Joan Pickart - Body of Evidence

“A confidentiality clause?” Darien asked, the first time she’d spoken since the interview had begun.

The woman looked at her. “Exactly. I’ve not broken that trust for ten years, and I’m not about to start now.”

Darien hesitated, then asked softly, “But the person you promised confidentiality to is dead. Doesn’t that void your responsibility, especially if it will help find who killed him?”

Mrs. Hobart looked thoughtful, gave a half nod, opened her mouth to speak. And then abruptly stopped.

“Mrs. Hobart?” Waters said.

“I work for the Gardner family,” she said. And crossed her arms in front of her as if that answered all.

“And I work for the city of Chicago,” Waters said, his voice suddenly flinty. “It’s my job to find out what really happened here last night. And I will, Mrs. Hobart. By whatever means necessary.”

The woman drew back slightly, as if she felt intimidated. I would, Darien thought.

She’d never seen Colin Waters in investigative mode before, but she knew his reputation, and she quickly decided to stay quiet so she could watch and learn.

“I’m sure the Gardner family wouldn’t appreciate it becoming public knowledge that one of their employees had to be forced to cooperate with the investigation of the homicide of one of their own.”

His tone had gone icy, and it worked. The woman visibly quailed, and Darien saw her swallow nervously. But she still maintained her silence. So did Waters, until Darien wondered if he was waiting for her to step in.

“Perhaps we should call Mrs. Gardner,” Darien said. “I’m sure she would tell you she wants you to cooperate.”

Waters shot her a look that told her without doubt that he thought she’d just made a big mistake. But she’d begun now, and he didn’t stop her, so she had no choice but to go on.

“I mean, she’s already told our commander she wants all the stops pulled out in this investigation.”

“She has?” the woman asked, looking doubtful. “Well…”

Waters’s expression changed, although Darien wasn’t sure what the sideways look he gave her then meant.

When the woman still hesitated, Waters put in, “We’ll check the security tapes, of course, but you’d save us a lot of time.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh. The cameras.”

She’d forgotten about them, Darien thought. And now that she’s remembered, she’s not happy. Interesting.

Waters gave her a moment longer to consider before he said, “And after all, we only need to know the names of any frequent visitors Mr. Gardner had, and of course any he had last night.”

With a tiny sigh, she surrendered. “Many people came to see him often. Business people, and friends.”

“Family?”

“Of course,” she said, giving Waters a withering look. “Mrs. Gardner comes frequently, and Mr. Lyle.”

If Waters noticed the absence of Stephen, the dead man’s son-and heir-on the visitor list, he didn’t show it. But Darien was certain it had registered.

“Who came the most often outside of family?”

She frowned. “I suppose Mr. Bartley. And Mr. Reicher.”

The victim’s administrative assistant and the chief operating officer of the Gardner Corporation respectively, Darien thought, recalling the organizational chart she’d seen in the file Waters had given her to scan when they’d arrived.

“Who was here yesterday?”

“Mr. Lyle, early in the day, for just a few minutes. No one else that I know of.”

“And last night?”

“I said I don’t know if anyone came to visit him last night. He went out for dinner, didn’t get home until ten, like I told those other detectives. He told me to go on to bed, he wouldn’t be needing me.”

“Was that unusual?” Darien asked.

“No. Mr. Gardner liked his privacy.”

Waters studied her for a moment. “Especially if he was going to have female company?”

Darien realized he’d voiced the thought she’d just had, and she wondered what had been in the woman’s voice to make them both think of this.

“I don’t intrude into such things.”

“It must have been hard to keep track anyway,” Darien said empathetically. “He was a very handsome and wealthy man.”

“Yes.” For a moment genuine pain showed in the woman’s face. “But it was more than that. He had something special. Charisma, they call it.”

“Did Mr. Gardner’s lady friends tend to be happy with him?” Waters asked.

“Not that it’s anyone’s business, but he always treated them well.”

“But never married any of them,” Darien observed.

“He had to be careful. A man in his position could never be sure if they were genuine or after his money. It’s always been that way.”

Poor little rich boy, Darien thought, but said nothing.

“Did he anger anyone in that process?”

“A woman he was seeing, you mean? Enough to…murder him?”

Oddly, her voice sounded merely thoughtful, not startled or shocked at the question. And it was only seconds before she was shaking her head.

“No. I can’t imagine any woman he’d been seeing doing such a thing.”

“You knew them, then?”

“I met most of them.”

“Liked them?”

“It wasn’t my place to like or dislike them.”

That was the end of the woman’s cooperation. Darien couldn’t decide if she was showing loyalty to her long-time employer, or if she had something to hide. Judging by the way Waters was looking at her, he was wondering the same thing.

“Now what?” Darien asked as Waters dismissed the woman.

“What do you think?”

Darien knew he was testing her. She wasn’t a fool, she knew some people thought she’d sailed into this position over the heads of others who had more right to it than she had. She’d thought about refusing it for that reason, but Tony had talked her out of it, pointing out they might decide she didn’t want the job badly enough and she’d never get another chance. Her ex-husband was good for that, twisting the point of view to make you see the other side. It was one of the things she loved about him although it didn’t outweigh the reasons she couldn’t live with him.

But now she had to focus on what was happening here. Patrol officers had thankfully already done a canvas of the immediate neighbors, with minimal results, not surprising given the separation between the penthouse and the rest of the building.

“We need to interview the family, but while we’re still here and he’s primed…the super?” she asked.

“ Benton already talked to him this morning when they got the call. Think we need to bother him again?”

She weighed that one for a moment, then went with her gut. “We’re going to be who he sees from now on, he might as well get used to our faces.”

Waters grinned suddenly. It lit up those amber eyes, and Darien felt as if the sun had come out on this blustery March day. “His place is on the ground floor. Let’s go,” he said.

On the way down in the elevator, Waters leaned against the wall and looked around at the expensive marble and carved wood. He gave a slight shake of his head as he mused aloud. “Looks, power, wealth, charisma. He had it all, didn’t he?”

“For all the good it did him,” Darien said.

“There is that,” Waters agreed, and Darien knew he was thinking, as she was, that all the wealth in the world couldn’t help the man who now lay on a slab in the morgue.

She was doing okay, Colin thought. Wilson had picked right up on the cue he’d given her when the building superintendent’s wife had launched into a tirade about the arrogance of Franklin Gardner, not letting the super himself get a word in edgewise.

“Is he in trouble with the police? Good,” the woman had snapped. “Some kind of financial fraud, I’ll bet. That’s what it always is with his kind.”