‘They could have read the court transcripts,’ Prew said, but not unkindly.
‘There were a few details that the court transcripts didn’t contain,’ Jamie told him. ‘Because Montgomery County PD, for whatever reason, held them back.’
‘Patricia Segal’s body had a key ring embedded in one of her wounds.’ Thorne watched the man’s face for his reaction. ‘It appeared to be made from a medal. A key was still attached to the ring.’
Prew’s brows shot up. ‘We never released that information.’
‘Exactly,’ Thorne said quietly. ‘Yet someone knew. Someone deliberately chose to murder the sister of the young man I’d been accused of killing in a way that was similar to his murder. I want to know how and why. We’re hoping you have some thoughts on it, or at least can help us find a few of the people who were involved in my case back then.’
‘Like?’ Prew asked, again not unkindly.
‘Like the EMTs who took Richard to the hospital,’ Jamie said. ‘The cops first on the scene. The ER doctors who declared him dead. The ME and any morgue personnel who touched his body. Anyone who was involved in the episode that led to Thorne’s expulsion, because they either perjured themselves on the stand or disappeared and refused to testify at all. But before we discuss any of those people, I’d like to know why the police chose to suppress the existence of the key ring.’
Prew scrunched his eyes closed. ‘Starting with the softball questions, are we?’ He sighed. ‘I shouldn’t be talking to you at all.’
‘Then why are you?’ Gwyn asked softly.
Prew met her eyes. ‘Who are you exactly? How do you connect? Phil I know, and Jamie I remember. You’re new.’
‘Well, not so new,’ Gwyn said, flashing the retired detective a sweet smile that made Thorne want to chuckle because it was so utterly bullshit. ‘I work with Thorne. I was his paralegal for several years. Now we partner in our club.’
‘Sheidalin,’ Prew said, surprising both of them.
‘You know it?’ Thorne asked.
‘Took my wife there a few years back. She’d heard about this violinist. One of your other partners, as I recall. We enjoyed the performance. Although it was . . . different.’
‘That was Lucy,’ Gwyn said, and Thorne could tell she knew exactly where the detective was going with this. She was a better bullshitter than Prew was. ‘Who is, as I’m sure you know, an ME and is now married to one of BPD’s finest, JD Fitzpatrick. So do we pass muster, Detective Prew?’
His lips twitched. ‘Yeah. Fitzpatrick is a good cop and I’ve worked with Lucy Trask in the past. My wife went to the club with me on my request. I couldn’t believe the prim-and-proper ME was the performer shown in the paper. But she was.’ He gave Gwyn a shrewd look. ‘You run the place yourselves?’
‘With a few managers, yes. Why?’
‘Because after Phil called me yesterday, I was curious. And a little . . . cautious. So I visited your club again. The mood was decidedly different than it was the first time I went. Much more tense, but not in a good way.’
Thorne stiffened and glanced at Gwyn. He hadn’t even thought about the club last night. She just lifted a brow and turned back to Prew. ‘How so? According to the manager on duty, there were no fights, no disagreements. Everyone liked the band.’
Prew didn’t blink. ‘Well, your manager on duty left a few things out. There was a major disturbance. Your bouncer grabbed two guys by the collar and carried them out like they were puppy dogs. Tossed them out like garbage.’
‘Which,’ Gwyn said amiably, ‘as it turns out, they were.’ She glanced up at Thorne. ‘More assholes trying to deal out of the club.’
Thorne shrugged, some of his stiffness receding. ‘That’s a near-nightly occurrence, Detective. Tell us something we don’t know. Our club is clean and we work hard to keep it that way.’
‘So said your employees. You were definitely the topic of conversation, Mr Thorne. Your employees are loyal. And they didn’t trust me, for sure.’
‘They don’t know you,’ Gwyn said, still amiably. ‘They know us. They know we’re honest and we don’t tolerate anything illegal. They know we pay their salaries and health insurance on time, and that we create a safe space for them to work. We even have a part-time nursery in the back now. Soundproofed, staffed and secure.’
Her tone was mild, but her chin lifted and Thorne caught the pride in her eyes when she looked up at him. ‘Right, Thorne?’
‘Absolutely. It’s not an easy job, but Gwyn runs a tight ship. What does this have to do with the question Jamie asked you?’
‘It doesn’t. I’m answering the question Miss Weaver asked me.’
‘Oh,’ she said with a nod. ‘Which was why you’re talking to us. I still don’t get it. I mean, we could have paid our people to say nice things. We are performers, you know. If they couldn’t play their role, they’re not much good to us on stage. Yes?’
Prew chuckled. ‘Yes.’ Then he sobered. ‘I was more interested in what the people who got kicked out said. I followed them for a block or two. I mean, they were drug dealers and it wasn’t so long ago that I was a cop. They were pretty rattled, actually. They stopped to call their boss, who’d apparently figured that with you out of the way, Mr Thorne, the way would be clear for them to deal from your club. I couldn’t hear what the boss said, but he didn’t seem too happy if their expressions were any indication. They were literally shaking in their shoes.’ He shrugged. ‘I figured that spoke well of you, so I’ll tell you what I can.’
Jamie crossed his arms. ‘Then start by telling me why the police suppressed the key ring Thorne found in Richard’s body.’
Prew looked uncomfortable. ‘My boss decided it should be so. At the time he wanted to hold the existence – and disappearance – of the key ring back in case it was discovered during the course of the investigation. Whoever had it couldn’t claim they were a copycat because, theoretically, only the killer would have known about it. I didn’t get it, but I was pretty new to homicide then. I didn’t know him that well, so I pushed back. I wanted it in the record because at the very beginning I wasn’t sure if you’d killed Richard or not, Mr Thorne. My boss told me to back off. That I had no idea what I was stirring up. I didn’t realize he was so susceptible to community pressure.’
‘I assume you mean from Richard’s father,’ Thorne said. ‘But why? That doesn’t make any sense.’
‘I don’t know,’ Prew admitted. ‘I heard later that Mrs Linden had a nervous breakdown, and the “violation” of her stepson’s body was what pushed her over the edge.’
‘Stepson?’ Gwyn asked.
Prew nodded. ‘Richard’s mother was the first Mrs Linden. She didn’t have a nervous breakdown. I was surprised that the second Mrs Linden would. She seemed too controlled to lose her cool – or to have admitted it, anyway. It also bothered me that the medal had shoved her off the edge. I mean, Richard was gutted like a deer. That someone had shoved something inside his body didn’t seem all that much worse. At any rate, I think it makes more sense that it was pressure from Linden rather than any desire to preserve the investigation that kept the key ring out of the records. The existence of a key ring made from a sports medal would have been a major clue, especially since your medal had also gone missing, Mr Thorne.’
‘Which was why we didn’t push it back then,’ Thorne said. ‘But I’m pushing it now, because that damn key ring, or at least a replica, has turned up again.’
‘I wish I’d pushed harder to have it included in the trial now,’ Prew said, his regret evident.
Jamie sighed. ‘So do I. Okay, we know now that this key ring is of vital importance. Back to the people who might have come into contact with it.’ He handed Prew the list of first responders and morgue personnel who’d handled Richard’s body. ‘Know any of these?’