“Ironic,” said Rook. When Nikki gave him a chastening glance, he shrugged. “Come on, you were thinking it.”
Minutes later in the bull pen Nikki split Roach up. With Esteban Padilla also killed by whoever killed Cassidy Towne and Derek Snow, she put Ochoa on the task of checking Padilla’s limo company for a Reed Wakefield passenger manifest on or before the night he died. She assigned Raley to canvass for surveillance tape of Mitchell Perkins’s mugging. Rook ended a phone call and joined them in the middle of the room.
“Just got off with Perkins’s assistant at Epimetheus Books. They made a PDF of her manuscript and they’re going to e-mail it. Should get here before the hard copy arrives, so we can dive right in.”
Nikki’s attention drifted to the murder board and the list of names on it in her neat block printing. “If what Perkins says is true and the last chapter is still out there, that means someone is still going to be looking for it.” And then, turning to them so they could read her apprehension, she added, “And won’t stop at anything to get it.”
“The book guy was lucky. How’s he doing?” asked Raley.
“Hurting, but he’ll make it,” answered Heat. “I think a lot of his pain is realizing he could have avoided all this if he had just shared the manuscript when we asked for it.”
“Just one more irony,” Rook said. “Epimetheus? . . . The Greek god of hindsight.” They all stared at him. “True fact. Alex, I’ll take ‘Moons of Saturn’ for a thousand.”
It was time to get Soleil Gray in a more official setting. But Reed Wakefield’s ex-fiancée responded in kind by showing up in Interrogation 1 with her attorney, one of the most aggressive, successful—and, as a result, expensive—criminal lawyers in the city. Detective Heat knew Helen Miksit from days when she was glad to be in the same room with her. She had been a tough prosecutor who collected guilty verdicts like scalps and made cops want to send flowers. But six years ago, Miksit left the DA’s office and crossed the aisle for profit. Her wardrobe had changed, but her demeanor hadn’t. The Bulldog, as they called her, made her opening move before Heat and Rook even sat down across the table. “This is bullshit, and you know it.”
“Nice to see you again, too, Helen.” Nikki slid into her chair, unfazed.
“We’re past the pleasantries on this one, I’m afraid. My client has filled me in on your serial badgering and I have advised her to say nothing to you.” Beside her, Soleil Gray was occupying herself by nibbling at a loose piece of skin on her knuckle. She took her hand away from her mouth and shook her head slightly to indicate she was on the same page, but what Nikki read from the singer wasn’t a stonewall. She looked vulnerable rather than cocky. That part was left to the lady in the power suit. “To be clear, we are only at this interview because we have to be. Now, you can save us all a lot of trouble by recognizing the futility of this and calling it a day.”
Nikki gave the attorney a smile. “Thank you, Counselor. I have been diligent, I’ll admit. You remember what it’s like out here, don’t you? People get killed, cops gotta ask questions . . . Such a pain.”
“Twice you have gone to her place of employment and disrupted the normal course of her business on a witch hunt. You caused her to miss her performance on a late-night show, and now you’ve got her completely distracted while she’s gearing up to shoot a new music video tomorrow. Is this desperation, or are you performing for your next article?” Miksit side-nodded to Rook.
“Oh,” he said, “don’t worry, there’s no sequel. I’m just along because I love the swell folks you meet in police stations.”
Nikki jumped in before that escalated. “My repeat visit to Soleil was to get a straight answer from her after getting a series of lies from her the first time. Your client is connected to two homicide victims, and—”