Sandra Brown - Ricochet

“No. In the hope that the sleep medication was working, I didn’t want to disturb her by calling.”

“I doubt she took that medication, Judge. We know she didn’t sleep.” She didn’t let his fulminating look prevent her from pressing on. “What was she wearing when you last saw her?”

“A skirt and sleeveless top. You know this, Detective Bowen. I recognized the scrap of fabric that your partner found on the carrier. It was from Elise’s skirt.”

“You’re sure? Most husbands wouldn’t notice or remember-”

“I’m not most husbands,” he said icily. “The skirt was new. I’d just brought it home to her as a gift. She had tried it on for me.”

“Did she have on the sandals with the turquoise stones?”

“She was barefoot.”

“For dinner?”

“We had dinner on trays in the bedroom.”

“I see. Mrs. Berry served you there?” He nodded. “What time did she leave?”

“I heard her tell Captain Gerard that she left around ten thirty.”

“After you, then.”

“Correct. She wanted to make certain that Elise didn’t need her.”

“Sometime after Mrs. Berry left, your wife put on her shoes and left the house in her car.”

“We don’t know the circumstances under which she left,” he said. “She could have been forced from the house.”

“Maybe, but according to Captain Gerard, who was at your house, there was no sign of a struggle, forced entry, nothing like that. We can rule out robbery because Gerard said you’d found her jewelry, wedding ring, and ear studs-sizable diamonds in both-on her dressing table.”

“That’s right.”

“So it looks like she dashed out in a hurry, doesn’t it? I mean, not even remembering to put on her wedding ring. And that’s a ring you wouldn’t likely leave behind unless you were really rattled.”

The judge stayed stonily silent, while DeeDee tapped her pencil against the legal pad on which she’d been jotting down notes. “Do you have any idea where your wife might have gone, Judge?”

“If I did, don’t you think I’d be looking for her there?”

“Does she have friends or family-”

“No.”

“Nobody she might have decided to go visit, even on the spur of the moment?”

He shook his head. “Not without telling me.”

She didn’t tell you about her visits with Coleman Greer, DeeDee thought peevishly. Tired of all the pussyfooting around, she cut to the chase. “Do you think she had an appointment with Meyer Napoli tonight?”

He leaned in close to her, his features rigid with rage. “Is this the way you solve crimes, Detective Bowen? You hound a victim’s loved ones with silly questions and draw asinine conclusions?”

Probably he didn’t expect an answer, but she gave him one. “Sometimes. You’d be surprised what witnesses know that they don’t know they know. I toss out possibilities to see if anything sticks. Often something does, and it can be that seemingly unimportant, silly fact that ultimately solves the case.”

He looked around impatiently as though searching for someone to come to his rescue. Gerard had disappeared; DeeDee assumed he was in his office. A few other detectives were milling around, trying to look busy, but actually drawn to the excitement as moths to a flame.

The judge said, “I know the importance of being thorough and precise, Detective Bowen. After all my years on the bench, I realize that crime-solving nuggets can be pried from the memory of a witness. But I know only what I’ve told you. Repeatedly,” he stressed.

She flipped back a sheet of the legal tablet so she would have a fresh page on which to take notes. “May I continue?”

And so it had gone for a grueling hour and a half. Finally, believing he had nothing else that he was able or willing to tell her, she released him to do his pacing and haranguing.

She used a phone outside the SVU to place a call to the manager of the Silver Tide Country Club. She woke up his wife, who woke him up after DeeDee identified herself and conveyed the urgency of the call. From him she got phone numbers for the club’s parking valet and bartender who’d been on duty that night.

She called them at their respective residences. Neither was happy to be called at this hour, especially after having worked a long shift. But both confirmed to her that the judge had arrived at the club shortly before ten o’clock and joined a spirited poker game. He hadn’t left until he was notified by police that Mrs. Laird’s car had been found on the narrow shoulder of the Talmadge Bridge with a dead man inside.

“When he was told that there was no sign of her, he freaked,” the bartender told DeeDee.

“I can imagine.” She asked the names of those with whom the judge had been playing cards all evening. It was a star-studded lineup of movers and shakers, including the district attorney.

If indeed it turned out that Elise Laird had met Meyer Napoli for no honest purpose, while the judge was enjoying a night of poker and single-malt scotch, he would have a lot to live down. He would look even more a fool for love than before. Some political enemies, and possibly even loyal supporters, might question whether such a fool should be chief judge of superior court.

The professional repercussions of this situation might account for some of his crankiness.

Gerard reappeared to check on how the judge was holding up, and also to ask DeeDee to notify Napoli ’s secretary of her boss’s demise and see about contacting his next of kin.

Upon hearing the news, the secretary lapsed into hysteria. It surprised DeeDee that Napoli could evoke that much emotion-except perhaps fury or repulsion-from another human being. Once she had calmed down, the secretary explained that Napoli had no relatives that she knew of and agreed to go to the morgue in the morning to identify his body.

She also demanded to know what was being done to track down the “monster” who’d shot him. DeeDee assured her that homicide detectives were on the case to do just that.

The sky was turning gray with approaching dawn and DeeDee was on her third six-pack of Diet Coke when Duncan and Worley trudged in. Worley looked exhausted and glum. Duncan looked like something dug up from Colonial Cemetery next door.

They’d barely cleared the doorway when Laird pounced on them. “Well?”

“Get us some coffee, will ya?”

DeeDee was about to remind Worley that fetching his coffee wasn’t in her job description. But she took a closer look at Duncan ’s haggard face and realized that he needed a pick-me-up, and needed it in a hurry. She went to pour two cups of coffee, but kept her ears tuned to what was being said.

“The GPA and DOT have agreed to give us the outside lane of the bridge for a while longer,” Worley said, referring to the Georgia Port Authority and the Department of Transportation. “They’re not happy about it. It’ll create a bitch of a traffic problem come morning rush hour, but we want that scene for as long as we can have it. Something may show up in daylight that we missed tonight.”

He gratefully took the Styrofoam cup of coffee from DeeDee. Duncan didn’t seem to notice the cup she extended to him until she nudged his shoulder. He looked at her blankly for several seconds, then reached for the coffee.

“Never mind the traffic jam,” Laird said. “What are you doing to locate Elise?” He addressed the question to Duncan.

“The canine unit has all the dogs out. They’re combing both banks of the river and Hutchinson Island.”

“That’s very limited. What about the other islands between here and the ocean?” the judge asked. “Are those being searched?”

No one wanted to tell him that rarely did a person make it as far as the mouth of the river. For all the accident victims and jumpers who had gone off the bridge, DeeDee knew of only one who had survived the fall. Usually a body surfaced within a few days, depending on the time of year and the temperature. It would show up somewhere along River Street or near the Corps of Engineers’ dock on Hutchinson Island, which divided that stretch of the river into two channels.