Chapter 10

 

“Deidre Cleridge?”

The slim waitress turned toward Harvey and eyed him suspiciously. “I’m Deidre Cleridge Martin.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were married now.” He tried to give her the smile that got Jennifer every time.

“What do you want?”

“I’m Harvey Larson, from the Portland P.D.”

“Oh, yeah, I thought you looked familiar.” She measured coffee into the basket of a large coffee maker. “What brings you to Yarmouth?”

“You, actually.”

Her surprise was plain, but she hid it quickly. “How can I help you?”

“It’s a delicate matter. Will you be having a break soon? I’d like to speak with you privately for a few minutes.”

She glanced at the clock. “Now’s as good as ever, I guess. Hold on.”

She disappeared through a swinging door and came back almost immediately. “Okay, my boss says we can use his office. Follow me.”

Harvey went with her to the entry of the restaurant, then into an alcove, around a corner past restrooms, and into a small, cluttered office.

“You want to sit?” she asked.

“Thanks.” Harvey sensed she was uncomfortable in her employer’s office, and he took the chair behind the desk. Deidre sat down on the edge of the only other chair. She was pretty, he thought. Her red hair, green eyes and pale skin combined with finely-chiseled features would make her stand out. “Mrs. Martin, you were employed by the Portland P.D. for several weeks, about a year and a half ago.”

She nodded.

“Why did you leave?”

She sighed. “It was personal. I … decided I wasn’t cut out to be a cop.”

“You made it through the Academy. You still wanted the job then.”

“It was tough.”

“Did someone make it tough for you?”

She looked at him sharply. “You must have read my record. You know I filed a complaint against my sergeant.”

“Yes. The record says that was resolved.”

“Huh.” She held out one hand, examining her nails.

“The deputy chief reprimanded Sergeant Lyons,” Harvey said.

“So I was told.”

“And?”

“Why does it matter now?” She was analyzing him, and Harvey knew she was intelligent. He waited. “You’ve had another complaint,” she said with certainty.

“What happened after you made your harassment complaint?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Will you bust him? Or will you reprimand him again and tell the woman who complained to get with the program?”

Harvey lowered his eyes. “I’m very sorry for what you went through. I wish things had been handled differently. It’s my job to make sure they’re handled better this time.”

She eyed him speculatively. “I would love to see that man go down.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Shouldn’t you be taping this?”

Harvey was startled. “You really hate him, don’t you?”

“Yes. I’ll give you a statement. I’ll testify, if it comes to that. Two weeks after the complaint was supposedly settled, Brad Lyons cornered me in the parking garage. He said I was in for a bad time as a rookie, and I’d better watch myself.”

“He insinuated—”

“Oh, he more than insinuated. He backed me up against the wall and fondled me, if you can call it that when the man is threatening you.”

Harvey shook his head. “You didn’t complain again?”

“Oh, yes. I went straight back to the deputy chief. He had the audacity to ask me if I had a grudge against Sergeant Lyons because he had snubbed me.”

“Snubbed you?” Harvey asked, confused.

“Seems good old Brad told Neilsen I had the hots for him. He ignored me, so I made the first complaint out of spite. The woman scorned, you know. When he got away with a slap on the wrist, I had a hissy fit and decided to complain again.”

“And you think the deputy chief bought this story?”

“I know he did. He told me Sergeant Lyons had an exemplary record, and if I tried to make trouble for him again, I’d be guilty of insubordination. The whole thing was so sordid. I went home and cried and decided I was a little bit afraid of the two of them. I also decided I’d had enough.”

“Did you tell anyone else at the time?”

She shook her head. “My partner was a man. No sympathy there. I quit and went home to my parents’ for a while. Then I met Frank Martin. I decided not all men were worthless, after all.”

Harvey closed his notebook. “Just cops.”

 

*****

Harvey drove back to Portland, ruminating on Deidre Martin’s disturbing story. He went over his notes with Eddie.

“She’s agreed to come down here Wednesday morning and tape a formal statement.”

“So, where does this put us in the harassment case?” Eddie asked.

“I’ll see what Cheryl’s turned up. This thing about Neilsen bothers me. Chief Leavitt is dead, so we can’t get his input. Mike swears he was out of the loop, and I believe him.” Harvey sighed. “I wish she had some witnesses. I hate this case.”

“Debbie Higgins says Joey was going to look into it.”

“I know. I really hate that part.”

Eddie’s brown eyes focused on something beyond the room, and Harvey knew he was working out the worst-case scenario.

“This thing with Neilsen,” Eddie began.

“It’s the second time his name’s come up,” Harvey agreed.

“Have you talked to Candi in Records yet?”

“Not yet. Tomorrow, maybe.”

“Would we bring Neilsen back from Massachusetts for something like this?”

Harvey scratched his chin. “Maybe I’ll ask Mike to call someone in Framingham for a progress report on their chief of police. I guess I’d better clue Brad in, too. He’s going to know something’s up with all the female personnel parading up here for interviews this week.” For the first time, he noticed a glitter in Eddie’s eyes that had been lacking for weeks. “Hey, how’s Leeanne? Have you heard from her today?”

Eddie smiled. “She liked the flowers, Harv.”

“Fantastic.”

“Now for Phase II?” Eddie asked.

“Let it sit for a while,” Harvey advised.

“You don’t think I should go over there tonight?”

“We may be here all night.”

“Really?”

“Well, not all night, but I need to spend some time going over the statements we have so far, and I’m afraid I’ve got to talk to Brad before this goes any further.”

“Maybe I should go over and see my mother later,” Eddie said.

“Sure. Let Leeanne enjoy her white roses and dream a little.”

 

*****

Harvey leaned on the corner of the sergeant’s desk. “Brad, can I see you for a minute?”

“Half a minute, maybe. We’re right out straight. Ron’s boys busted a chop shop, and two of my patrolmen brought in a carload of kids skipping school and smoking crack. The booking room’s full, and I’ve got four in holding.”

“Well, I’ll try to keep it short.”

Brad tossed his pen down. “Okay, talk.”

“Maybe you’d like to step upstairs?”

“I don’t have time, Harvey. What is it?”

Harvey glanced around. “It’s a little sensitive.”

“All right, all right, let’s go.”

Brad stood up and Harvey went ahead of him to punch the buttons on the security keypad at the door to the lobby. They stepped across to the stairway, and he paused to punch the code for that door.

“When are we going to get a card system?” Brad asked. “I get so tired of trying to remember fifty-odd thousand different numbers.”

“That would be expensive.” Harvey started up the stairs, but Brad stopped at the bottom. “Look, can’t you just tell me here, or do I really have to climb two flights of stairs?”

Harvey turned and looked down at him from the third step. “Sorry, I thought we could sit down and discuss this.”

“I’m telling you, Harvey, I’m swamped today. What is it? You got a problem with one of my guys?”

Harvey sighed. “Look, Brad, you’re being investigated.”

Brad stood very still, staring up at him through narrow slits of eyes, and Harvey was glad he was above him, and not too close.

“What the—”

“Easy, now. I need to notify you that you’re under investigation in a personnel matter.”

“What for?”

Harvey could imagine how menacing the tall, stern sergeant would seem to a new recruit, especially a woman, though Brad could turn on a suave charm when he chose to.

“We’ve had allegations of sexual harassment.”

Brad swore and slumped against the wall beside the closed door.

“We’ll be talking to you about it—”

“Who’s we?” Brad snapped.

“Well, the chief’s put me in charge, but Sergeant Yeaton is helping, and Detective Thibodeau is in on it. That’s it, so far as I know. We’ll try to keep it low key.”

“I get to know who filed the complaint, right?”

Harvey hesitated. “Actually, we don’t have a formal complaint yet.”

Brad blinked. “Then why on earth are you investigating?”

“Something came up as a sort of byproduct of another investigation, and we’re trying to see if there’s anything to it.”

“So this is a rumor thing.”

“Well, it’s more than that.”

“How much more?”

“We’ve got a taped statement from one woman who doesn’t want to file formally, and we expect to get another statement soon. We’re questioning a lot of people, Brad. The chief thinks it’s serious. If we come up with much more, there will be formal complaints.”

“When?”

“I’d say, expect to hear it soon.”

“You’re taping statements.” Brad shook his head. “What am I supposed to have done?”

“When the complaint is filed, you’ll get a copy, but it looks like inappropriate language, intimidation of a subordinate, and … well, maybe more than that.”

“I’m speechless. Intimidation? Harvey, you know as well as I do you have to keep your troops in line. I probably intimidate a lot of men, too, but do they go whining about it?”

“This is sexual,” Harvey reminded him.

“Fantastic.”

“And, I just wanted you to know, I randomly picked a couple of your shifts from last week and requisitioned the surveillance videos from the camera over your desk.”

“What?”

“Chief Browning asked me to review the tapes for potential infractions.”

“You’re spying on me?”

“Relax, Brad. It’s not spying, it’s a public record. Those cameras run all the time, and you know it. There’s one over my desk, too.”

“Oh, yeah. For our protection. Tell me about it.” Brad turned toward the door and pulled on the handle, but it wouldn’t open. Angrily, he stabbed at the keypad beside it and tried again, but the door didn’t give.

“It’s 3-1-9-9,” Harvey said quietly.

 

*****

Marie Thibodeau opened the door and grinned. “Eddie? Come in. Shut the door—it’s cold out there. What are you doing here?”

“I just came to see if I could get a decent meal.”

“We ate, but I’ll fix you some leftovers.”

“Great. Anything you cooked is great.”

Eddie kissed her and stepped into the kitchen, stopping short when he saw his sister Élise at the table, holding her four-month-old son, Marco.

“Lisa! Hey! Great to see you.”

She smiled up at him. “Hello, stranger.”

“How’s the little guy?” Eddie stepped close and put one finger out to touch the baby’s cheek. “Ça va, Marco?”

“He’s good. How are you doing?”

Eddie shrugged. “Been better, been worse.”

“You haven’t solved this case yet?” Marie opened the refrigerator and took out a couple of plastic containers.

“We’re working on it.”

“What’s taking so long?” Lisa asked.

“An investigation like this takes time, that’s all.”

“Is it because he was French?” Marie asked, scooping food from the containers onto a plate.

“Because he was French?” Eddie laughed. “Please, you think this was a hate crime?”

“She means, is someone slowing down the investigation because of it,” Lisa explained. “She thinks it’s a conspiracy.”

“Maman, they put their best Frenchman in charge.” Eddie spread his arms wide.

“My son, the hotshot detective.” Marie smiled and slid the plate into the microwave.

“How’s your love life?” Lisa asked.

“Great. How’s yours?” Eddie returned.

She laughed. “Come on. Are you seeing anyone?”

“Mostly I’m seeing witnesses these days.”

“You’ll never find another girl like Leeanne,” Lisa said.

“Oh, there are lots of girls out there!” Marie brought two cans of beer from the refrigerator and held one out to him.

“I told you I don’t drink that stuff now, Maman,” Eddie said.

“Hmp.” She held it out toward Lisa.

“Ma, I’m nursing.”

Marie took the cans back to the refrigerator, then came back to the table with one of them and a glass. The microwave timer rang as she poured the beer out.

“I’ll get it.” Eddie stood and went for his plate and a fork. “You got anything else to drink?”

“Water. You know where we keep it.”

When he had settled at the table again, Lisa said, “So, no dates lately.”

He shrugged and took a bite of spaghetti. “Really good, Maman. Thanks.”

“Have you seen Leeanne?” Lisa prompted.

“I see her.”

“You do?” Marie asked in surprise. “Well, now.”

“Sure. I see her lots. Well, not lots, but some. I saw her Thursday night.”

“You went out?” Lisa was incredulous.

“No, we didn’t go out, exactly. I just saw her. You said, did I see her. I saw her.”

“What, you passed her on the street?” Marie sipped her beer.

“No, I saw her. I went over to Harvey’s, and she was there.”

“Did you talk to her?” Lisa asked.

“What do you care, you cat?”

“Édouard Jean,” his mother warned. “You two are just like children.”

“I miss her,” Lisa said plaintively.

“Oh, sure. You told me last month you were going to scratch her eyes out.” Eddie kept eating without giving his sister so much as a glance.

“I was mad,” Lisa admitted. “Now I’m wondering if she wasn’t a smart girl to give your ring back. You’re insufferable. Tu est stupide!”

Eddie laughed. “Moi?”

“Can I wear the dress?” Lisa asked.

“What dress?”

“The one for the wedding. How long am I supposed to keep it before I can wear it?”

“I don’t know. You want to wear it someplace else?”

“Ansel is taking me to the theater for our anniversary.”

“Why don’t you call Leeanne and ask her if it’s okay for you to wear it?”

“You don’t think that would be tacky?”

“Just wear it,” her mother advised.

“Well, if there’s any chance …” Lisa gazed questioningly at Eddie.

He sat back and wiped his lips on his napkin. “When’s your anniversary?”

“The thirtieth.”

“Wait.”

“You mean—?”

“I mean nothing. You asked, I told you.”

“Well, now,” said Marie.

 

*****

Deidre Cleridge Martin arrived at the police station Wednesday morning, accompanied by her husband.

“Mr. Martin,” Harvey greeted him. “Thank you for coming, Deidre.”

“Is this going to lead to criminal charges?” Martin asked anxiously. The young man was neatly dressed, and he kept possession of Deidre’s hand as Harvey led them to the interview room.

“We’re not sure yet, but your wife’s statement will help us determine that. I’ve asked Sergeant Cheryl Yeaton to tape this session. Then we’ll have it transcribed, and you and Deidre can read it over before she signs it.” He smiled at Deidre. “Ready?”

“I think so.”

Cheryl came off the elevator, and Harvey left her with the couple while he went up one flight to the chief’s office.

“Any word from Framingham?” he asked Mike.

“Yeah, I talked to a couple of people down there. They’re cagey. Don’t like anyone snooping around, asking personal questions about their chief of police.”

“So, they think he’s above reproach?”

“Either that, or they’re already not liking him and want to be the first to take a swing. I’m trying to get hold of their mayor and explain the sensitive nature of this inquiry. I may have to get Jill Weymouth in on it, but I hate to tip her on this before we know where we’re going.”

When Harvey returned to the Priority Unit, he was surprised to see Jeff Wainthrop sitting on the corner of Eddie’s desk. He wore his fire department uniform and was deep in conversation with Eddie and Nate.

“Hey, Jeffrey! Business or pleasure?”

Jeff stood up and extended his hand. “Harvey! Glad you’re here. I seem to be a witness in your murder case.”

Harvey turned expectantly to Eddie.

“It’s like this. I had Tony check to see if we had any units near City Hall at the time of the murder, but we didn’t. Well, this morning he and Nate were talking about it, and Nate had a brainstorm. There might have been a siren out there that wasn’t a police car.” Nate stood by modestly while Eddie detailed his part in the discovery.

Jeff said, “We had a call at 11:45 on Labor Day, Harvey. The dispatcher logged it. Mark Johnson and I were sent out with the ambulance to a store down the street. A woman had fainted in the checkout line. It turned out to be a diabetic case, and we had to transport her. I was miffed because I wanted to meet Beth and Jennifer at one, when you were starting the game. We didn’t get back in time. But anyway, we went right past City Hall with the siren going at approximately 11:50.”

Harvey put his hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “How approximate?”

“Two minutes, either way, I figure. We got to the location in less than ten. It’s all in the log at the fire station.”

“So, the shooter could have taken advantage of the noise to cover the sound of the shot.” Eddie spread his hands, smiling. “I don’t say he planned it, but it was, what do you call it?”

“Fortuitous,” said Harvey.

“Serendipity,” Jeff suggested.

“Luck,” Nate put in.

Eddie nodded. “Bonne chance.”

Harvey looked expectantly at Nate. “All right, Miller, your next step is …?”

“Well, sir, I checked with Eddie, and he agreed we need to talk to those guards from the game committee again and see if they heard the ambulance go by while they were watching the elevator.”

“Good.”

Eddie winced. “We shoulda asked them before, when we thought of a siren, but we were so sure there wasn’t one, we never asked.”

“Okay, Nate, get on it.” When Miller had gone through the stairway door, Harvey said to Eddie, “We know why they didn’t hear the shot. It’s interesting, but not really evidence.”

“I know, but, Harv, there’s more. The lab sent a preliminary report on the fibers and hairs we found in the comptroller’s office and on the dummy’s clothes.”

“And?”

“Two unidentified hairs on the dummy’s jacket. Blond, short. They don’t belong to anyone on the setup crew, or the guy who donated the jacket.”

“Don’t look at me,” said Jeff. “Now I’d better get back to work.”

As Eddie escorted Jeff down the stairway, Paula approached Harvey.

“Captain, the front desk just called. There’s a Ms. Harrington here. Apparently she’s been up to the chief’s office, and she’s coming down the elevator to see you.”

As she spoke, the elevator door rumbled open, and Harvey went to meet the woman stepping out. Her short-skirted red suit and black heels looked out of place in the police station.

“Ms. Harrington?” He held out his hand, wondering if she had something to do with the harassment case.

“Captain Larson?” Her dark eyes appraised him from behind lashes too thick to be real.

“Yes, how may I help you?”

“I’m actually here to see Detective Thibodeau, but Chief Browning insisted I get your permission first.”

“Oh? Is this about a case Detective Thibodeau is working on?”

She laughed. “Heavens, no, nothing so dramatic. I’m from Portland Life magazine.” She held out a business card, and Harvey took it, managing to avoid touching the long scarlet nails.

Regina Harrington, editorial assistant, Portland Life Magazine.

The text put Harvey on guard. “And your purpose for this visit is…?”

Before she could answer, the stairway door opened and Eddie sauntered, whistling, toward his desk. He tossed a glance toward Harvey and Ms. Harrington, and kept walking, his hands in his pockets.

“Would that be the person in question?” Regina Harrington asked softly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Harvey watched her approving gaze as she evaluated Eddie from head to toe.

“Oh, yes, I think I’ve found my man. Isn’t he the Heartbreaker Hero who was featured on Morning Nation last winter?”

Harvey cleared his throat. “What is this for, may I ask, ma’am?”

She turned toward him, smiling. “Portland Life magazine is doing a feature on eligible men in the city.”

Harvey laughed outright, and Eddie glanced his way before sitting down at his computer. Farther down the room, Tony looked up. He had his phone to his ear, and he turned his chair away from them.

Ms. Harrington nodded. “Good. You find it amusing. That’s our hope, that the feature will be entertaining. A little frothy, perhaps, but tons of local interest. We usually do more serious pieces, but we intend to have some fun with this one. The ten most gorgeous bachelors in the city. Every single woman in town will buy a copy.”

Harvey couldn’t kill the smile. “I’m sorry, Ms. Harrington. Detective Thibodeau is an extremely busy man. I don’t think—”

“Why don’t you let him decide? It wouldn’t take much of his time. We’ll arrange an interview and a photo shoot for when he’s off duty.” Her eyebrows went up as Eddie stood to remove his sport coat. “Oh, yes, I think we want a photo in his shirtsleeves. Maybe a T-shirt, but with the holster and badge. And those eyes! He could be Number One, easily.”

“Now, wait a minute, ma’am,” Harvey protested. “Eddie is involved in a very sensitive case right now.”

“Would that be the Labor Day Murder?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, yes. You can see how valuable his time is.”

“All the more interesting for our readers. Off duty,” she repeated. “It won’t take more than an hour. We’ll just ask him about his hobbies, how he came to be a detective, how he likes it, that sort of thing. He’s never been married before, has he?”

“What? No, but—uh, please, I don’t—” He let it hang there as she stepped determinedly toward Eddie.

Okay, Lord, this is your ballgame, Harvey breathed, sinking into his swivel chair. Eddie looked up at Ms. Harrington and began to smile as she launched into her plea.

“Oh, what a smile!” she cried. “Yes! We’ve got to have you on our cover! I knew this was an inspiration. What do you think, Detective?”

Eddie laughed. “Sorry, I don’t think it’s right for me.”

“Oh, come on, it will be great. Women all over the city will want to meet you.”

“That’s okay, ma’am,” Eddie assured her. “I have enough women in my life already.” He glanced toward his captain, and Harvey winked. “See, I—I’m pretty much engaged.”

“Engaged?” Ms. Harrington’s disappointment was palpable. “Pretty much?”

“Well, yes, sort of.”

Harvey began to smile.

“Well, are you or aren’t you?”

Eddie hesitated. “Let’s say I hope to be very soon, and I don’t think the lady would appreciate me showing up in your magazine as an available bachelor.”

Chagrined, Regina Harrington opened her purse. “All right, here’s my card if you change your mind. Do you know where I can fine Detective Winfield?”

“Tony Winfield?”

“Yes.” She was consulting a list. Harvey suppressed a chortle.

“He’s right over there, ma’am.” Eddie pointed toward Tony’s desk.

“He’s not engaged, is he?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. He’s free as a bird. And did you know he’s the governor’s nephew?”

Ms. Harrington straightened. “You don’t say. The chief never mentioned that. Say, that’s a good angle.”

Eddie shrugged. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Does he date much?”

“Some. He’s fun. Girls like him. And he drives a Mustang convertible.”

“Kind of a babyface.” Ms. Harrington frowned. “Still, the governor’s nephew …” She walked briskly toward Tony’s desk.