CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SECRET MESSAGES

JULY 9, 1977

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

As Delgado watched Diane through the two-way mirror, she ran the various options available to her through her mind. In the other room, Diane sat at the interview table with her arms folded and a firm expression on her face as she looked straight ahead at the mirror. Delgado knew she couldn’t be seen, but that didn’t make her feel any more comfortable.

Bringing Diane in for questioning about her husband’s absence—Delgado refused to think of it as a “disappearance,” given what she knew—was standard procedure.

Holding her in the interview room, however, was not.

Because Diane wasn’t a suspect, or even a witness. A car had been sent to collect her from home, and after arranging to leave Sara with the Van Sabbens upstairs, Diane had been whisked to the 65th Precinct and taken straight to LaVorgna’s office, where the captain had informed her of the situation regarding her husband.

Delgado had watched from out in the bull pen—at least until the captain had turned the blinds on his office windows again. While that particular conversation played out in private, Delgado had gone over to Sergeant McGuigan and asked to handle taking Diane’s statement. McGuigan had agreed readily—no sooner had the emergency briefing ended than Delgado found herself at the center of a whirlpool of attention, most of her shift and most of the night shift offering their condolences, like they’d just been told Delgado’s parents had died. Delgado took them as they came, aware that the only one paying close attention to her reactions was herself. As far as the others were concerned, Hopper was now a bent cop, getting involved in something way beyond what the farm boy from Indiana could handle, with violent results.

Delgado wasn’t sure if she was surprised at the speed at which the precinct had turned against Hopper. It seemed that he’d been telling the truth, that he really still was seen as an outsider by many veterans in the department.

Delgado tried not to dwell on how they would have reacted if it had been her that Special Agent Gallup had sent into deep cover.

As soon as Diane had emerged from the captain’s office, Delgado spirited her away. Diane was clearly pleased to see her, and, while obviously upset, seemed to be taking the captain’s news with some resilience.

Now, as she sat in the interview room, Diane looked more annoyed than anything else.

Good on her, thought Delgado. Of course she didn’t believe her husband had gotten caught up in a double homicide, let alone been the one to pull the trigger. Delgado wasn’t sure how deep the cover went—like, really, were there two bodies cooling in a morgue? Would Gallup have gone that far? Or was it all just an elaborate hoax, one designed to hold together just long enough for Hopper to get into the Vipers and out again?

Delgado didn’t have those answers. What she did have was Hopper’s wife, secreted away in the interview room. Normally, her interview would have taken place in a meeting room, if not at Delgado’s desk. The interview room here was dark and smelly, the ceiling tiles slumping in one corner as damp got to work on the fabric of the building.

The perfect place to scare a suspect.

The perfect place to have a private conversation.

Delgado took a breath and left the observation room. When she entered the interview room, Diane looked up and just shook her head.

“Rosario, just what the hell is going on? I’m really hoping you can give me an explanation here.”

Delgado sat opposite. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Although there was no particular reason not to be using the interview room to take Diane’s statement, Delgado knew that, sooner or later, someone would come looking for the pair of them. Maybe she was being overcautious, but better that than the opposite.

“We don’t really have much time—” Delgado began, before Diane shook her head and lifted her hands from her lap to the table.

“What do you mean?” Diane cocked her head. “Listen, Rosario, there’s no way Jim’s gotten involved in…in whatever the hell this is. Nothing the captain said made any sense.”

Diane’s face had grown red. She sat back in the chair and rubbed her forehead. Delgado noticed that, despite her bravado, her hand was shaking.

“Listen, Diane, I need to tell you something very important. I want you to listen very carefully, okay? I shouldn’t be doing this, but I made a promise to Hopper—”

Diane leaned in. “A promise? Have you spoken to him?”

That was when Delgado heard it—a sound, very faint, from somewhere behind her. She didn’t turn around, but she held Diane’s gaze and gave a very small shake of the head. Diane’s forehead creased in confusion, but at least Delgado knew she had gotten the message.

Someone was in the observation room. Delgado recognized the sound of the door being closed. It was nothing a suspect would ever notice, and it wouldn’t matter if they did, anyway. But one thing was for sure.

Their conversation was no longer private.

Delgado ground her teeth, then reached into her jacket and took out one of her cards and a pen. She quickly flipped the card over, jotted down an address, then slid the card over to Diane, hiding it as best she could under her wrist. Diane, to her credit, followed along, covering the card with her hand and disappearing it under the table.

Just in time.

The interview room door opened, and Captain LaVorgna stepped in.

“Detective Delgado, can I see you in my office please.”

Delgado turned in her chair. “Yes, sir, I was just taking Diane’s statement—”

Now, if you please, Detective.”

With that, the captain stood with one hand on the door handle, the other gesturing for Delgado to leave the room.

Delgado caught Diane’s eye, then stood and left the room. Behind her, she heard the captain speaking.

“I’m sorry about this, Mrs. Hopper. I’ll have a car take you back home. Thank you for your patience.”


Delgado stood with her hands on her hips in front of Captain LaVorgna’s desk. The pose was a habit she’d picked up, and most of the time she didn’t even know she was doing it.

She did now, though.

The door was closed, as were the blinds. The captain adjusted a few items on his desk, before looking up at his subordinate.

“You can relax, Detective.”

“I’m fine how I am, sir. Can you tell me what you wanted to see me about? I’ve got rather a lot to do now.”

The captain nodded. “I can understand your desire to help.”

Delgado frowned. “Desire to help? Sir, I’m just doing my job. We’ve got every detective on this case now, and I would like to go back out there and do my part.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Sir, I’m not sure I—”

“A detective partnership is a very special relationship, Delgado. It’s a close one, too. There is a lot riding on it, both personally and professionally.”

“You don’t need to tell me that, sir.”

“Actually, Detective, maybe I do, because I’m not sure you’re following me.” LaVorgna sat back in his chair and tossed a pen onto his desk. “You are too close to this investigation. Not only that, you’re still a junior detective, and this is a lot to take in.”

Delgado narrowed her eyes, but the captain just sighed.

“Go home, Detective. Take a week’s administrative leave, full pay. I won’t even record it in the books.”

Delgado shook her head. “I really think I can help here, sir.”

“And I really think you can’t, Detective. I want to know that my detectives can work on this case without distraction and without any challenges from others who might think your involvement is inappropriate.”

Challenges? Sir, I—”

“Go. Home. That is an order. I’ll see you in seven days, and maybe we’ll have worked this out by then. I will, of course, call you if anything comes up. Okay?”

Delgado took a deep breath, then nodded.

“Sir.”

The captain looked at Delgado, who didn’t move.

“You can close the door on your way out, Detective.”

Delgado pursed her lips, and left without a word. As she closed the door behind her, she looked over at the clock on the opposite wall of the bull pen.

Then she grabbed her bag from her desk and left the precinct, ignoring the puzzled expressions of the other detectives.

Her destination: Tom’s Diner, where she would sit and wait all day if she had to.

She only hoped Diane had understood the message.