“Hmm,” he said.
“Tell him and hope he does?”
“Stress makes people screw up. I get him to go all-out volcanic, he could end up saying something I can use to convince John about a phone warrant on Doug’s other phone. Or phones, as the case may be.”
“You don’t need John for that.”
“Technically, no, but he’s holding me back, says if I get the info prematurely via a friendly judge, the kind of lawyer Doug’s likely to hire could shred it to inadmissibility then move on to a big-time fruit-of-the-poison-tree thing. If Doug actually goes bananas and blabs something incriminating, I’ll be on safe ground.”
“Before you talk to him, it would be good to know if he’s got links to New Orleans?”
“Hmm. Hold on.”
Several minutes of dead air.
“Hopes dashed again,” he said. “Nothing, at least not professionally. He’s never done a project anywhere in Louisiana. So what do you think about feeding him the uncomfortable truth about the necklace?”
“You could try.”
“Wanna be there?”
I said, “Never acquired a taste for lava but sure.”
An hour later I was in his office as he propped his cell against his monitor, switched to speaker, and made the call.
“You,” said Doug March.
Milo mimed a fingers-crossed vampire defense, then told him about the purple diamond.
Silence.
Seconds passed. Milo’s eyebrow arched. He picked up a pen and opened his pad.
More silence. The voice that finally came through was tremulous, barely audible.
“Oh no.”
“Sir—”
Doug March said, “What an idiot I was. Totally out of my element.”
Two exhalations.
Milo looked at me. I mouthed, “Wait,” and picked up a stack of Post-its.
Doug March said, “Okay. Now I can see why you held back on the jewelry. You were trying to shield me. Thank you. Sorry. For being a jerk.”
Whimper. Whine. The huff-huff of strangled breath followed by muffled sobs.
Milo mouthed, “What the?”
I wrote: Wait on a Post-it.
We sat there as March cried. Tried to catch his breath. Coughed. Finally succeeded. “Total. Jerk. Stupid. Sorry.”
I wrote: Limited sympathy.
Milo said, “It’s okay, sir.”
“It’s not okay,” said Doug March. “I need. To learn. This isn’t. The. First time.”
“You’ve been married before?”
“No. Girlfriends. College. Got played. Didn’t learn.” March moaned. “I need to learn. Need to.”
Milo said, “I’m sure you will.”
“Doesn’t look like it. Okay. Thanks.”
Ask what you want. Use his name.
Milo said, “Do you mind if I ask you a question on a whole other subject, Doug?”
Long sigh. “I did something else stupid?”
“Not at all. Do you know a man named Richard Barlett?”
“He’s the one? Who...”
“He may be another victim, Doug.”
“Of the one who?”
“It’s possible.”
“If you’re asking,” said March, “it’s more than possible, you don’t do things randomly. I see that now — sorry for what I said this morning, I was totally out of line.”
“No big deal, forget it,” said Milo. “So you don’t know Richard Barlett?”
“Never heard of him. Was he also one of Meagin’s... distractions?”
“There’s no evidence of that.”
“But the same person may have killed him.”
“Like I said, we’re looking into all possibilities. Here’s another name: Nicole Fontenot.”
“Sounds French.”
“From New Orleans. Ever been there?”
“In college,” said Doug March. “Spring break between freshman and sophomore.”
“So about ten years ago.”
“Let’s see... nine. Thought the place was gross.”
“How so?”
“Everyone out to exploit you.” March laughed harshly. “Like I’m the expert. Is there something else Meagin did besides the necklace and... you know?”
Milo said, “Not that we’ve found.”
“So far,” said March.
“So far. In terms of the jewelry—”
“Keep it, Lieutenant. All of it.”
“Can’t do that, Doug. It’s legally yours and you’ll get it back.”
“Then I’ll toss it straight in the trash,” said March. “Heh heh, no, I’m not that idiotic. But I certainly don’t want it near me. What would I do with it? Give it to another woman who’d... I’ll just give it to some charity.”
“That’ll be your decision,” said Milo.
“Decisions,” said Doug March. “I used to think I was good with them.”
“Doug, we all make mistakes.”
“Mine appear to be major.”
“It may seem that way but I’ve seen really smart people — like you — taken advantage of.”
“Appreciate that,” said Doug March. “What you’re trying to do.”
Milo said, “Now I’m going to ask you something that may upset you. If you want to say no, feel free.”
“What?” Resignation.
“How many phones do you use?”
“Two.”
“Would you have a problem letting me see all your phone records?”
“For what purpose?”
“To eliminate you as a suspect.”
March laughed. “I know you’ve suspected me from the beginning. My mother told me you would. She watches crime shows, says that’s what you people always do, go for the husband. She told me plenty of other things, too. E.g., what an idiot I was to marry Meagin without knowing anything about her. Also that she’d warned me and I’d been too headstrong to listen.”
“Sounds like a tough conversation.”
“I’m used to it, Lieutenant. The only problem I’d have giving you my records is that my business depends on the acquisition of knowledge requiring privacy and confidentiality.”
“We’ve got no interest in your business affairs, Doug. Just in anything that pertains to Meagin’s murder.”
“Like what?”
“No way to know until we view the records.”
Doug March said, “Okay, time to stop being a jerk. If you assure me the data won’t leave the station, I’ll believe you. I’ll have Randi Levine bring a printout over to your office. How far back do you need to go?”
“Say a year.”
“A year? I’m really not comfortable with that.”
Milo said, “How about Randi brings it over and we examine it in front of her.”
“You don’t need to take possession?”
“Not if it’s business-related, Doug.”
Silence.
“Why not,” said March. “Extricating myself from this mess is smart. I need to be smart.”
Thirty-eight minutes later, Randi Levine was standing in the doorway to Milo’s office bearing a tome of printout that she placed on his desk.
Milo said, “Thanks. Coffee or something else to drink?”
She shook her head. “Never been in a police station before. What did this place used to be, a closet?”
He smiled and turned to the printout. Flicked pages. “Lots of calls.”
She said, “Six thousand five hundred and fifty-six over the twelve-month period you requested.”
Milo said, “You counted.”
Randi Levine said, “I’m thorough.”
I pushed buttons on my phone.
Milo said, “Appreciate that, but this is way too much to go over while you wait. Please call Doug and ask if I can photocopy.”
She said, “He won’t like that,” but complied. Speed-dialing March, she began explaining, then handed the phone to Milo, who flipped it to speaker.
Doug March said, “You really need to, Lieutenant?”