Hearts of Sand(88)

“Okay,” Gregor said. “Did you really come all the way out from New York on the Fourth of July?”

“I had to,” Andy said. “I know we’ve talked on the phone, but the Bureau is going completely crazy over everything that’s going on in Connecticut. That thing about the crime lab losing its accreditation—that was bad enough.”

Gregor looked at the young woman behind the desk. “Is anybody here?” he asked. “I was just at the War Memorial—”

“They’ll be another hour or about that,” the young woman said. “I’ve got everybody’s cell phone numbers if there’s an emergency, but mostly they’re supposed to be in the crowd, listening to the speeches.”

“I feel like I went down the rabbit hole,” Andy said. “They’ve got a murder, for God’s sake, and the whole police force is listening to speeches and marching in a parade.”

“It was the other way around,” Gregor said. He turned to the young woman again. “Is there somewhere Andy and I can sit and talk in private?” he asked. “We can talk while we wait for the chief to come back.”

“There’s an entire building for you to sit and be private in,” the young woman said. “Why don’t you go back down that way and use the third room on the right.”

Gregor led Andy down the hall as if he knew what he was doing.

He opened the third door on the right when he got to it and found a small conference room with a round table and six chairs. Andy had a large, bulky briefcase. He put it on the table and opened it.

“In a way, it’s good I found you by yourself,” he said. “You understand that I can’t tell you very much about the operation we’ve been running.”

“Of course,” Gregor said. “I don’t expect you to blow your operation.”

“Well, blowing the operation may be moot. We got a judge out of bed at five o’clock this morning and we should be moving right this minute. I know you think it’s certain that Kyle wasn’t murdered by somebody connected to our case, but we can’t take any chances. If his cover was blown, we could lose a lot of valuable evidence. And we need the evidence. This is the largest case of its kind since the founding of the Bureau. The publicity is going to be insane.”

“I know what that’s like,” Gregor said. “What I don’t know is what you need from us.”

“I need to talk to everybody who was at the scene last night—all the professionals, I mean. I need to go back to the office with a clearer idea of what happened and of whether or not it could be part of what we’re doing.”

“Let me ask you something,” Gregor said. “Is anybody under investigation in your operation a resident of Alwych, Connecticut?”

“Half a dozen people are,” Andy said. “This is a bedroom community for New York City. Half the Financial District lives in Alwych or Westport or Darien.”

“What about people who are not part of the bedroom community? What about the people who live and work here full-time?”

Andy looked uncomfortable.

“I’m not asking you for names. It’s just that I’m about ninety-nine percent sure I know what happened here, and why, and the only person the narrative fits is someone who lives and works here.”

“So,” Andy said. “You think this is all about the robberies.”

“No,” Gregor said. “I don’t think it’s all about the robberies. The robberies come into it, but only peripherally, only because they provided a catalyst for something considerably less sane. But it’s the only explanation that takes in both murders, and the only one that explains where the money is.”

“The robbery money?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought you said this wasn’t about the robberies.”

“It’s complicated,” Gregor said.

“I’ve got to tell you,” Andy said, “I never expected it to be like this. This is my first really big operation. I’ve been champing at the bit to get one. Now I feel like I just ate glass.”

“It won’t be that bad on your third big operation,” Gregor said. “Take it from somebody with experience. As soon as Jason Battlesea gets back, we’ll see if we can hook you up with the ME. You may not have any joy, though. The body wasn’t shipped out until late last night. It’s entirely possible that nobody has gotten to it yet.”

“God, I hate these small towns,” Andy said. “Give me a big city any day, where everybody works twenty-four/seven and you don’t have to factor in parades when you need some forensic answers.”