“That’s all, because that’s all that happened.”
Joanna smiled as she folded her hands. How had he never noticed her self-satisfaction before? “And the balloon was an impulsive gift,” she said. “The little girl looked at it as I was giving my condolences to her father, and it seemed like a nice thing to do. My mistake.”
“Anything else?”
“Professor Hazlett has never had any contact with anyone from the Diaz family you mentioned. And while the Boston Scholar’s Program in question is smaller than the other programs at the university, there have been enough students through it by now that it’s not an unbelievable coincidence that someone from that program would be involved in this case, however tangentially.”
Robert was tired, but he wasn’t in any hurry. (And Graham could shove it if he thought he was going to hurry for him.) “One person from that program in this case—or any other—isn’t ‘unbelievable,’ as you say. And maybe even two. Three? Well, Boston isn’t that big, and people don’t always move. But four?” Joanna flinched. “What if I told you there were a total of five kids from that program indirectly involved? Does the word ‘coincidence’ apply at this point?”
“I don't know, but ‘circumstantial’ does.”
“I'll let you in on a secret: I only found all of these kids a few days ago, but my source figured out who they were a day after they started handing out Alex Sheldon’s goodies.”
“We know all about your ‘source,’ Detective Teague.”
Robert didn’t care. “This is a gossipy little town, isn’t it? Okay, fine—my source is Hannah Bruges, who was made privy to the, um, innocent encounter between her brother and Professor Hazlett before Alex Sheldon was murdered. When she found out that Sheldon’s possessions were spread out all over the state—in one day—she knew that even if her brother had taken them, he was home with his family that morning and he couldn’t have given the goods to anyone himself. So it had to be his accomplice.”
The attorney held up her hand. “Maybe Mister Bruges called a person that he knew shared his hatred of Alex Sheldon because he was panicking about the items he’d impulsively stolen. Maybe Professor Hazlett received said items after the murder. If this happened, my client would have helped him because she didn’t want him linked to the crime. Accessory after the fact—but I’m guessing Hannah Bruges is being charged with the same thing. Here’s the deal: if she skates, so does my client.”
Robert pretended to think over the offer. “There’s just a couple of problems. It’s the stolen items I keep coming back to. You’re telling me Joshua Bruges impulsively stole more than twenty items after he killed Sheldon? I guess that’s possible, but the scene of the crime didn’t look like a robbery. In fact, if your client’s stepson hadn’t noticed that things were missing, we wouldn’t have thought robbery at all. The scene was just too damn neat. It’s almost as if someone gave him a list of things to take.”
Joanna smiled. “Do you have this list?”
“I do not,” Robert conceded. “But there’s something else that might make the deal your lawyer’s offering us hard for our DA to swallow. You’d concede that you got those items, but how? We know you didn’t get back from the Cape until the morning after Sheldon was killed. We canvassed the residents and no one remembers seeing anyone close to your description in the hours before the cleaning crew got there, and we would have seen you if you’d shown up after. So how would Josh have passed on the stuff?” Neither said anything, so Robert continued. “Your house is close to Alex’s, but where would he have made the drop? And if that much of Alex’s stuff showed up at your house, you’d have had some explaining to do much earlier. And on top of that, your office is much closer to where that little army of kids received their share.”
“As you said, my client was out of—”
“I know she was. So then why did I find out tonight that the university’s security system shows your client entering her office building on campus less than an hour after the murder?”
“I can get thirty witnesses to—”
“Tell us she was in Truro,” Robert said. “Yes, I know. And you know what would make me believe it if I didn’t already? Your client had to call university security that morning to let her into the building because she didn’t have her card on her. Of course she didn’t; Josh Bruges had her key. But if no one was looking at her, why would that matter?” For a moment, he thought he saw Joanna’s calm veneer stretch a little too thin. “But you haven’t heard the rest of my story. See, my source—Hannah—figured out pretty quickly that if the good professor were going to dispatch all those people to distribute the goods, first, they’d be connected in some way to the University and, second, they’d have to be connected through students who lived in Boston. And having driven all across the state to track those things down, I already knew that the kids were from Boston. But how was she going to convince these kids to help her? They had to have some pressure points, the kind that were easy to identify and that she could push quickly. And the Boston Scholars is the only program at the university that fit that bill perfectly.” He waited for Joanna to think about that. “But I’d like to hear you explain how you could have tracked these kids down in the ten or so hours between Sheldon’s murder and when you started handing off the stolen goods. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks more likely that you would have had their phone numbers on speed dial by the time Josh Bruges let you know the job had been done.”
“You really want to do this, Bob?” The veneer was gone. “Isn’t it convenient that not only is Lucy one of the chairs of the committee overseeing this, but that the actual founder went on to become our current mayor? Do you think it’s a secret that Hwang thinks you’re incompetent and is waiting for a chance to make sure you lose your job? Now you’re going to implicate him and Lucy in some convoluted plot to murder Alex Sheldon—who, as everyone in Boston knows, also hated the both of them? The press will love that. They have been waiting for a scandal like this to touch our upstanding and earnest Mayor Hwang. It’s not going to matter whether you’re the bad guy or he is: the whole thing is going to be yet another reminder that you can’t trust politicians or the police in this city.”
“Joanna, stop talking,” the attorney ordered.
He understood then how much thought Joanna had put into this, and why Hannah had felt so trapped by her scheme. “I guess you win the prize. You really did hate Sheldon more than anyone; so much so that you were willing to not only screw a complete stranger but also burn your wife.”
Joanna’s eyes narrowed. “Lucy is going to appreciate this, actually.”
“Stop talking!”
Joanna didn't seem to hear. “She wanted to neutralize him so badly, but she doesn’t have it in her to do what needed to be done.”
“So you did it for her?”
“You’re such a romantic, Bobby, but no. I did it for me, too. You have no idea what that man cost me.”
“A life with Lucy. But didn’t you get that back?”
“Tom raped me, and what did Alex do when he found out? He blackmailed Lucy. But he wasn’t done playing with us. Lucy thought being out in the open was going to protect us, but I wasn’t surprised to see him back. I always knew he would be waiting for us.”
“I want to talk to my client now,” the attorney demanded.
Robert rose. “Fine with me.”
He locked eyes with Lucy Bartolome when he exited the interrogation room. He was expecting her to charge toward him with a threat to his job and reputation, but that wasn’t what she did.
“I had no idea.” She turned away and touched the glass in front of her.
Robert remembered the first time he’d heard the name ‘Lucy Bartolome’ and how much he’d wanted to punish her for what she’d done to his father. He’d wanted to reduce her as much as she’d reduced him. It hadn’t mattered that his father wasn’t a good man; she shouldn’t have punished him for something he didn’t do.
He’d been a boy
then. Now he was a man, and he took no joy in having succeeded. “Neither did I,” he said as he walked to the interrogation room where Hannah and Mitch were waiting.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Robert lingered outside the door and watched Hannah with Mitch. She could be anything she wanted to be—mousy, glamorous, confident—but in the room, she was just Hannah: young, beautiful, and the least important person she knew.
But she hadn’t been to him.
“Has Joanna Hazlett been arrested yet?” Mitch asked when Robert came in. Hannah leaned her head on her hand and turned away from him. He didn’t blame her.
“Not yet, but she will be.”
“Then good night.”
Robert sat down before Mitch could rise. “We still need a few more details to close this out.”
“You’ve got everything.”
“No, we don’t.” He turned to Hannah. “I want to know about Alex Sheldon’s involvement with Amir Abassadi.”
She turned to face him. She closed her eyes for a long moment, clearly exhausted. “It was murder. I know other hits had been ordered, but I had a lot of proof for this one.”
“So why didn’t you just tell me when you found out?” Robert asked against his better judgment.
“I insist on a moment with my client.”
Hannah shook her head. “It’s alright.” She forced her eyes open. “Because prison was a long shot for Sheldon. He wouldn’t have spent four hours in lockup, and with everything that needs to happen before you can extradite an American citizen for murdering a Jordanian national in China—even Hong Kong—it wouldn’t have been enough to keep him away.”
“So what did you think you could do?”
Hannah swallowed. Mitch looked from side to side before he jerked his head, suddenly awake. “Hannah, do NOT answer that question!”
Robert stood up. “The men you met at that club were Abassadi’s family, weren’t they?”
Hannah glared up at Robert with bloodshot eyes. “Would you like their names? I’ll give them to you. And you can check their records from the time they were born. You’re not going to find anything.”
“But once again you know you get to play ‘Gotcha!’ with the police, the FBI, Interpol, and anyone else you can hack into.” Robert could feel his blood pressure in his ears. “Are you out of your mind?”
“This interview is over now.” Mitch rose. “My client has given you evidence against two other people, and you have not charged her with anything. Hannah, come on, you’re staying with us tonight.” He took out his phone as Hannah got up. “I’m telling Emily now, unless she’s fallen asleep.”
Robert couldn’t care less about what Mitch wanted, and he cared only a little more that Baptiste was in the doorway. “You would rather have gone to a family of terrorists for help than come to me?” Hannah didn’t look at him. “You got any more stupid stunts you want to pull now that you’re going to have Mariana?”
Hannah snapped her head to face him. “Get. Over. Yourself. All of you! Everyone—and everyone you knew—was so excited about Alex Sheldon leaving Boston. You all thought you were so clever. Oh, yeah, I can see you thinking it: ‘Lucy Bartolome most of all.’ But you—you!—got so close to the son of a bitch and when he left, you didn’t think you should follow up on anything. It didn’t occur to any of you that someone who did everything he had done here could do much worse if no one knew to watch him. Or did you just not care? Captain Baptiste, was it that great having one less bad actor in your city?”
“Hannah,” Mitch warned.
She rounded on Mitch. “And you! Why should someone like you care about a corrupt businessman? The only thing that mattered to you at that point was fixing your marriage.”
Robert saw Emily in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. “This interview is over,” Mitch said in an even tone.
Hannah didn’t seem to hear him either. She focused on Robert as if it were just the two of them in the room. “But you were the worst of all. Because if you had been the cop you came so close to being, you would have seen that Tom Bartolome had connived with Sheldon right under your nose. But you had other things on your mind, right? Now let’s see how many years it takes you to figure out all of the ways you made Joanna Hazlett possible.”
“Hannah, stop.” Emily came into the room. She touched Hannah’s arm. “I’m so sorry.” Hannah’s face began to fall. “I didn’t see it either and I should have. But there’s nothing we can do about that now. I’m sorry you and Mariana are hurting because of it.”
Hannah nodded as the tears came. “Is Mariana okay? She must be so scared.”
Emily put her arm around Hannah and led her to the door. “Jessie got the girls to sleep hours ago.”
Robert moved toward Hannah as she started walking away. “Hell, no,” Mitch said to Baptiste. “Keep him away from her.”
“Good night, Graham,” Baptiste said with a weary nod. He stepped forward as Emily and Mitch led Hannah down the hallway. “Bob, let’s call it a night.”
“Emmanuel—”
“That’s an order. Do I have to have one of the uniforms escort you home?” Baptiste put his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “Go home, Bob. This is going to look better tomorrow.”
Robert leaned on the table. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Jesus, Bob.” Baptiste sighed. “Because she didn’t want to have to choose between you and her brother. And anything she told you was her choosing you.”
Robert pounded the table. “Then I guess arresting her wasn’t my best move.”
“You had to choose, too.”
Robert closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think or choose anymore.
“What was that you were saying about someone driving me home?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Robert hadn’t seen Hannah for two weeks. He called her for three days after Joanna was arrested, but she didn’t answer. He went by her place in Dorchester, but it had been rented to someone else.
After a week, he watched Mariana’s school from across the street and waited until she came out for recess. She was downcast when she came out, then brightened when some classmates invited her to play jump rope. They played for a few minutes before she started crying without warning. One of her teachers hugged her before they led her back inside.
When Mariana cried, he couldn’t help but see Hannah.
If Mariana was at the school, then Hannah must be at Josh’s old—her old—apartment. Hannah wouldn’t want to take anything else away from her if she didn’t have to.
He wanted to watch the apartment, just to see her go in or come out, but that was crazy.
So he did something crazier.
It only took one phone call for Emily to agree to meet him at the Starbucks on Boylston. He was surprised, but he wasn’t going to question it.
He pushed the tea toward her when he arrived at his table. She looked at it as if she were wondering whether it was safe to drink. “Thanks.” She put the tea to her lips and took a sip.
“Least I could do.” He didn’t want to waste any time. “How is she?”
“Not in jail.”
He knew detente with Emily couldn’t last long. “For that, I’m glad.”
“Do you also approve of her still being with her niece?”
She wasn’t letting him off for the things that were killing his conscience. “I’m not going to apologize for wanting Hannah to be careful. Maybe caring about Mariana will scare her into caring about herself.”
Emily put her tea down. Clearly, she didn’t approve. “Why did you call?”
“Because I need to know that she’s okay.” He looked at her tea so he wouldn’t have to look at her. “Why did you come?”
Emily inhaled. “Because I think you’re a bastard, but I think you know that what Hannah said is true: all of us were too damn happy to see Alex go and none of us worried about what he’d do.” She wasn’t a judgmental know-it-all now. “Because I believe that you want to be better beca
use of what happened, and I do too.”
No, he was pretty sure he couldn’t be better. “I want to do a little more than that, but I need your help.”
She raised an eyebrow and pulled back. “How?”
“I need to talk to Jessie. And I need to talk to her about her father.” He was speaking quickly so she wouldn’t have an opening to interrupt him. “Because he’s the only one who can really help.”
Emily stared at him. “How did I never realize that you were crazy?”
—
Emily had reluctantly agreed to broker the meeting with Jessie. Perhaps Martin had told her about their last encounter, but for whatever reason, she agreed to listen to his request. She waited until he finished to agree with Emily that, yes, he was crazy.
“Maybe...but I can’t think of any other way to make up for setting Sheldon free on the rest of the world.”
Perhaps Jessie agreed, because a week later, she, Richard, and Lucy joined Robert in the visitor’s lounge of Tom Bartolome’s prison.
“It looks like the gang’s all here!” Prison seemed to agree with Tom; his hair was still light blonde and not yet gray, and if anything, he seemed taller and fitter than before. He turned his attention on his daughter. “I understand congratulations are in order, dear. I hear you’re getting married. Your mother would be so proud.”
“Jessie—” Richard started, but Jessie cut him off.
“You’re right...Dad. I’m getting married. And my mother would have liked him a lot. He’s smart and nice and doesn’t mind marrying into my family. He’s also really good with bullies.” She smiled. “And it’s because of my mother that we’re all here.”
Tom appeared to be intrigued. “And what are we doing for my darling Josie?”
“Tommy, how could you?” Lucy hadn’t said anything before that. “I know you wanted to get back at me, but did it have to be through him?”
Tom winked. “I like to have my fun. And wasn’t he the most entertaining loser you ever met? Always thought he was so smart and that he was getting something over, well, everyone else. He was too busy being smug to see when he was being used.”
Justice, Mercy and Other Myths (The New Pioneers Book 7) Page 17
