They put Zucker into the first interrogation room in the
hall and Stacy Carter in the second. Then, they put an officer at each door and
went to Nickolas's office. He had other people in there, and he looked to be
yelling. Emilie and Patrick propped themselves up on the wall and waited their
turn.
"We need to get Dennis Tyler back in here."
Patrick ruffled the hair at the back of his head. "Things getting a little
twisted to you?"
"Our only witness gets busted giving a blowjob to one of our suspects when
she's supposed to be a lesbian and still in the hospital in hysterics. This is
more than a little twisted." Emilie thumped her knuckles impatiently
against the wall. "Who's he yelling at?"
Patrick craned his neck to see into Nickolas's office. "Looks like Fred
and Matt. What are they working right now?"
"The double murder down at the west edge of the boundry. Old woman was
killed in her apartment with her own steak knife."
"That case is three weeks old." Patrick whistled under his breath.
"We've been getting bitched at to clear as many open cases as possible to
make the numbers look good this year. They're going to come out of there will
missing fingers."
"And a singed eyebrow or two if fire starts coming out of Nickolas's
mouth." Emilie thumped her knuckles again and looked around the squadroom.
"Where's the Doll at?"
Patrick grinned. "Need a quickie?" He squirmed as Emilie dug a finger
into his ribs. "Sorry. Sorry. To easy."
"You're a bastard." Emilie didn't sound like she particularly cared
that Patrick was one. She heard Nickolas's office door open and pushed off the
wall. "Finally." She watched, a small smile playing on her face as
Fred and Matt walked by looking shaken buy alive. "Poor bastards."
"Don't tease. We may be next."
Nickolas looked up from signing forms when they walked in. "You better
have good news." His voice had the edge of a man who was at the end of his
patience.
Patrick decided not to ask if everything was all right. "We went to get
Zucker and found Stacy Carter down on her knees in front of him. They're both
here now. We want to get Dennis Tyler back in here."
Nickolas looked between both of them a couple of times before speaking.
"By the pricking of my thumbs." He nodded. "Get someone to go
bring him up here. What have you told Zucker and Stacy Carter?"
"We need their sworn statements from yesterday." Emilie shrugged.
"We could "lose" Dennis Tyler's statement from last night and
have him come back in."
"He'll be pissed."
"We can deal."
Nickolas thought it over for a minute. "Get him back in here, then. Make
sure his first statement gets shredded. Twice."
Patrick and Emilie nodded. "Got it."
Emilie looked into the squadroom again. Still no Kendall. "Where's the Doll?"
"He went down to the medical examiner's office. He had a couple of
questions about the autopsy."
"I want him to handle Dennis Tyler when he gets back. He won't talk to me,
and he can't talk to Patrick."
"I'll have Tara send him to me as soon as he hits the door."
"Thanks." Emilie turned and left the office. Patrick was a step
behind her.
"Patrick."
He turned back around to face Nickolas. "Yeah?"
"Any idea how she got that bite on her neck?"
Patrick played dumb. "No idea. You'd have to ask her."
Nickolas gave him a look. "Maybe I should ask Kendall."
"Maybe." Patrick left the office and walked back towards the
interrogation rooms. He nodded at Emilie and walked into the room that held
Zucker. "Mr. Zucker."
Zucker sat at the table looking angrier than he had when he'd been picked up.
He gave Patrick a dirty look. "Can we get this over with, Detective? I
have a business to run."
~And a hummer to finish.~ Patrick sat at the table and placed a statment sheet
and a pen on the top. He made himself comfortable and uncapped the pen. "I
just want to go over the events of yesterday morning with you again. We need to
get it signed and sworn so we have something official on file."
"How long will this take?" Mr. Zucker was getting huffy.
Patrick kept his voice even. "As long as it takes." He opened his
notebook and flipped to a clean page. "Okay, let's start from the
beginning."
*
Stacy Carter was twitching the twitch of someone coming off a high. She tapped
her foot against her chair leg, twisted her hair around her finger, and gnawed
at her bottom lip.
Emilie sat in front of her with a bussinesslike air, shuffling her papers a
little, pulling an extra pen from her inside jacket pocket, and not once
looking over at Starcy Carter.
"Could I get something to eat?" Stacy's foot sped up it's tapping on
her chair leg.
Emilie uncapped both pens and set them parrallel to the forms. "Not right
now. I want to get this done as quickly as possible." She finally looked
up at Stacy Carter. "You said the last time you saw Esmerelda Lowenstein
alive was when you left the back room to lock the door to the club,
correct?"
"Yeah."
"I want to go back from there and get your version of events from the
whole nights." Emilie looked down at her notebook and fired off questions
rapidly. "What time did you get to work?"
"Seven-thirty."
"Was Esmerelda there?"
"Yes."
"Where was she when you arrived?"
"She was in the dressing room."
"What was she doing?"
"She was reading."
"Did you say anything to her?"
"I said hi." Stacy Carter stopped twisting her hair and started
clicking her fingernails on the tabletop. "Can I at least have something
to drink?"
"In a minute."
*
"What time did you get to *Tallywackers* last night?"
Mr. Zucker was still looking pissed. "Six o'clock."
Patrick was keeping his voice at an even, slightly bored tone. "Why did
you get there so early? The club opens at eight."
"I had to check the lighting on the back stage. Two of the bulbs had
burned out the night before, and I wanted to make sure they were in working
order for tonight."
"And what time did Esmerelda arrive?"
"I'm not sure."
Patrick looked up from his notebook. "You're not sure?"
Mr. Zucker's face got slightly pink. "No."
"Do your employees clock in when they come to work, Mr. Zucker?"
"Yes."
"Have you looked at the time cards since last night?"
"No."
"Well, we have." Patrick flipped his notebook back a few pages.
"And we show that Esmerelda clocked in at six fifty-eight. Any idea why
she showed up so early?"
"No." Zucker's face was getting pinker.
"Did you speak to her when she arrived?"
"I did not."
"Didn't ask her for a pre-shift hummer?" Mr. Zucker's face went from
pink to red. Patrick noted idly that his forehead seemed to get redder than the
rest of his face, and he wondered if steam would start coming out of the man's
ears.
"I didn't speak to her all night."
"Except to request her services to get you off after everyone went home
last night."
"Wait a minute!" Mr. Zucker jumped up from his chair, sending it
toppling across the room with a clatter.
Patrick stood up a little more slowly, looking down at Mr. Zucker and giving a
quick silent thanks to the powers above that he cleared six-five while Zucker
was holding at six-two. "Sit down, Mr. Zucker."
"I will not."
"You will. You have a statement to finish, and if you don't finish it,
I'll be forced to add you to the very short list of people we have as suspects
for Esmerelda Lowenstein's murder."
"You can't do that!" Mr. Zucker looked nearly ready to turn the table
on end.
Patrick leaned against it, hoping his extra weight would discourage the other
man. "I can and will. If you storm out of here refusing to finish your
statement because you're mad because we discovered your backroom secret, it'll
make me suspicious. And I will put your name on the list, and my partner and I
will start asking everyone who knows you everything about you. That includes
talking to any former employees you have out there that may have quit because
they weren't thrilled with your business practices."
"I didn't request anything from her! She came to me!"
Patrick didn't buy it for a second, but he put a suprised expression on his
face, anyway. "Oh?"
"She came to me." Zucker said it a little more quietly and with an
edge of defensiveness in his voice. "She came into my office between her
sets and said she needed the extra money this week. She didn't say for what.
She asked if we could work out a deal."
"And who hammered out the details of the deal?" Patrick sat back down
slowly, watching Zucker carefully as he did the same.
"I did."
"And how did she respond?"
"She said okay." Zucker placed his hands on the tabletop. "She
agreed to wait in the back room after she was done for the night and give a
private performance."
"With Stacy Carter?"
"No."
Patrick tapped his pen on his notepad, leaving tiny blue dots in his wake.
"Did you set it up so that she'd *perform*", he ladeled heavy sarcasm
on the word, "with Stacy Carter?"
"No." Zucker took a deep breath. "Stacy was in my office last
night when Esmerelda came in. She was under the desk and heard Esmerelda tell
me she needed money. When she was left, Stacy said that she wanted to perform
with Esmerelda."
Patrick's radar started beeping madly. "Stacy Carter specifically
requested to perform for you with Esmerelda Lowenstein?"
"Yes."
"Okay." Patrick needed to get out of the room and grab Emilie fast,
but if he left suddenly it would be suspicious. He went back to his questions
about the night before and hoped Stacy Carter was talkative.
*
Kendall walked into the police station shivering like he'd been standing
outside naked in the snow. Considering how cold it was, it wasn't hard to
imagine. He wondered briefly if you could freeze to death inside a heated
building because you were still so cold, but he abandoned the thought as he got
to the squadroom and dropped a bag of gummi worms on Tara's desk.
"Messages?"
She tore open the gummi worms and started seperating them by color. "The
Lieutenant wants to see you."
"About?"
Tara shrugged. "He didn't say. He just told me to send you straight to him
when you got back."
"All right. Thanks." Kendall unwound his scarf from around his neck.
He watched Tara practically inhale three gummi worms. "If you choke,
you're on your own for the Hemlich."
"Love you, too."
Kendall ruffled her hair and walked back to Nickolas's office. He knocked.
"Come in."
He walked in and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Tara said you needed to
see me."
"When Emilie and Patrick went to pick up Mr. Zucker tonight, Stacy Carter
was found on sitting on the floor."
Kendall whistled under his breath. "I'm going to assume she wasn't looking
for a missing contact."
"You'll be a big-time detective yet."
"Gee, you think I could boss? Really?"
Nickolas gave a small grin. "Just maybe. Anyway, we've got Emilie talking
to Stacy and Patrick dealing with Zucker, and I want you to talk to Dennis
Tyler when they bring him in. We've lost his statement."
"Oh, say it isn't so."
"It somehow got shredded. Twice."
Kendall grinned wickedly. "I think I'll hold that bit of information back.
Wouldn't want him to think that something was off around here."
"No, we wouldn't. Get out of here." Nickolas let him get his hand on
the doorknob before asking the question that was itching at his brain. "Kendall,"
he kept his tone conversational.
"Yeah?" Kendall looked over his shoulder.
"Did you happen to notice anything odd about Emilie's neck tonight?"
"No. Should I have?"
"She has bite marks."
"Oh, yeah?" Kendall's eyebrows were raised in what could have been
surprise if Nickolas would have been blind enough to fall for it.
"Yeah." Nickolas gave him a pointed look. ~If you're going to fool
around, don't leave evidence.~
"I'll have to bring that up to her. See what she says."
"What kind of funeral service would you like?"
"Small. Intimate. No flowers, please."
Nickolas pointed at his door. "Go do your job."
"I'm on it." Kendall left the office and went to his desk. He
setelled in and kept one eye on the door while he shifted files around and tried
to keep busy. He didn't have to wait very long. Five minutes after he'd started
organizing his files, two patrolmen walked in with Dennis Tyler walking between
them. Kendall looked down at his desk and counted to fifteen before looking up
and making a quick sweep of the room with his eyes. He pretended to be
surprised that Dennis Tyler was sitting on the bench in front of Tara's desk.
He stood up and walked over. "Mr. Tyler, what are you doing back?"
Dennis Tyler turned away from oogling Tara and looked up at Kendall. "A
couple of cops showed up at my place tonight and said that my statement from
last night got lost, and that I needed to come back and give one again."
Kendall rolled his eyes. "That's a pain in the ass. You can thank our
brilliant file clerk for that." He looked around and pretended to muse
something over for a few seconds. "Tell you what, I've got a couple of
minutes, why don't I take your statement again. Personally, I wouldn't trust
one of those guys that brought you in to do it. They're both a little
thick."
"You sure?"
Kendall shrugged. "Why not? I've got time. And it'll get you out of here
more quickly. I'm guessing you have places to be."
"Yeah." Dennis Tyler got up and tried to be subtle in trying to get a
peek at Tara's cleavage that was well-covered in her sweater. He followed
Kendall down the hall and to the third room on the left. "Nice looking
secretary you've got out there."
"She's got good legs, too." Kendall made a mental note to apologize
to Tara for making comments about her legs to this sleeze. He also made a note
to apologize for Dennis Tyler calling her a secretary. She hated that term. He
watche Dennis Tyler sit down. "I've got to run and grab the statment form.
You want a cup of coffee or anything?"
"Coffee's good. Black. Thanks."
"Hey, no problem. We've screwed you over, remember?" Kendall gave
Dennis Tyler a friendly smile and stepped back into the hallway. Emilie was
outside the door to the second interrogation room, and she jerked her thumb in
its direction.
"Stacy Carter. She's thirsty."
"And I see you're just eager to make her as comfortable as possible."
Kendall nodded towards the first door in the hall. "Mr. Zucker, I
presume?"
"Yeah. Patrick's with him."
"What's Stacy Carter had to say?"
"Not much so far. She claims she didn't talk to Esmerelda at all last
night."
"You don't buy it."
"She's twitching like she's coming down from something. I'm not willing to
suspend my disbelief that far."
Kendall nodded. "Understood."
Emilie dug into her pants pocket and pulled out her lighter, a small pillbox,
an extra pen, a ponytail holder, and a small silver dome with a clasp on one
end. She plucked the dome from the pile in her hand and held it out to Kendall.
"Found this by my nightstand."
Kendall took the cufflink from her. "Thanks." He slid it into his own
pocket. "I bit you last night?"
"Yeah."
"I'll refrain from doing that in the future."
"Thanks." Emilie's tone was dry. "Has Tyler said anything
yet?"
"Nothing. I'm getting him coffee. Or supposed to be."
The door to the first room in the hall opened and Patrick walked out. He paused
at the sight of Emilie and Kendall standing close with their heads bent towards
one another, but wisely held the thoughts following that image to himself. He
walked over. "Why are we whispering?"
"I've got Dennis Tyler in the third room. He doesn't know you two have
Stacy Carter and Zucker here. I want to keep it that way."
Patrick nodded. "Okay. Have you started in on him yet?"
"Not yet. I'm getting him coffee right now."
"Okay. I just got some interesting information from Zucker. He says that
Esmerlda approached him about keeping some of her tips, and he propositioned
her for a private show. During the conversation, Stacy Carter was under the
desk doing pretty much the same thing she was doing when we found her this
evening, and she volunteered herself to help Esmerelda with her private show
last night."
"You're shitting me." Emilie spoke as if someone had just told her
that her desk was lined with gold.
"I shit you not."
"I've never understood that phrase." Kendall suddenly found himself
on the receiving end of two slightly confused looks. "What?"
Emilie reached up and flicked him on the forehead. "Concentrate."
Kendall rubbed his forehead. "Sorry. So Stacy Carter put herself in that
room last night?"
"Sounds like it."
"Any word from Zucker on whether Tyler was there last night?"
"Not yet. Do you think you can get Tyler to say he was there?"
"Probably. We're bonding." Kendall peeked in the small window of his
interrogation room. "He's starting to look antsy. I've got to get his
coffee. Knock on the door if you need me." Kendall headed down the hall.
Patrick gave Emilie a smile. "Nice of you to keep him in line."
Emilie rolled her eyes. "Shut up." She went down the hall after
Kendall.
Patrick shrugged and went back into the room holding Zucker. "Sorry, we
had to put on a fresh pot of coffee. It'll be a few minutes. Would you like a
glass of water instead?"
Zucker shook his head. "No. I just want to get out of here."
"I understand. You have a business to run." Patrick sat back down at
the table and picked his pen up again. "Let's see if we can get through
this quickly but consisely, okay?"
"Fine." Zucker was looking impatient again.
"Between the hours of six and eight, what did you do?"
"I was setting up the club for the night. I checked the back stage lights,
then I checked the other stage lights, and then I gave the club the once-over.
I checked the bar to make sure it was stocked, and then I went into my office
to go over the numbers from the night before."
"Do you do your own accounting?"
Zucker shook his head. "We have an accountant on the payroll. She comes in
once a week. In between that, I look at the books to make sure they balance. I
run a legitimate business."
"I don't care if you do at this point. I'm more interested in the events
of last night." Patrick looked down at his notebook where he was recording
the events of the night before. "You open at eight, correct?"
"Yes."
"Did you open on time?"
"Yes."
"When was the first time you saw Esmerelda?"
Zucker thought for a moment. "Probably about eight-fiteen. Her set started
at eight-twenty, and I was backstage checking on the girls before they went
on."
~Checking on or checking out?~ Patrick made a note of the time Zucker gave him.
"Did you watch her set?"
"I was making my way around the tables greeting customers. I saw her in my
periphial vision, but that was it."
"What did you do after greeting your customers?"
"I went back to my office."
"And?"
"And Stacy was there."
Patrick looked up from his notebook. "Does she meet you in your office a
lot?"
Zucker shrugged. "Some nights she's there. Some nights she's not. I don't
make an appointment with her."
"And do you do the same thing everytime you find her in your office?"
"Usually."
Patrick wondered if Zucker would notice that he'd steered him away from the
events of the night and into a conversation about the situation in general. He
decided to press his luck. "Did she mention Esmerelda to you?"
"No."
"Not even last night?"
"Not until she walked in."
"What time did Esmerelda walk in?"
Zucker shrugged. "I wasn't exactly watching the clock."
Patrick ignored the leer in the other man's voice. "And what did she
say?"
"She said she needed to keep her tips this week."
"Did she say for what?"
"No."
"After she said she needed to keep her tips, what did you say?"
"I told her we could work something out."
Patrick nodded. "And that's when you arranged a deal with her?"
"Yeah."
"What were the parameters of the deal?"
"I told her if she'd give me a private performance I'd let her keep her
tips."
Patrick looked up from his notebook. "Define private performance."
Zucker sighed and looked slightly pained. "I told her if she'd get herself
off in front of me I'd let her keep her money."
"Okay." Patrick gave Zucker a smile that let him know he didn't care
if Zucker was uncomfortable or not. "And Stacy heard all of this?"
"Yeah. She was right under the desk."
"And what did she say?"
"She asked if she could join in."
"Did she need her tips for something?"
Zucker shook her head. "She said she'd work for free."
*
Kendall put a cup of coffee in front of Dennis Tyler. "Sorry for the wait.
Our coffee machine is broken and there was a line a mile long down the
hall."
"Hey, no problem. Just want to get this over with." Dennis Tyler
sipped his coffee. "How long will this take?"
Kendall shrugged. "Shouldn't take more than an hour, if that." He sat
down and waved the statement form in front of Dennis Tyler. "Rememberd
this, too. I nearly forgot it." He got himself settled. "Let's just
take this from the top. What time did you get to the club last night?"
"Just after eight-thirty. I had to go to the store after work, so it held
me up."
"Okay. And what happened when you got there?"
"I sat down, had a drink, and watched some girls dance. Same as any other
night?"
"How often are you at *Tallywackers*?" Kendall measured out his voice
so he sounded like he was leading up to something he had just thought of.
Dennis Tyler shrugged. "Most nights."
"Were you there the night Esmerelda Lowenstein was killed?"
"Wait? What? When did that happen?" Dennis Tyler's reaction was just
a hair to quick to be authentic.
Kendall shark-grinned inwardly. "Yesterday morning around three in the
morning. You didn't know?"
Dennis Tyler shook his head. "No. I hadn't heard."
~You're lying.~ It was a singsong in Kendall's head. "Wow. Sorry." He
tried to give a sympathetic smile. "She was your favorite, right?"
"Yeah." Dennis Tyler looked suitably distraught. It was false,
Kendall could tell. "What happened?"
"She was hit in the back of the head." Kendall pretended to shake
himself of the thought. "So, were you there?"
"Yeah, I was there. Esmerlda gets top billing on Tuesdays. I wouldn't have
missed it."
"Did you see anything *odd*?" Kendall spoke slowly, like he was still
hammering out what questions to ask.
"I didn't see anything."
"Did you maybe hear something?"
Dennis Tyler shook his head. "Not that I remember."
Kendall flipped through his notebook, pretending to look for information.
"Have you ever seen Stacy Carter dance?"
"Sure."
"Did she ever seem to have anything against Esmerelda?"
Dennis Tyler's eyes got wide. "Is Stace a suspect?"
~Stace? Never known a guy to call a dancer by a nickname before.~ Kendall
played off Dennis's question. "We have to ask about all the dancers.
Stacy's name is just the first in my notebook."
"Oh. Okay." Dennis Tyler was distinctly uncomfortable. "I never
saw any discomfort between Stace and Esmerelda."
"Never?"
"Never."
Kendall closed his notebook. "Okay." He scribbled his pen around the
edge of the statement form a couple of times. "Aw, damn it. My pen's out
of ink." He stood up. "Hold on. I'll be right back." He left the
room as quickly as he could without looking suspcious. He had to grab Emilie.