High Profile

“And we got our pictures,” Suit said.

“Worth a thousand words,” Jesse said.

“You think this guy Lutz did your murders?” Rosa said.

“Maybe.”

“You think the woman is involved with him?”

“Maybe.”

“And you’re going to use her to try and shake him loose,” Rosa said.

“Yep.”

“And him to shake her loose?” Rosa said.

“Yep.”

“You think they’re the ones?”

“She’s been lying about absolutely everything since I started talking to her. He has never told me any of what you heard me talk with her about.”

“We both know it doesn’t mean they did it,” Rosa said.

“And we both know it doesn’t mean they didn’t,” Jesse said.

“That’s right,” Rosa said. “It’s grounds for suspicion.”

“She didn’t mention that Weeks was divorcing her,” Suit said.

“Her husband that’s dead?” Rosa said. “The talk-show guy?”

“Yes,” Jesse said.

“Was it going to be a good deal for her?” Rosa said.

“No.”

“No money?”

“Not enough,” Jesse said. “That was going to go to the woman who died with him, and their unborn son.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rosa said. “A motive.”

“Sounds like one,” Jesse said.

“But?”

“But I need to figure out where Lutz is in this,” Jesse said. “I doubt that she could have done it alone. And why in hell would he do it for her?”

“He’s been seeing her,” Suit said.

“So has Hendricks,” Jesse said.

“Who’s Hendricks,” Rosa said.

Jesse told her.

“He got something going with what’shername Lorrie?” Rosa said.

“So I’m told.”

“And we got our pictures,” Suit said.

“Suit did the photography,” Jesse said. “He’s very proud.”

“A job worth doing...” Suit said.

“You think he’s in?” Rosa said.

“Hendricks? Don’t know. Can’t rule him out.”

Rosa took a card from her purse and gave it to Jesse. “You guys need me again, call. Deputy superintendent says I’m yours when you need me, unless something comes up.”

“Thanks, Rosa,” Jesse said.

“It was a pleasure watching you work in the interview, smooth, pleasant, keep her talking, show her a way to look good, and, if she’s guilty, throw the blame someplace else,” Rosa said. “You’re pretty good.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Jesse said.

“She may have killed her husband and his girlfriend and their unborn child,” Rosa said. “And she might have two male accomplices, and she might be bopping them both.”

“And she looks like a charity-ball trophy wife,” Jesse said.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Rosa said.

“But not forever,” Jesse said.

57

Molly brought Lutz into Jesse’s office. He looks tired, Jesse thought.

“Thanks for coming in,” Jesse said.

Lutz nodded and sat down. Molly left.

“I’m not going to fuck around with this,” Jesse said. “I think you’re in a mess.”

Lutz had no reaction.

“Here’s what we know. We know you were a cop. We know you once busted Weeks for public indecency, and went on to become his bodyguard. We know you were once married to Lorraine Pilarcik, now known as Lorrie Weeks. We know you and she got a Vegas quickie divorce eleven days before she married Weeks. We know you seemed to have weathered this domestic upheaval and continued in Weeks’s employ. We know you were just with her in New York, and continue to have a relationship with her, which gives the appearance, at least, of intimacy.”

Lutz didn’t speak. He sat straight in the chair. His arms crossed. His face blank.

“We know that Carey Longley was pregnant with Weeks’s baby. We know that Weeks, prior to his death, had filed for divorce from Lorrie, which would have meant that all he owned would go to Carey and the unborn child, once the divorce happened.”

Lutz didn’t move. He looked at Jesse with the dead-eyed cop stare that Jesse himself had mastered so long ago. It was like they issued it with the badge. Even Molly could do it if required.

“We know you were a cop, so we assume you know how to shoot. We assume you had some knowledge of the degree to which storing a cadaver in a refrigerator would muck up the medical examiner’s conclusions. We know you’re a big, strong guy and could, if you had to, drag a dead body around and string it up on a tree in the park. And, as a former cop, you might have a better idea than some why doing so would confuse the murder investigation.”

Jesse picked up his coffee cup, saw that it was empty, and stood to pour some more.

“You want coffee?” Jesse said to Lutz.

Lutz shook his head. Jesse put sugar in his coffee and some condensed milk and stirred it and brought it back to his desk.

“Care to discuss any of these issues?” Jesse said.

Lutz shook his head.

“Care to discuss the relationship with Lorrie Pilarcik?”

Lutz shook his head. Jesse shrugged. He took a tape recorder from his desk drawer, put it on his desk, and punched play. It was the tape Suit had made of the interview with Lorrie in New York.

“And Lutz didn’t mind?” Jesse’s voice.

“Well, I suppose, of course, he must have minded.” Lorrie’s voice.

“And do you think he minded when you married Weeks?”

“You recognize the voices,” Jesse said.

Lutz made no answer.