William Bernhardt - Capitol Murder

Ben knew he was staring at a brick wall, and nothing less than a cannonball was going to get him through it. He realized how spoiled he had been, working in Tulsa, where his best friend and former brother-in-law was a homicide detective. Mike usually kept him involved and shared pertinent information, even when it infuriated the prosecutors. Obviously he was not going to get the same courtesy from this detective.

He retreated to the doorway, where he found Glancy with Christina. “They found a corpse.”

“We know,” Christina said. No surprise there. Christina was infinitely better at working people than he was. “I got the skivvy from the hunk posted outside the door. It’s Veronica Cooper. The young woman in the video.” Both Ben and Christina slowly turned toward Glancy.

“What are you looking at me for? I didn’t have anything to do with it! I’ve been in the cafeteria with you, remember?”

“And before that?”

“I’ve been in and out of my office. At a committee meeting. In case you didn’t notice, we’ve had a fairly busy morning. I haven’t had time to come down here. But anyone could’ve gotten in.”

“Anyone could have, maybe, but why would they?” Ben surveyed the scene. The videographers were making their visual records, the hair and fiber teams were crawling on their hands and knees searching for trace evidence, and a chemical ID team was coating the floor with luminol. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Todd, but that serious problem you had? It just got a hell of a lot worse.”

The police officers wouldn’t cooperate with Ben at all, but they couldn’t evict him, at least not beyond the perimeter of the crime scene tape. Ben suspected they really didn’t want to; they knew that if he left, Glancy would go with him, and they wanted the senator on tap. So far there had been no questioning. Albertson was probably waiting until he knew as much as possible before he started interrogating their most likely suspect.

Christina continued to schmooze the officer at the gate and anyone else whose ear she could bend. She was amazing. Never once did she do anything that could be called flirting, but at the same time she had an instinctive knack for making people like her, for figuring out the best way to loosen someone’s tongue. At the end of the day, she would have more insight on the situation than Ben could get in a week.

Ben was still standing outside the door when the coroner’s team took the body out of the office. They seemed nervous, and Ben could understand why; it was a fair bet they’d never been asked to haul a corpse out of the U.S. Senate before. At one point an assistant stumbled and the top sheet slipped. Glancy averted his eyes. Ben didn’t.

Her face was ashen and gray, but there was no doubt that it was the woman in the video. She was wearing more clothing now, but not that much more. Her white blouse was open three buttons down, exposing her neck and a significant amount of cleavage. She was wearing a short but professional-looking skirt, red and blue plaid, and red pumps.

Once the sheet was replaced and the corpse removed, Glancy turned back around. “My God,” he whispered. “Who would’ve done this to her?”

Ben had no answer for him. But he suspected that every law enforcement officer in the room did, and that it was an answer Glancy was not going to like.

Christina pulled a chair beside Hazel, the receptionist, and tried to comfort her. She was still sobbing, blowing her nose, wailing about “that sweet girl who never wanted to hurt anyone,” a dolorous expression engraved on her face.

It was really no business of hers, but Christina noticed that no one else in the office was paying Hazel any attention. Certainly not Amanda, who still bore a stony expression and periodically thrust herself into the police officers’ paths for no apparent purpose other than being an irritant. She overheard a conversation between Lieutenant Albertson and his sergeant in the corridor. They didn’t know she was with Ben; neither even looked her way as they talked.

“What do you make of it?” the sergeant asked in hushed tones.

“Got no idea,” Albertson answered. “It’s too crazy. But the evidence all points in one direction.”

“Think he did her in there?”

“The CSIs haven’t found blood anywhere else.”

“I guess you noticed she wasn’t wearing panties.”

“Be hard to miss.”

“Think Glancy decided to go back for seconds? Maybe she didn’t like it, and-pow.”

Albertson grunted. “Hard to know. A man who would do what he did in that video is capable of anything, far as I’m concerned. Think we’ve got enough?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Me, too. Let’s do it.”

Christina raised her arms, not dramatically, just enough to get Ben’s attention. While he was watching, she locked her fingers around each wrist, pantomiming handcuffs. Which probably wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. But they’d been working together for a long time. He’d get the message.

“Senator Glancy,” Lieutenant Albertson said, as he strolled casually toward the senator and Ben, a friendly expression on his face. “I think I’m ready to ask you those questions now. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“Of course,” Glancy said. “Anything I can do to help.” He glanced at the still-blood-soaked sofa, his eyes filled with regret. “I tried to warn that girl.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Warn her?” Albertson asked. “About what?”

“Don’t answer,” Ben interjected.

The lieutenant and Glancy both stared at him. “Beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Don’t answer.”

“Well, then let me ask this,” the lieutenant said. “How long have you been in this building today?”

“Don’t answer,” Ben insisted. “I’m cutting this off now. No more questions.”

Glancy protested. “But, Ben-”

“You heard me. Don’t say a word.”

Albertson frowned. “May I ask on what authority you’re impeding this investigation?”

“I’m Senator Glancy’s attorney. And he has the right to remain silent, as you very well know, even though you seem to have forgotten to read him his Miranda rights.”

“It was my understanding you were representing the senator with regard to a civil matter, not a criminal one. As for the Miranda rights, this is not a custodial interrogation. We just want to ask the senator a few questions.”

“What do you take me for?” Ben shot back. “I’m his attorney in all regards until you hear otherwise. He’s not talking and that’s-”

“Excuse me, may I be of service?” It was Marshall Bressler, suddenly wheeling up beside them.

“Where did you come from?” Ben asked.

Bressler smiled. “The entire building is wheelchair-accessible, Ben. Including the basement. Federal law.” He looked up at the police lieutenant. “I’m the senator’s top aide. His administrative assistant.”

“All we want is to ask the senator a few questions.”

Ben jumped in. “And I absolutely forbid it.”

Bressler gave Ben a stern look. “Failure to cooperate with a criminal investigation is a serious matter. We could get all kinds of bad press.”

“I agree,” Glancy said. “I don’t see any reason not to assist the police, Ben. If I can help them find the man that did this-”

“Don’t kid yourself, Todd. They think they already have.”

“What? Are you suggesting-”

“No, but they will.”

Lieutenant Albertson tried again. “It would be very helpful if we could just get clarification on a few points about the senator’s whereabouts and-”

“He’s not talking.”

“Is that right?” Albertson said, exasperated, addressing the senator.

“You heard what I said,” Ben said forcefully.