An Absence of Light

This was standard, good management, and everyone there knew it, but everyone also knew that on a personal basis it was awkward. Burtell had already told Graver that he couldn’t think of anything in Tisler’s investigations that might relate to his death, and now Paula was going to be second-guessing him. She was going to have to ask questions that could easily seem like caviling to Burtell. They each understood, and each of them wanted to be responsibly dispassionate.

Graver took the other stack from his desk and handed them to Burtell. “You take the other four, Dean. They’re equally divided between Rankin and Derr. They’re the only other analysts Tisler’s worked with besides yourself. But I don’t want you to talk to them about this.”

Burtell accepted the folders and nodded. Graver’s attention lingered hesitantly on him, and then he turned to Neuman. “Okay, Casey, I want you to work up Arthur just as you would any other new target Start at the beginning. Run everything. Don’t let anything slide, don’t make any assumptions.”

He paused. Casey and Paula were looking at him with fixed, sober expressions, still trying to absorb the news they had received less than an hour ago.

“This might seem a little distasteful,” Graver acknowledged, “but we’re going to do it. We’ve got to pick him apart.”

“You don’t know… anything, do you?” Paula interjected.

Though it might have sounded accusatory, it was asked with the kind of affrontive inquiry that was sterling Paula. She knew her place; she knew about hierarchy, but she also possessed an artless honesty and self-assurance that had a leveling effect on all of her relationships. She knew damn well that if he wasn’t telling them something it was for a reason he would not share with them, and that he would have to lie to her and continue withholding it But that was Paula. She wanted to see his face when he said it.

“No,” he said. “I don’t know anything.” He picked up his Charlie Chan mug and sipped his coffee. It was his third cup of the morning, and many more would follow. “Last night they were leaning toward suicide, but that was just an on-the-spot hunch. Maybe later on this morning they’ll have something to back that up. But right now there are no suspicions about anything, nothing to guide us in one direction or the other.”

He stopped a moment and let his eyes drift to the clouds that were breaking a little now, the bright morning sun piercing through to the skyscrapers in brilliant shafts.

“Everyone clear about what we’ve got to do here?” he asked. They all nodded. “If there are any surprises waiting in those folders, or in Tisler’s background, I want to see them coming. Okay?”

Everyone nodded again.

“You want our assessments on each target worked up in reports?” Paula asked.

“No, and that’s a good point. If you think you’ve got something, come to me, let’s talk it through “first.”

He started to dismiss them, then decided he had better underscore the seriousness of their situation. He crossed his arms and sat back on the desk again.

“Obviously if Tisler’s been mishandling the file in some way, this is big trouble,” he said. “Anything we discuss here dies here. I didn’t choose you for this by tossing a coin, but because I thought you could do best what needs to be done.” He hesitated only a second. “You report only to me. Only to me. If you want to talk and I’m not around then keep it to yourself until you find me. There aren’t any other alternatives, no Plan B. Don’t put anything in writing except your notes unless I ask you to. While this is going on I’m available around the clock; it’s never too late, never too early. You’ve got my pager number. Use it That clear?”

It was, and there were no questions.

Chapter 12

Graver had saved two aspects of Tisler’s life for himself: his personnel file and his contributor documents. He went to the back of the personnel file and started at the beginning.

After graduating from the Academy, Tisler had spent three years in patrol and then began a steady tour through four of the departments in the investigations command, Robbery, Vice, Auto Theft, and a short stint in Narcotics. He twice had taken the exam for a sergeant’s slot, but his scores had never been high enough to put him in a good position for a promotion. His security clearance check for his entry to CID was routine and seemed generally to reflect Burtell’s assessment that Tisler was an orderly man. His credit report was immaculate. His indebtedness was small: a car, some household appliances, and a new house note that was only three years old. Job performance evaluations were remarkably lacking in distinction throughout his career, even during his first few years in CID.