Codella waved to the desk sergeant, took the stairs two at a time, and walked straight to Dennis McGowan’s office. “You read the paper this morning, Lieutenant?”
He looked up from his cell phone. “What is this? A quiz?”
“Did you happen to read about Lucy Merchant?”
He gave her a blank look.
“Wife of Thomas Merchant. Bank of New Amsterdam?”
“I know who he is. What about him?”
“His wife was Lucy Martinelli Merchant. A five-time Tony Award winner.” She waited for a sign of interest that did not come. When was the last time he had even seen a Broadway show, she wondered. “They dimmed the lights for her last night.”
“So? Get to the point, Codella.”
“She died yesterday at Park Manor, that exclusive Upper East Side senior home.”
“Okay, and why should I give a shit about that?”
“Because her daughter came to see me yesterday.”
“Thomas Merchant’s daughter was here?”
“And told me she thought her mother had been murdered.”
McGowan was suddenly alert. “And you didn’t bring it to my attention?”
“There was really nothing to bring you, except her unsubstantiated theories. But I did a little checking, and there may be something there. Maybe not.” She told him about the carpet fibers and Muñoz’s unofficial field test results.
“Jesus, Codella.” McGowan leaned back, crossed his thick arms, and squinted at her. “We send things to the lab. We don’t go running color tests.”
“If I waited for lab analysis, I’d be waiting weeks and her ashes would be in an urn,” she told him. “This is a Broadway legend. If something happened to her and we didn’t take action, imagine what the press would say.”
“And imagine what they’d say if one of my detectives launched an investigation based on a field test kit.”
“We make narcotics arrests that way all the time.”
He rolled his eyes. “As I’ve said before, you just don’t like to play by the rules.”
“And as I’ve said before, I consider the rules to be very important, sir.” She kept her voice even, remembering Haggerty’s advice. “In this case, I figured it was my job to screen things before I raised an alarm.”
“Oh, you did, huh?”
She observed his show of sarcasm as if she were a spectator at a sporting event. His intense dislike of her, she reminded herself, could not be explained by anything she had ever done to him. Reilly, her former captain at the 171st, would not have criticized her for showing initiative, and she wished she could be talking to him right now. Maybe McGowan just felt threatened by competent women reporting to him. Maybe he grew up with a sister who had always upstaged him. Whatever the explanation, she told herself for the hundredth time, it was his problem and it blinded him to the importance of the situation. “I’d like to open a case,” she stated firmly. “I want to go to Park Manor and have a look around.”
“No.”
“No? Just like that?”
“It’s above your pay grade, Codella.”
“Above my pay grade?”
“You heard me.” His arms were crossed over his worn blue suit jacket.
You’re the one above your pay grade, she wanted to say. She took a deep breath and held it in for a moment while she dialed down her emotions. If she let her frustration show, he would seize on that. “I don’t understand.” She worked hard to sound innocent. “How exactly is it above my pay grade?”
“He’s Mr. Page Six,” McGowan said. “The guy’s worth millions.”
“Billions, actually, but so what? If something happened to his wife, don’t you think he’d want to know? Don’t you think he’d be pissed if we didn’t look into it?” According to Julia Merchant, he’d be more upset if they did look into it, but she wasn’t going to tell McGowan that. “The daughter came to see me. She brought a suspicious substance. Considering the field test results, I think we’d be remiss if we didn’t take a closer look. I’ve sent the fibers to the crime lab, and I want to pay a visit to Park Manor. Do I have your permission?”
Then she held his eyes and waited. The silence stretched on. He would be considering a multitude of reasons—excuses—for denying her request. She waited as impassively as she could. Any outward sign of desire, she sensed, would only fuel his denials. Finally he spoke. “One visit. If there’s nothing there, you drop it. Understood?”