Lisa Scottoline - Devil's corner

"I had to. I couldn't reach you at the office, and he was on your speed dial. Number one."

Modern love. We used to be on each other's speed dials.

"Listen, I have news, big news, but you need to be where I can talk to you."

"I can talk here." Vicki was watching Strauss and Bale, laughing. The marshals clustered around Dan and they were laughing, too, their entrees untouched in the revelry.

"Where are you? It sounds noisy."

"It is. I'm at this dinner for work. It's a little hard to hear."

"Who's there, at the dinner?"

"Everybody from work, the detectives, the mayor. What's the difference?"

"Damn, girl! Hurry up and get yourself where you can hear me."

"Okay." Vicki walked farther away from the dining room into the empty bar. The bartender watched the Flyers on TV, but it was quieter. "Now it's fine. What?"

"What I'm going to tell you, you have to stay calm. Don't let it show. Keep a poker face."

"What?" Vicki's gut tensed. Through the doorway she could see Strauss still laughing with Bale, their heads bent together, and the marshals joking around with Dan. She looked away, to concentrate on what Reheema was saying.

"I found this neighbor who knew something, an old lady. Black. Her name is Dolores Cooper, and she lives alone, way down at the end of the block, across the street from Jackson. She doesn't know Jackson, but here's what happened." Reheema was almost breathless with excitement. "Cooper loses her dog one night about a month ago, so she goes knockin' on the neighbors' doors, up and down the street, and she knocks on Jackson's."

"And?"

"It was late at night, around eleven o'clock. Cooper knocks and knocks on the door. Nobody answers it. But she sees the lights on and she hears people, so she keeps knockin'. Still no answer, but she sees the lights on and she's buggin' about her little Taco Bell dog."

"Taco Bell dog?" "The dog with the Spanish accent. The Taco Bell dog." "A Chihuahua?" "Whatever. So she goes to the front window and looks inside the house, through an opening in the curtain." "Whoa." "I know, right? She looks inside the living room, and who does she see sitting there on the couch, inside Jackson's house?" "Who?" "Chief Bale, from your office, and a white guy." What? Vicki couldn't have heard Reheema right. She pressed the cell close enough to her ear to give herself a brain tumor. "You there?" "Say again, please," Vicki said, her mouth dry. "Cooper sees your boss ! The black one, Chief Bale, and a white guy with him." No . "That's not possible."

"She's sure of it."

"How does she know it was him?"

"I showed her the front page of today's paper, like you did yesterday. I was showing her Browning, and all of a sudden she points beside his picture to Bale. She knows Chief Bale. He was in Jackson's house last month!"

"Couldn't be. Who else's picture is on the front page?"

"Wait a minute." There was the sound of a newspaper rustling. "It's today's paper, Sunday. The page I showed her has Toner, the white van guy, and Browning and his driver, Cole. And Strauss and your boyfriend, Dan the Man. But she didn't identify them. Only Bale."

It couldn't be. Not Bale . "Who is the white guy she saw?"

"She couldn't see his face. She only could see the face of the black guy, Bale. He was closer to the window. They were both sitting on the couch."

"She must be wrong. He would have said something the night Morty and Jackson were shot."

"Vicki, Cooper identified the man. Didn't even stop to think about it. Knew Bale right off. Said she remembered him because he was a very nice dresser. Fancy suit and tie. Mustache. Handsome. Looked like a rich man. Like a lawyer, she said."

My God. It sounded exactly like Bale. Could it have been him? Did Bale know Jackson? Why hadn't he said anything?

Vicki asked, "How good are her eyes? You said she was old."

"Not that old. Sixty."

"She wear glasses?"

"No."

"Is she nuts?"

"No, she's cranky."

"Does she drink or do drugs?"

"Vicki, give it up. She saw Bale and a white guy, and she never got her Taco Bell dog back. She'll never forget that night, she says. She loved the dog. She cried when she told me the story. I spent all afternoon with her."

"What were they doing in the room, Jackson and the two men?"

"Talking."

Something was very wrong at the office. Bale. The forgeries. Montgomery and Jackson. Were they connected? How?

Vicki asked, "Then what happened?"

"Cooper left. She felt all guilty when she found out Jackson was murdered. I think she feels worse about the dog, though."

"Why didn't she tell this to the cops?" Vicki asked, but she knew the reason.

"They didn't interview her, and she was ashamed to admit she spied on the girl, anyway."

"You have her address?"

"Sure."

"I'll have to talk to her. I want to verify it."

Reheema scoffed. "Whatever, she'll tell you the same thing."

"Where are you?"

"On Jackson's street, in your car."

"Come home now. Keep moving. Montgomery's out there somewhere."

"It'll take me two hours to get back to Center City, in this snow."

"Good, call me when you're close to the restaurant and you can pick me up. I'll keep Dan's phone with me, or try the restaurant."

"Got it."

"Reheema? Good work," Vicki said, then hung up. She flipped the phone closed, her thoughts and emotions in a tumult, and looked up. In the dining room, they were all laughing, joking, and launching into a chorus of "Danny Boy," with Dan singing loudest of all:

" ‘From glen to glen, and down the mountain side, The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying, 'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.' "

Vicki couldn't go back into the room yet. She couldn't believe it. She had always trusted Bale; she liked him the best of all the brass, and now he was going to be U.S. Attorney. What had he been doing in Jackson's house? Who was the white guy? What, if anything, did any of it have to do with Montgomery? Had Bale forged those signatures, and why? Vicki didn't have any answers, but she couldn't get them standing here. She steeled herself and went back into the party, with Chief Bale and a roomful of white guys.

They were all singing with Dan, " ‘But come ye back when summer's in the meadow, Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow, 'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow, Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.' "

Ouch . Vicki met Dan's eye, then looked away.

So be it.

Vicki took her seat and faked a smile as Bale rose and started singing "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling," which brought more laughter from the crowd. Beer and wine flowed freely, and the entrees were forgotten. The waitresses arrived with acute triangles of cherry cheesecake and set the desserts in front of each seat, whether occupied or not; obviously the staff wanted to end this meal quickly and close the restaurant because of the storm. Vicki wished them luck; she had seen this floor show at the Christmas party. It started in Ireland and ended in Motown.

Bale led the singing, into a knife microphone, " ‘Sure 'tis like the morn in Spring, In the lilt of Irish laughter, you can hear the angels sing.' "

Vicki plastered her smile in place and sipped the Coke that had been put beside her plate. Rum. Ugh. She sipped it because she felt thirsty and watched the action, thinking. She couldn't bring herself to accept that Bale knew Jackson, but she couldn't imagine why else he'd be there, only a month ago. Did Bale have something to do with framing Reheema? And who was the white guy? Could it be someone else from the office? The thought stunned her. But what was the connection to Montgomery and the forgeries?