More Twisted

and he went after the businessman zealously—with the same energy that had made him a celebrity among the citizens of Annandale. Since Carnegie had been appointed head of Major Crimes, two years ago, robberies, drug sales and gang activities had dropped by half. Annandale had the lowest crime rate of any town in the area. He was also well liked among prosecutors—he made airtight cases against his suspects.
    But on the Anco case he stumbled. Just after he’d arrested Jake Muller last month a witness came forward and said the man seen leaving the Anco grounds just after the robbery didn’t look at all like Muller. Carnegie asserted that a smart perp like Muller would use a disguise for the getaway. But a state’s attorney decided there was no case against him and ordered the businessman released.
    Carnegie fumed at the embarrassment and the bloton his record. So when no other leads panned out the detective returned to Muller with renewed fervor. He kept digging into the businessman’s life and slowly began shoring up the case with circumstantial evidence: Muller frequently played golf on a course next to Anco headquarters—the perfect place for staking out the company—and he owned an acetylene torch that was powerful enough to cut through the loading dock door at Anco. The detective used this information to bully his captain into beefing up surveillance on Muller.
    Hence, the interrupted nap today with the stop-the-presses information about Muller’s accounts.
    “So what about the Portland money, Jake?”
    “What about it?”
    “Where’d the money come from?”
    “I stole the crown jewels. No, wait, it was the Great Northfield Train Robbery. Okay, I lied. I knocked over a casino in Vegas.”
    William Carnegie sighed and momentarily lowered his lids, which ended with perfect, delicate lashes.
    The businessman asked, “What about that other suspect? The highway worker? You were going to check him out.”
    Around the time of the heist a man in a public works jumpsuit was seen pulling a suitcase from some bushes near the Anco main gate. A passing driver thought this looked suspicious and noted the license plate of the public works truck, relaying the information to the Highway Patrol. The truck, which had been stolen a week before in Bakersfield, was later found abandoned at Orange County’s John Wayne Airport.
    Muller’s lawyer had contended that this man was the robber and that Carnegie should pursue him.
    “Didn’t have any luck finding him,” the Annandale detective said.
    “You mean,” Muller grumbled, “that it was a long shot, he’s out of the jurisdiction and it’s a hell of a lot easier to roust me than it is to find the real thief.” He snapped, “Goddamn it, Carnegie, the only thing I’ve ever done wrong in my life was listening to a couple of buddies I shouldn’t have when I was seventeen. We borrowed—”
    “ ‘Borrowed’?”
    “—a car for two hours and we paid the price. I just don’t get why you’re riding me like this.”
    But in truth Muller knew the answer to that perfectly well. In his long and varied career, he’d met a number of men and women like self-disciplined William Carnegie. They were machines powered by mindless ambition to take down whoever they believed was their competitor or enemy. They were different from people like Muller himself, who are ambitious, yes, but whose excitement comes from the game itself. The Carnegies of the world were ruled solely by their need to win; the process was nothing to them.
    “Can you prove the funds came from a legitimate source?” the sergeant asked formally.
    Muller looked at Carnegie. “What happened to your other assistant, Detective? What was his name? Carl? I liked him. He didn’t last too long.”
    Carnegie had gone through two assistants in the time he’d been after Jake Muller. He supposed that thoughthe citizenry and the reporters were impressed with the obsessive-compulsive cop he’d make his coworkers’ lives miserable.
    “Okay,” the detective said. “If you’re not going to talk that’s just the way it is. Oh, but I should let you know: We’ve got some information we’re looking at right now. It’s very interesting.”
    “Ah, more of your surveillance?”
    “Maybe.”
    “And what exactly did you find?”
    “Let’s just call it interesting.”
    Muller said, “ ‘Interesting.’ You said that twice. Hey, you want a beer? You, Sergeant?”
    Carnegie answered for both of them.