Cal hopped into Molly and drove around the hospital’s several parking lots, circumnavigating the complex slowly enough that when she’d made one full circuit, the detectives’ unmarked unit was gone.
Warily, Cal parked around the corner and walked back to the ER. At the receptionist again, she asked to see Doctor Ortiz, who’d bandaged Randy. He waved Cal through the doors to find the doctor on her own.
It struck Cal again how young Ortiz was. Like most ER doctors, she was no doubt paying her post-graduation medical dues as an intern and getting a bloody hands-on education in the ugliness of humanity.
“What do you want?” Ortiz said without preamble. “I was just about to grab a nap.”
“I’ll be quick. I’m investigating the incident Mr. Roubicek was involved in. I wanted to know about his wounds.”
“Stabs and slashes,” Ortiz said with a shrug.
“Serious?”
“Only if left untreated. Thirty-two stitches among five distinct wounds. Two stabs, one each arm, approximately two centimeters deep. Three shallow slashes, all on the left arm, five to ten centimeters long each.”
“Nothing on the hands?”
“No.”
“The blade?”
“Sharp, straight. Not serrated. A boning knife, maybe, or a chef.”
“What about the angles on the stabs?”
“Straight in, both of them. Center of the meaty part of the forearms.”
Cal shrugged her blazer off and rolled up the sleeves on her blouse. She held her hands up, palms out and eye level, as if fending someone off. “Like this?”
“Yes.”
“And the slashes?”
Ortiz’s brow furrowed as she looked at Cal’s forearms. “Put them down, palms up. The way I treated them.”
Cal complied, holding out her hands as if to receive a low ten from a teammate. Ortiz snatched a marker from off the nearby nurses’ station desk and drew lines on Cal’s skin. “There. And the stabs too.”
Cal lifted her arms, turning them this way and that to get a sense of the incoming blade’s trajectory. “Thank you, Doctor. That’s very helpful.”
“You’re welcome.” Ortiz cocked her head. “What did you say your name was, detective?”
Cal smiled, for something made her feel sympathetic to this overworked healer. “I didn’t.” Fishing out a business card, she handed it to Ortiz. “Cal Corwin Investigations.”
The doctor scowled. “Private investigator. I assumed you were a cop.”
Cal shrugged. “I was hired to find out more about a death…and a killer.”
“Who was killed?”
Cal wanted to stay in Ortiz’s good graces, in case she needed to ask more questions in the future. “Your patient’s girlfriend was killed. More, I’m not at liberty to say.”
Ortiz flipped the card with her fingers. “I’ll keep this.” She raised an eyebrow.
“Of course. Call me if you think of anything else.”
“Count on it.”
Back in Molly’s driver’s seat, Cal pulled back her sleeves and stared at the wound patterns Ortiz had drawn. They seemed very neat and superficial, not what would be inflicted by a healthy, fit person, stabbing in desperate fear of her life.
What, then? An undefined possibility hovered just out of Cal’s mental vision, a hole formed out of cop sense and intuition.
Cal pulled out her phone and gazed at it a moment. She wanted to call Lieutenant Jay Allsop, her old partner at Homicide, but she didn’t know whether he was on shift. If he wasn’t, waking him at what was still the middle of the night wasn’t the best prelude to asking if he could get her back into Jenna’s and Randy’s apartment.
Instead of calling Allsop, she texted Tanner Brody, Allsop’s partner, laboriously keying in the letters on the standard number pad. She probably should get one of the new phones with a tiny keyboard on it. Texting was becoming all the rage. Pretty soon people wouldn’t be talking to each other at all.
Cal here. U up?
Yes.
Cal speed-dialed him.
“Yo.”
“Hey Tanner, it’s Cal.”
“Duh.”
“Right, I said that. So, you and Jay on shift?”
“Yep.”
“Is he in a good mood?”
“Is he ever?”
Cal gave an irritated growl. “For him, I mean. I need to ask a favor.”
“I wouldn’t advise it. But we’re just wrapping up and we’ll be hitting Orphan Andy’s. You know Jay. Give him food, he’s almost human.”
“Great. I’ll meet you there.”
A short drive took Cal to Andy’s near Market and Castro, a classic diner that had been around since the seventies. She found a parking space nearby and quickly made her way in out of the chill.
Like many restaurants in San Francisco, Orphan Andy’s was unique. Red vinyl, wood and retro chrome blended with iconic framed posters—photos of local landmarks, vintage ads, original comic panels—while Tiffany-style lampshades hovered like flying saucers amid hanging beads. Above it all, a selection of colorful suspended butterflies and dragon kites completed the picture.
Jay Allsop and Tanner Brody already occupied a booth, facing each other. She slid in next to Tanner, smiling. “You guys already order?”
“Yep,” said Allsop. “We’re off duty and we’re eating, so make it fast.”
“Why Jay! I’d have thought you’d be more polite to the woman buying you a meal.”
He raised his eyebrows. “In that case…” He waved a hand and called to the cook, “Johnny, gimme an add-on. Slap the biggest steak you got on the grill. Rare. Box it up to go for me.”
Classy move, and all Jay. Aloud, Cal said, “Hey, no problem.”
“What’s this about?” Tanner asked, giving her his trademark grin. Under the table, he brushed a warm hand against her thigh, a question and a promise. Cal’s skin goose-bumped, and she strove to hide her reaction from Allsop. She didn’t shake the hand off.
“Homicide,” she reported. “Young female. Macey and Raymer caught it. The shooter turned himself in claiming self-defense. But…”
“Who you asking for?” said Allsop.
Cal didn’t see the harm in telling. “The victim’s boss.”
“Was he banging her?”
Sergei and Jenna? “No, don’t think so.”
“Then why’s he paying your rates?”
“Because he wants to know who really did it. Your people are taking the easy road.” Cal held up a forestalling hand. “Which I totally get. The guy confessed. But no CSU means a catch-22. No suspicion, no need to look for evidence. No evidence, no need to be suspicious.”
“Whattaya want from me, Cal? I’m not going to interfere in another case.”
Cal interlaced her fingers. “There’s no case if they close it. I want another look at the scene; with you two present, of course. If we find something, you can decide what to do with it. If not, then I’ll at least have done my best for my client.”
The food arrived. Tanner removed his hand from Cal’s leg to eat. Cal waited for Allsop to get something in his stomach before proceeding. A boost in his blood sugar would mellow him out. “So…what do you think, Jay?”
Allsop belched, stretched, and looked at his watch. “It’s too late in my shift now. I should already be in bed. How about we meet for lunch at noon, then go to the scene?”
“Lunch where?” Cal said suspiciously. “You already have a steak.”
“That can be breakfast. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Hog Island.”
Cal gritted her teeth and forced a smile. Hog Island Oyster Bar at the Embarcadero was a pricey little place, and Jay could eat three or four dozen at a sitting. “Fine. See you there at noon.” She slapped the table and stood. “Nice to see you again, Tanner.”
“You too, Cal.” He gave her a wink.
Cal paid the bill on her way out, from Sergei’s cash, and kept the receipt.
Molly was still warm when Cal got back in. She drove the short way home and parked behind her office. The air hung damp and chilly as she walked the block home in the fog.
“It’s me, Mom,” Cal called as she opened the door with her key. That notification was another new thing. If she didn’t call out, Starlight was likely to come out of her bedroom with a tennis racquet in hand. As if some assailant was going to be deterred by ten ounces of aluminum. Even so, Cal wasn’t begging for a black eye.
Back in her bedroom, Cal closed her window tight, but left the curtains open. She curled up with a purring Snowflake and didn’t bother to set her alarm. The light would wake her gently. Or more likely, the cat would.