Secret Prey

I’m saying if it’s random, it’s weird. Anyone could get firebombed by a random nut, but not Weather: not with her recent history. Anyone could get shot by a pissed-off boyfriend, but not O’Dell—not with her recent history.’’
    ‘‘I see what you mean,’’ Swanson said.
    ‘‘Still: Check with the guards and see how many key cards O’Dell had, and see if you can find them.’’
    ‘‘Do that,’’ Swanson said. ‘‘What else?’’
    ‘‘Nothing else.’’
    ‘‘I could go over and beat up Audrey McDonald for a while.’’
    ‘‘Hell, just phone her old man and tell him to do it. Then you can drop by for the confession.’’
    ‘‘You see her leg?’’ Swanson asked, his voice dropping.
    ‘‘Yeah, I saw her leg.’’
    ‘‘I once saw a stripper in a carnival who had bruises like that. Her old man beat her with a rolling pin.’’
    ‘‘That’s some business we’re going to do after we finish with this,’’ Lucas said. ‘‘We’re gonna haul McDonald’s blubber-butt down to City Hall and put him away.’’
    He rang off Swanson and called Sloan. Sloan answered on the second ring: ‘‘Sloan.’’
    ‘‘Can you talk?’’ Lucas asked.
    ‘‘Not really. I could step outside.’’
    ‘‘Did you ask Bone about Kresge?’’
    ‘‘Let me step outside.’’
    After a moment of shuffling around and some conversation that Lucas couldn’t make out, Sloan came back and said, ‘‘Well, I’m in the can. Bone says the phone reception here is better.’’
    ‘‘So what’d they say?’’
    ‘‘Yeah, they have a relationship, and it started before her old man died—but not until after the separation. At least, that’s what they say.’’
    ‘‘How did you read it?’’
    ‘‘I think they’re telling the truth about that. They got together at a particular party, and a number of people know about it and know that the party is when it started. I can check all that, but I think they’re probably telling the truth.
    One thing—I took Bone back in the kitchen to ask him about Kresge, and he said he’d appreciate it if I didn’t talk about Kresge around his assistant. He said he didn’t want the gossip getting around the bank, but I got the feeling that he was lying about that. I think the reason was a little more personal, and I’m wondering if he’s boning the assistant?’’
    ‘‘One more bone joke from anybody and they’re fired . . .’’
    ‘‘Fuck you, I’m civil service. Anyway . . .’’
    ‘‘I don’t know; she’s pretty chilly,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘Really? I think she’s pretty comfortable with Bone.’’
    Now Lucas was surprised. Sloan was the personalityreading genius in the department. ‘‘Is that so? Huh.’’
    ‘‘She also doesn’t have a completely solid alibi. Kresge does, sort of. She was talking to some other guy—and I get the feeling she may be boning this other guy too—when Bone called with the news that McDonald had left and there was no deal. But this was like on call waiting. She told Bone she’d come over, and then she switched back to this other guy and told him that something had come up with the bank, and they talked about it for a few minutes. Maybe five, ten minutes, because they talked about some other stuff too. And then she hurried right over to Bone’s place and got there about twenty after eleven, and from her place she really doesn’t have time for another stop.’’
    ‘‘Okay.’’
    ‘‘And to tell you the truth, she’s a pretty funky chick; I don’t think she’d kill anyone. She’s not crazy enough.’’
    ‘‘What about Baki?’’ Lucas asked.
    ‘‘I don’t know. I can’t read her very well. Very pretty; and she looks at Bone like a wolf looks at a sheep.’’
    ‘‘Huh. You about done there?’’
    ‘‘Yeah. Unless you want me to torture somebody.’’
    ‘‘Not tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.’’
    ‘‘Shit’s gonna hit the fan tomorrow morning, dude. The Star-Tribune has the police guy standing outside of O’Dell’s, and a business guy standing downstairs here.’’
    ‘‘Freedom of the press,’’ Lucas said.

FIFTEEN

    JIM BONE HAD HIS HEAD IN HIS REFRIGERATOR WHEN the phone rang. He picked up the kitchen extension and Kerin Baki said, ‘‘Mr. Bone, this is Kerin.’’
    ‘‘Jesus, Kerin, it’s five-thirty. Have you been to bed?’’
    ‘‘No. Too much to do.’’ She sounded wide awake. ‘‘Nancy Lu just called me. McDonald called Brandt out