“Sergeant, you know as well as I that semantics is everything in a courtroom. I have every right to push you into not framing your questions in ways that make it sound as though I abetted the delinquency of a group of minors.”
“The Morgensterns said that a Petra Warshawski was with the girls.” Milkova spoke for the first time.
“Again, Officer, your language is misleading.”
“We need to get in touch with her.”
“Not if you’re going to harass her, you ain’t. You heard Vic here, you can’t go around accusing people of stuff with no evidence and no reason. You got a dead body in a cemetery and you want to take the easy way out and pin it on someone, well, you ain’t pinning it on either of my gals. Some man gets stabbed through the chest, you go look for someone who uses knives. You got databases, you got brains, go use them and don’t come harassing—”
“We’re not harassing,” Anstey said, patches of color showing in his cheeks. “But your ‘gal’ here lied to me last night. I have a right to the truth.”
“You do, Sergeant, and I gave it to you. Is there anything else?”
“I have the names of most of the girls who got together ‘to dance under the full moon.’ ” He gave the phrase a sarcastic emphasis.
He flipped open a notebook and read the list of names. He had all the girls, but he didn’t have last names for Tyler, or for the two Polish girls, Kira and Beata.
“And we know Arielle Zitter and Nia Durango were there but made it home somehow on their own. You involved in that?”
“Sergeant, who told Helen Kendrick that Dr. Durango’s daughter was at the murder site last night? I haven’t seen Kendrick’s show myself, but a reporter just called to tell me about it. Her show goes on live at ten a.m. At that time, I didn’t know the names of the kids I found in the cemetery last night. How did Kendrick get them?”
“I don’t know where journalists get their information. I only know that trying to keep an investigation secret is like trying to hide an elephant inside a convertible.”
“She didn’t get Nia Durango’s name from you, did she?”
The red patches reappeared on his face, but he kept his temper in check. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I need you to give me some names, though—surnames for Beata, Kira, and Tyler.”
“If I could help you, I would,” I assured him. “But, as I keep saying, I don’t know these girls.”
Anstey smacked the top of my piano. “Goddamn it, Warshawski, stop lying—”
Mitch got to his feet, growling. I grabbed his collar but couldn’t stop Mr. Contreras, who said, “You got no call to start swearing, young man. You got two ladies in here with you, case you hadn’t noticed, and just because one of them’s a public cop and one’s private, it don’t mean you can’t watch your language.”
Anstey’s expression—compounded fury and astonishment—made me start to laugh. I doubled over in a coughing fit before he could see my face.
Anstey was off balance but he wasn’t stupid. He told me we weren’t finished, that he’d be back after he spoke to Petra, and I’d better not have plans to leave town. He took Milkova and left, with a heavy stomping of shoes on the stairs.
As soon as they were gone, Mr. Contreras started to fret about “what trouble you got Peewee into now.”
I put my arms around him. “Don’t start on me, darlin’, it was a late night with a lot of worry involved. Shoe’s on the other foot, anyway.” I gave him the unedited version of last night’s events.
At the end, although he wouldn’t admit he’d misjudged me, he did say Petra was lucky she had me to turn to in a crisis. And he offered to make me breakfast.
While Mr. Contreras happily puttered around his hot kitchen, frying up French toast, I called Petra to warn her that the police wanted to talk to her.
“Call your boss at Malina today . . . Yes, I know it’s Sunday, but call her as soon as we hang up: the one crime that bosses don’t forgive is being the last to hear bad news from their staff. So far, no one has ID’d the two Malina girls. If anyone asks you, don’t volunteer Beata and Kira’s last names—if their moms have immigration issues, you could get them in hot water. Maybe your boss can get the foundation’s lawyer to help you with your police interview, because you shouldn’t go into it naked.”
“Gosh, Vic, this is really scary.” Petra’s voice was subdued.
“We’ll figure it out together, babe. Do you know if your other kids made it home? I just got up and I’ve had the police here, so I haven’t made any calls.”
Petra had gotten texts from the girls but hadn’t spoken to any of their parents. “See, I only have the girls’ cell phones on my cell. The moms’ numbers are at the office, but maybe I should have my boss call them?”