street, just now awash with the palest light of morning. I floated a hint of what I hoped she could do for me.
“I’m hoping you know a great cop in this town, or a DA with a real head on his shoulders. The closer you’d be to such an animal the better.”
“I’m not sleeping with anybody right now,” she snapped. “If I was, I sure wouldn’t use him that way.”
“You’re touchy as hell at five o’clock in the morning, aren’t you? You should learn to sleep better.”
“Janeway, listen to me. You and I may become the best of pals, but we won’t get to first base if you keep dropping insults on my head.”
“And we’ll never get anywhere if you’re one of those politically correct types who takes offense at everything. I’m no good at walking on eggs. Do you want to hear what I meant or sit there and be pissed off?”
“Tell me what you meant, maybe I’ll apologize later.”
“I may need to turn myself in. If I do, all this is a moot point, you can do anything you want with it. But I’d at least like to be talking to my kind of cop, not one of those tight-asses who thinks the first mistake I made happened way back in Denver, when I quit the brotherhood.”
She didn’t say anything.
“The Rigby girl’s gone. I have good reason to believe that the killer may have taken her. I want to be out looking for her: I need to be looking, I really can’t overstate that. I will come totally unzipped sitting in a jail cell. All humility aside, I’m still the best cop I know. I’m not saying Seattle will give her a fast shuffle, but I know how it is in these big departments, I know how many cases those boys have to clear. I’m here, I’m focused, I’m looking for Eleanor, and I’ll open all the doors.”
I took a deep breath, which became a sigh. “But I’m far from home, I’m being slowly driven crazy by this rain, and I know nobody here but you. The cop in me wants to tear up this town looking for her, but I’m not even sure yet where the doors are. And if that kid winds up dead and the real cops could’ve prevented it while I’m out playing policeman…”
We looked at each other.
“I’ll tell ya, Trish, I’d find that damn near impossible to live with.”
She answered my sigh with one of her own, but it was a long time coming. “You want it both ways. It can’t be done.”
“If it can’t be done, I go in—no arguments, no questions. Her welfare is the first priority.”
“Maybe you should go in. Can you really do her any good out here by yourself?”
“I might surprise you. I really was a decent cop. With me looking too, her chances would have to go up. I don’t know, I’ve got to try. But there isn’t much time.”
I droned on, summarizing the immediate problem. The cops had to be told about Rigby now, this morning, before they closed down the scene. In a homicide investigation, every minute wasted on the front end is critical. I looked at my watch: I had already blown three hours.
“Let’s make it very clear, then, what you want from me and what kind of restraints I’m under,” she said. “As it stands now, I can’t even ask the cops an intelligent question.”
“That’s why I was hoping you knew somebody.”
“That I was sleeping with the chief of police, you mean. Sorry, Janeway, no such luck. I don’t drink with them or eat lunch with them, I don’t backslap or schmooze or let them tell me dirty jokes. My relationship with these guys is respectable but distant. It’s extremely professional and I’ve taken some pains to keep it that way.”