At this hour on a Monday morning, Middle Street was crowded with worker bees on the way to their various hives. McCabe angled past a trio of pin-striped attorneys spread three abreast across the sidewalk. Lawyers and stockbrokers. About the only people left in Maine still wearing suits to the office. A pretty blond in tight jeans, carrying a briefcase, smiled at him. A fat brown Labrador retriever waddled by her side, apparently on his way to the office, too.
McCabe entered 109 and took the stairs two at a time. The place was already buzzing. Tom Tasco flashed him a greeting. McCabe stopped. ‘How are you guys doing with the doctors?’ he asked.
‘Three teams working full-time. We’ve talked to sixty-two surgeons in the last twenty-four hours. More on tap for today.’
‘Anything interesting?’
‘No suspects yet, but if you ever need a quadruple bypass, let me know. I’ve got a lot of connections.’
Maggie was on the phone, feet, as usual, propped on her desk. An oversized note from Shockley’s admin greeted McCabe at his own desk. The Chief wants to see you. ASAP!!! Deirdre. That’s all he needed now, more crap from the GO. He held the note in front of Maggie, who was still on the phone, with a ‘Do you know what this is about?’ gesture. She shrugged and shook her head no.
He headed for Shockley’s corner office. Might as well get whatever it was out of the way. The door was open. Deirdre told him to go on in. He found Shockley deep in bullshit mode, collar undone, tie pulled down. He was playing to an appreciative audience. Portland mayor Gary Short, who stood nearly six foot five, and Will Hayley, a longtime fixture on the city council, were both seated on his large leather couch. In a city where mayors are selected from the council on an annual basis, Short had no more clout than Hayley, and on issues of public safety Shockley was more powerful than either.
‘Sit down, Mike.’ Shockley signaled to the chair in front of his desk. ‘You know Gary and Will?’
McCabe continued standing and nodded at the two men. ‘We’ve met. What’s on your mind, Chief? I’ve got a busy morning.’ Short and Hayley exchanged glances and decided they’d rather not be present for what McCabe supposed was intended as a dressing-down. They gathered their things.
‘You guys have a lot to talk about,’ said Hayley. ‘We’ll leave you to it.’ Mayor Short closed the door as the two men left.
‘I got an unwelcome call this morning,’ said Shockley, ‘from Dr. Phil Spencer. He’s not happy. Apparently his wife discovered you snooping around their property yesterday. Then you questioned her, according to Spencer, like a common criminal, quote unquote.’
‘I’m not sure “like a common criminal” applies, but yes, I was there, and yes, I did talk to her. I also talked to Spencer the day before, at the hospital. What of it?’
‘McCabe, Phil Spencer is one of the most prominent men in this community, not to mention one of the top transplant surgeons in New England. He knows a lot of people, and he’s got a lot of clout that can impact this department. I would appreciate it if you didn’t go crashing around in his affairs. I’d have thought you had more sense than that.’
McCabe stood silently for a minute, weighing his response. ‘Am I or am I not the lead on this case?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Am I or am I not the lead on this case? If I am the lead, there are a couple of things we’d better get straight before the investigation goes any further.’
Shockley eyed McCabe cautiously, a cobra eyeing a mongoose. Nobody talked to him this way. ‘Really? And what might those “couple of things” be?’
‘For one, as long as I’m in charge of this investigation, I’ll go wherever the facts – and my instincts – lead. If they happen to lead to, quote, one of the most prominent men in this community, unquote, so be it. For another, it seems you had an earlier conversation with Dr. Spencer at the Pemaquid Club Friday night. You talked about my private life and revealed confidential information about the investigation, to a man who, by the nature of what he does for a living, might become a suspect. Then, to top it off, you shoot your mouth off to the press about the removal of Katie’s heart. We agreed we’d keep that quiet. It’s a detail your adoring public didn’t need to know.’