Chapter 19

She was adamant about keeping her appointment with Claire. He was glad she was going, because he had to go to work. He hoped Claire would talk some sense into her, and he made her promise not to do anything until she'd talked it over with him, no matter what she decided to do.

She was waiting for him when he got home from his shift. She was calm, but looked drained.

"I have to make this right," she said.

"If you're sure about this, then it needs to be done right," he said heavily.

"I feel like I'm hurting you," she moaned.

"I'm more worried about you than me," he said. "If you're going to do this, I'd like you to do it my way."

"All right," she said.

It didn't take long to figure out what they were going to do. When all was decided, he kissed her. Though neither of them knew it at that moment, it was to be the last time he'd do so for a very long time.

Patrol Captain Quincy and Detective Captain Dillworth stood on either side of Lieutenant Sandra Hopkins, of Internal Affairs.

"Let me get this straight," said Sandra, staring at Bob, who was standing at a position of semi-attention. "You were playing racquetball with this woman ... the victim of a crime you'd investigated when you were assigned to the detective division."

"Yes, ma'am," said Bob.

"And you've played racquetball with her ever since you were reassigned to traffic for sexually harassing her during the investigation."

"No, ma'am," said Bob.

"So you haven't played racquetball with her."

"No, I didn't sexually harass her. She's my regular racquetball partner."

"Don't fuck with me, Duncan," said Hopkins. "You're in a world of shit here."

"I admit that I used unauthorized techniques and procedures to follow a hunch," said Bob calmly. "But it paid off. She trusted me enough to confess."

"And that's the other thing," said Sandra. "You were just banging the ball around and she blurted out that she'd killed her rapist?"

"That's pretty much it," said Bob. "She said she was seeing a shrink and that during hypnosis, she remembered it. Said she couldn't live with herself and said she wanted to turn herself in."

"And you suspected her from the beginning, but didn't think it was worth mentioning," said Hopkins sarcastically.

"I found her lighter at the scene," said Bob, shrugging his shoulders. "It's not illegal to have a lighter. None of the witnesses said she lit the car on fire. Cars catch on fire all the time in situations like that. What probable cause, exactly, do you think I had?"

"You had your gut instinct, detective!"

"He's not a detective anymore," Dillworth said hastily. "You can see why."

The lieutenant's teeth ground together, but she didn't address Dillworth.

"You had your gut instinct, didn't you, Officer Duncan?"

"When I WAS a detective," Bob said, staring right into her eyes, "Captain Dillworth taught me that gut instinct isn't worth a damn." He went on with a straight face. "He taught me that facts are what's important. I didn't have any facts, but I thought if I hung around her a little and ... um ... banged the ball around with her, I think you called it ... I might get some facts."

"Is that all you banged?" Hopkins sounded quite serious, and glared at the two captains when they both snickered.

"I kept things casual," said Bob. "She'd just been raped. I try not to hit on women who've just been raped, regardless of what you may have heard."

"Don't get snippy with me!" snarled Hopkins, who'd so far gotten nothing that would stick very well. The motherfucker HAD solved a murder, after all, even if nobody had known it WAS a murder up until then. And THIS piece of work was the cop who brought her in, wearing sweats and a headband. The motherfucker didn't even have his badge on him when he made the collar.

Based on the file Dillworth had given her, the arraignment must have been a circus. The woman confessed to the judge, who told her to shut up. When he said there was no evidence, she insisted she'd burned the man to death because he'd raped her. She'd been assigned a public defender, even though her financial status would normally have required she hire her own lawyer. That was because she'd said she didn't want an attorney at all and wouldn't hire one!

Then, the next day, in interrogation ... with her fucking lawyer present ... she'd waived her rights and confessed all over again, ignoring the lawyer who, according to Detective Zwinkowski, had been almost on the verge of tears trying to get her to shut up.

"And this lighter you found. You didn't turn it in to the evidence locker." It wasn't a question, and there was danger in her voice.

"I knew it was hers," Bob said. "I saw it when I searched her apartment during the rape investigation. That clued me in that she was involved in the accident somehow, but I didn't see it as evidence. Not then."

"So you just gave it back to her?"

"No."

"You want to explain that?"

"She was a secret smoker," said Bob. "The lighter was hidden in a jewelry case when I first saw it, along with a pack of cigarettes. When I visited her in the hospital after the accident, I was going to give it back to her, but she had amnesia. I guess I got distracted and forgot about it. Then, when I got home, I found it in my pants and put it on my dresser. I didn't want to turn around and go back to the hospital just for that. I figured I'd go see her again sometime, to see if her memory had returned. I guess I forgot all about it until she remembered using it to torch the car."

"But you played racquetball with her after that," Hopkins prompted.

"She forgot she was a secret smoker," said Bob, shrugging his shoulders. "Why would I remind her of that? Smoking's not good for you, you know."

"But you were still suspicious of her?" Hopkins' voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"The lighter was on the floor in the shop she was blown into during the explosion. I thought that was odd. Why wasn't it in her purse or her car or whatever? It just seemed odd. And maybe her amnesia was fake. It just made me uncomfortable, so I decided to keep an eye on her. When she confessed to me, I took her down to the station. Then I went and got the lighter and turned it in to the evidence locker. The chain of custody is unbroken. I've had control of it ever since I picked it up at the scene. It just got turned in late, after I knew it really WAS evidence."

Lieutenant Hopkins sighed. She wondered why she always seemed to get assigned to the really fucked up cases.

"This isn't over yet," she said. "You're suspended with pay until we get this figured out."

"OK," said Bob. "I could use the break."

What was the hardest for both of them was that they couldn't see each other anymore. The judge had turned her loose on her own recognizance, so she could still go to work. Bob knew it would have been incredibly stupid for them to be seen together again.

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