Chapter 32

 

Stories were already circulating about Harry. The circumstances of his death lent credence to existing rumours of corruption, and cops were the biggest bunch of gossips you could find. Which made sense, since their job was to be nosey.

Cassie got a few looks in the station, an even split between sympathy, awkwardness, and wondering whether the stink would rub off on her. Either way, she’d get some space for a while.

If not from internal affairs. They wanted to speak to her as soon as she got in, waiting only for the union rep the Lieutenant insisted be present.

‘What was Harry doing?’ asked Hobson, the IA guy who would apparently be doing the talking.

‘He was supposed to be meeting a CI,’ said Cassie. ‘The guy hadn’t called by the end of shift, but that’s the only thing I can think of.’

Hobson’s expression betrayed nothing. His ensemble was smart, but worn - much like his face. ‘You think a street boss like Lagrange was his CI?’

‘I’m assuming you don’t.’ She shouldn’t take such a confrontational stance, but he irritated her.

‘My opinion doesn’t matter,’ said Hobson, voice calm. ‘Though confidential informants don’t generally bring a bodyguard along when meeting with cops.’

Cassie said nothing.

‘You have no opinion on that?’ asked Hobson.

‘I didn’t hear a question.’

He regarded her a moment. ‘Did you know your partner was crooked?’

Cassie was surprised at the surge of anger she felt at the accusation, even though it was probably true. She kept her tone even as she replied, ‘No.’

‘Are you surprised?’

She hesitated, probably long enough to discredit any denial she offered. ‘No. I guess not.’

Hobson regarded her some more. ‘Where were you at half eight this morning?’

And there they were. The standard questions they had to ask, to see what reaction they got, and to establish alibis for those closest to the deceased.

‘Still trying to get some sleep. Our shift ended late and it’s been a busy few days. No, I don’t have anyone to corroborate my whereabouts since I finished my last shift.’

Hobson nodded, the answer as expected. That didn’t mean he necessarily believed it. ‘What time did you leave home this morning?’

‘Sometime between half nine and ten.’ This was going in an awkward direction.

‘And then?’

‘I was looking for a potential source, for some follow up questions. She wasn’t home.’ And Cassie hoped they wouldn’t look at her too closely.

‘While off duty?’

‘I couldn’t sleep. Thought she might be more forthcoming with a morning visit.’

‘While off duty. And you have no one to corroborate the story?’

Cassie shrugged. ‘I might have been caught on some traffic cameras, if it’s important.’

‘We’ll need the address.’ Hobson glanced through his notes.

He moved on to questions about the case, and she edited her responses. All the while niggles grew in the back of her mind over the direction of the interview, as she reasoned things through.

After a couple of minutes, she went silent. It was another minute before Hobson pushed her. ‘Detective Kinsala, are you going to answer the question?’

She continued staring at him as pieces fell into place. Though she wasn’t certain. Perhaps it was wishful thinking. ‘How long had Harry been in IA’s pocket?’

Hobson gave her a puzzled look, but wasn’t quick enough to suppress the flash of something in his eyes. ‘I’m not sure I take your meaning.’

‘Yes, you do. This questioning has been bugging me since we began. Where was I? What have we been doing the past couple of days? A detective’s found dead in a situation that suggests he might be crooked. Do you ask me anything about his activities in general, whether I’ve seen him do anything that might confirm the suspicion? No. As though you already know he’s crooked. So maybe you have proof on him already.

‘But if he’s crooked, you have to wonder about me, right? Now I know you’ve nothing on me, because there’s nothing there. But you have to think there might be. So why don’t you come at me? Give me the chance to offer something on Harry, who’s hardly in a position to be harmed by it. No, you’re not pushing me at all. Why? Because you already know the answers. Because Harry had already told IA everything.’

They stared at each other, then Hobson laid his pen down and sat back. ‘Detective Kinsala, don’t think for a moment you’re not a suspect-’

‘Give it up,’ she said. ‘Or state now, for the record, that Harry wasn’t working for IA.’

He frowned, composing his response. He took too long.

The door opened, and Lieutenant Cornell stood there glaring. ‘This is over.’

‘Lieutenant,’ Hobson began to argue the point.

‘Out,’ she said, stepping inside and pointing the way. ‘Have your boss call me and explain exactly what he’s been doing in my squad.’

Seeing this going above his head, Hobson ended the interview, gathered his things, and headed out. He hesitated at the door and turned back to Cassie. ‘Detective Jansen reached out to us when they first approached him. He’d done some petty stuff, but nothing we couldn’t overlook. Yesterday they ordered him to kill you. You were becoming a nuisance. He was supposed to play it out a bit longer, till we had a plan. It looks like he had other ideas.’

He turned and left, leaving Cassie feeling cold at the thought that they wanted her dead. It must be because of what she’d given financial crimes. She couldn’t see how they’d know, as she doubted Harry had told them, but it was the only reason she could think of.

Cornell waved the union rep out too, and shut the door. ‘You’re on desk duty, until we work this out.’ That probably also meant protective custody while she was under threat.

It was an odd feeling, to know someone wanted her dead. As though sleep hadn’t been hard enough to find.

‘You okay to be here today?’ asked Cornell.

The question dragged Cassie’s attention back to the present. ‘Yes.’ Since some protection would probably be insisted on, the station would be better than the alternatives.

‘IA will probably insist on enough paperwork to keep you busy for a while,’ said Cornell. ‘Didn’t look like they’re planning to stick anything on you, so give them what they want and keep your head down. I’ll reach out to Organised Crime, see if they can learn anything about the organisation wanting you dead.’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant,’ said Cassie.

Cassie was in no hurry to return to her desk. The reality of Harry’s death hadn’t yet sunk in, and the thought of sitting across from his desk might be too much.

It had to be faced though. She just had to hope it didn’t make her break down in front of the squad. That was the last thing she needed.

Still, she couldn’t stay in the interview room all day. Rising, she made her way out to find something to occupy her time.