Dave Zeltserman: Bad Thoughts

“That doesn’t sound good. Any reason to suspect him?”

“There is.” Brady showed his thin smile again, a smile that never made it anywhere near his eyes. “He came down to the station last night around seven to report his wife missing. Mind you, she was only an hour late at that point. Sounds like he might’ve been a bit too anxious to set up an alibi.”

Shannon nodded. “Yeah, it does sound that way.”

“I’d like to see this wrapped up quickly.” Brady hesitated as a queasy look pushed the smile from his lips. “An abduction is going to scare people here. If it’s the husband let’s get this finished with this morning before the media gets a whiff of it.”

“What about the car?”

“Forensics is going over it. Talk to the husband, okay, Bill?”

“Sure.”

“And, Bill, get it finished with this morning.”

Shannon gave his captain a nod and then headed off in the direction of the interrogation rooms. He stopped off at the lunch room to pour himself some coffee, and then stepped outside so he could smoke a cigarette. Cambridge had a smoking ban in the work place, and even though over half the cops in the precinct smoked, it was strictly enforced. Getting caught cost you a thirty-dollar fine, and he had already racked up a hundred and fifty in fines over the past three months. If Susie knew she’d be pissed, he thought with a slight smile. When he was done, when his nerves had for the most part settled, Shannon went to interrogation room B and stuck his head in.

Joe DiGrazia was leaning back in a chair, his eyes half closed, his hands folded on top of his thick belly. Sitting across from him was a man in his early thirties, tall, lean, with a sallow complexion and a day’s growth of stubble covering his face. The man, Kyle Rowley, looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

DiGrazia caught Shannon’s eye and gave him a signal that they needed to talk alone. He then turned to Rowley and told him he’d be right back. Rowley nodded dully in response.

Outside the interrogation room DiGrazia took a deep breath, expanding his chest half a foot. He was built like a bull, about five feet eight inches tall and practically the same width. A short, thick neck, not much hair, and a face like a granite block. He exhaled a lung full of air and made a face.

“I don’t know about this, partner,” he said. “I think the man’s genuine.”

“Why’d he report it so early?”

DiGrazia shrugged. “He was worried.”

“Tell me about him.”

“There’s not much. He’s a white-collar type, a software engineer, married four years. They have an apartment near Porter Square. And his wife’s missing. That’s about it…”

DiGrazia stopped, his eyes narrowing as he studied his partner. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Shannon said.

“You don’t look too good. Kind of nervous,” DiGrazia observed.

“I’m fine. Let’s go talk to the husband.”

They went back into the interrogation room and Shannon introduced himself to Rowley. Rowley seemed only partly aware of it, his eyes searching off into the distance.

“What time was your wife supposed to be home last night?”

“Six o’clock,” Rowley said, his eyes drifting towards Shannon but not quite making it. “Janice called me at five and told me she’d pick something up for dinner. She asked what I wanted and I told her to pick up whatever she was in the mood for. She told me she’d be home by six.”

“And after being only an hour late you thought something had happened to her?”

“I knew something had happened to her.” Rowley’s eyes met Shannon’s. They had a sickish, jaundiced look about them. “I don’t know how I knew, but I did. I came down here last night, but the officer at the front desk told me Janice had probably just stopped off someplace for a couple of drinks.”

“Wasn’t that possible?”

“No.”

“She’s never been late before?”

“Of course she has. There have been times when she’s been stuck at work, or she has a hair appointment that’s running late, but not like this. She called before leaving work that she was going to pick something up for dinner and be right home.”

“Where does she work?”

“In Watertown. She’s an accountant. Here’s her business card.” Kyle Rowley took a card from his wallet and handed it to Shannon.

The card had Janice Rowley’s work address and phone number. Shannon put it down in front of him and considered Kyle Rowley for a long moment.

“How have you and your wife been getting along?” Shannon asked at last.

Rowley tilted his head to the side, shaking it slightly. His lips pulled into a thin smile.

“I need to ask you this.”

“This isn’t anything like that,” Kyle Rowley said, his voice tired. “My wife and I love each other very much.”

“There haven’t been any problems, no fights or anything?”

“No.” Rowley’s eyes shifted upwards to lock in on Shannon’s.

“If we were to ask around we’d hear-”

“You’d hear the same thing. That me and my wife love each other. That’s all you’d hear about us.”

Shannon took a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, shook one loose, and looked at it for a long moment before pushing it back into place. He noticed DiGrazia staring at him from the corners of his thin, narrowed eyes.

“Could your wife be seeing someone else?” Shannon asked.

“No.”

“Is there the possibility-”

“No. Janice is not seeing anyone. There’s not even the possibility of it.”

“What about someone she works with?”

“I told you she’s not seeing anyone-”

“But you have suspicions, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“You had her business card ready for me. You obviously have suspicions about somebody there.”

Rowley thought it over. “I don’t think so,” he said. “You asked me where she worked. Anyway, I thought it could help to give it to you. Maybe somebody saw someone suspicious in the parking lot. Maybe somebody heard something. I don’t know. But that’s why I gave you her card. Janice is not seeing anyone.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know my wife,” Kyle Rowley said. “I know how we feel about each other.”

Something about Rowley being so cocksure of his wife bothered Shannon. Shit, half the cops he knew sooner or later found their wives in affairs. Stubbornly he kept at it. “If your wife is seeing someone I need to know about it-”

“She’s not seeing anyone. This is not anything like that.”

“What is this then?”

Pain pushed through the dullness in Kyle Rowley’s eyes. His entire face momentarily was flushed with it. “Janice was abducted,” he said. “Somebody took her. You realize that, don’t you?”

“Okay,” Shannon said, “let me be straight with you. What I realize is your wife is missing, either because she wants to be, because somebody did something to her, or because you did something to her. If we can rule you out then we can focus on the other two possibilities. Which means if your wife really was abducted, the quicker we can cross you off, the better the chance we’d have of finding her. Will you give us permission to search your apartment?”

“It’s not going to help at all-”

“I could get a warrant, but it would take time. I don’t think we want to waste time right now.”

Anger turned Rowley’s skin a soft purple. “This is ridiculous,” he started to argue, his jaw muscles hardening, “there’s nothing in my apartment that’s going to help you find my wife-”

“If you’re involved, you’re doing the right thing by stonewalling us,” Shannon said.