But none of the press paid any attention to them driving in, or going through the gate, and Eve took that as a good sign. The media was here for something else, but she had no idea what it might be.
They brought Anna inside for booking and she finally spoke again, asking for a public defender. They asked if she’d like them to contact her husband, who was still in Berlin, for her and she was adamant that she didn’t want them meddling in her marriage. Since Eve and Duncan had no reason of their own to talk with him, they abided by her request. So Duncan went off to arrange for Anna’s public defender while Eve finished the processing and put her in a cell to await her transfer to the jail downtown for her arraignment.
When Eve walked into the squad room, she saw Garvey standing at his cubicle, all dressed up in a nice suit, checking himself out in a mirror that Biddle held up in front of him. Duncan was at his desk, watching with amusement as Garvey primped.
“Looks like someone is getting ready for his close-up,” Duncan said.
“Set your DVRs, it doesn’t matter which station, because we’re gonna be on all of them.” Garvey licked his finger and smoothed his eyebrows.
“What happened?” Eve asked.
Biddle said, “We found the Ferrari that hit the surfer on PCH. It belongs to Justin Marriott.”
“Who is that?” Duncan asked.
“You don’t know?” Garvey said. “He’s a singer. The kid made his first $10 million before he was eighteen with a song about jerking off constantly because he can’t screw the girl of his dreams.”
“How did I miss that?” Duncan said. “Sounds like my kind of song.”
“I’d never heard of him, either,” Biddle said. “We arrested him for vehicular manslaughter and felony hit-and-run. Now he’s sitting in a cell, going through extreme Twitter withdrawal. We may have to call paramedics.”
“Every newscast and talk show in America wants this,” Garvey said. “My Twitter is going to explode.”
“You have a Twitter?” Duncan said.
“I also have electricity and running water,” Garvey said. “You really are a dinosaur. If you aren’t on social media, you might as well be dead.”
Captain Shaw opened the squad room door a crack and stuck his head in. “Pavone. Ronin. Can I have a word with you in my office?”
Duncan got up and the two of them stepped out into the hall, where Shaw was waiting. He led them down the hall.
“What Biddle and Garvey did was solid, old-fashioned police work,” Shaw said. “No flash, no high tech, just diligence and shoe leather.”
“A dying art,” Duncan said.
Shaw beckoned them into his office and closed the door behind them. “I wish I could say the same about your investigation of the fetal abduction.”
His comment confused Eve. “The crime is extraordinarily rare and the case wasn’t nearly as straightforward as a hit-and-run.”
The captain walked around his desk and took a seat behind it. “It would have been if you’d thoroughly searched Anna McCaig’s house the first time.”
Duncan stepped up to Shaw’s desk. “I could have searched it a thousand times and wouldn’t have made the deduction that Eve did today.”
“Then perhaps it’s a good thing you’re retiring.”
Eve moved up to Duncan’s side. “That’s a cheap shot.”
“Cheap is not a word that applies to this investigation,” Shaw said. “We kept a man parked outside McCaig’s house for twenty-four hours and executed a totally unnecessary search of another home. That’s a huge amount of wasted man-hours, resources, and money. We do operate on a budget, you know. Next time you do a search, I expect you to be more thorough and detail oriented.”
“That’s a load of horseshit,” Duncan said.
“What did you say?”
“What matters is that we caught the killer and she made a full confession, an outcome that wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Eve seeing things that a veteran homicide detective and an entire crew of forensic investigators with tens of thousands of hours of combined experience completely missed. So how about congratulating her for a job well done instead of bitching that the job wasn’t easy?”
Shaw stood up and glowered at Duncan. “I could suspend you right now for insubordination.”
“I could also walk outside, go to that podium, and tell the press about this nightmare case, how Eve solved it in two days without sleeping, and that your reaction was ‘What took you so fucking long?’ How do you think that’ll play?”
Duncan didn’t wait for Shaw’s answer. Instead, he simply walked out, leaving the door open behind him. Eve looked at the captain, who waved her away, too.
“Get out of here,” he said. “I want your reports on my desk in an hour.”
Eve caught up with Duncan at the door to the squad room.
“I can fight my own battles,” she said. “You didn’t have to say that.”
“You didn’t have to tell him he took a cheap shot, which I deserved, by the way.”
“No, you didn’t. I just got lucky.”
Duncan leaned against the wall and looked at her. “It isn’t luck, Eve. It’s instinct. You’re a natural at this. What you haven’t learned yet is how to do it without making enemies.”