Red Man Down(78)

‘So I wasn’t monitoring but I was working on the same floor and couldn’t help overhearing. Joey had trouble getting his call through, it sounded like the person he was calling didn’t want to accept charges, and he got enraged. He was screaming into the phone, “You better take my call, bitch!” I was just going to call the floor guard to have him taken back to his cell when it went through.

‘There were a few minutes’ fairly quiet conversation, and then he blew up again, yelling that he wasn’t going to sit in this place – this hellhole, he called it, can you imagine? About Pima County! I was just thinking, wait till you start doing real time in Florence, when he went berserk, screaming that this person better get him out of here, because “I got plenty I can say about you and if I start to talk you’re gonna be in here with me!” Somebody said something back, also loud, and Joey yelled, “Damn right it is, you think you’re the only one knows how to threaten?” And then the guard came and took him away.’ Her nose twitched. ‘Took two guards, actually. He was out of his mind, raving and kicking.’

‘Greta, could you tell if he was talking to a man or a woman?’

‘Well … he called the person on the other end, “Bitch.” Of course, some people say that to men now, but … I didn’t think Joey was gay, did you?’

‘No.’

‘So it was probably a woman.’ She stood up. ‘That’s all I’ve got, and I’d better get back. Hope it helps.’

‘Wait,’ Sarah said. ‘There’s a record kept of the numbers called, isn’t there? Must be.’

‘Yes. And there’s a sign on the phone that warns that numbers are recorded, so … You can get a print-out of the numbers in that time-span, is that what you want?’

‘Sure is. Do I need a subpoena?’

‘No. If the call was privileged, like to a doctor or lawyer, maybe, but this wasn’t that kind of a call.’

‘So … I just call the phone system?’

‘Got your notebook? I’ll give you the number to call.’ She wrote, frowning in concentration, and handed the notebook back.

‘Hey, I owe you one,’ Sarah said. ‘Thanks, Greta.’

‘Glad to help.’ She walked back inside at her street-cop pace, fast but not hurried, the consummate steady hand.

Sarah went back to South Stone, looking forward to telling Delaney what she’d found. He was in his office, on the phone. He was on the phone every time she checked for the next hour, and then jumped into the elevator and disappeared for the rest of the afternoon.

By then she didn’t want to talk to him because she was involved in describing what she needed to a bemused quite new employee of a telephone system she didn’t understand. The girl was polite and wanted to help, but was completely out of her depth; she kept saying, ‘Why don’t I check on that and get back to you?’ Feeling like a not-very-great Wallenda on a slender wire over a canyon, Sarah finally talked the nervous girl in the anonymous distance into passing this call on to her superior. She’d evidently been cautioned in some business school that she should deal with the public as best she could and not be passing rude strangers along to her boss all the time. When Sarah suggested she could put her own chief of police on the line if need be, she decided to opt for the smaller risk.

Once the transfer was complete, though, and Sarah had an experienced, competent woman on the line who understood what was necessary, the whole thing went on greased wheels. When she learned Sarah felt some uncertainty about the date, she said, ‘I can go for a day before and a day after the day you think it was, and it still won’t be a very long list. Collect calls – they’re kind of a pain, you know. They don’t make so many.’

Sarah told her where to send the fax, and she said she’d call when it was on the way.

Ollie had stuck his head in her workstation once in the afternoon. He’d looked pleased with himself and he’d had his mouth open, ready to tell her why, but she’d waved him off. She’d been deep in the conversation that had persuaded the young girl to transfer the call to her superior at the time, and could not risk pausing for even one second.

When she finally had her list of numbers on the way she went by Ollie’s desk to tell him what she’d done. He waved her off then, muttering, ‘Found something hot.’

Nobody else had come back by the time she checked out and went home, rubbing her ear thoughtfully, hoping what she’d done would be enough.

‘You look tired,’ Aggie said, at dinner.