Monday 17th November
Major Case Squad Room
Goren and Eames had just returned from some interviews in connection with another case, when Helen Baxter asked for a word with them. They had put her onto tracking down some of the contacts from the model building websites Julius Mainwairing had records of in his computer. When they turned up no obvious business motive or gossip among his buddies to kill him.
Unless you counted the fact Julius was due to be one of the judges for the competition, which was running alongside the public display and small trade fair. In that case, your money would be on what Eames described as "a geek's geek". A bespectacled, minor IRS official in his forties, who still lived with the Mom who knitted his sweater. On which his second prize rosette, was pinned. A rosette he asserted he would not have got had the late Colonel been judging. On account he was "prejudiced" against tableau that showed anything British in a bad light.
They severely doubted that would be motive enough for murder, though you might think so as he emoted over his coffee table sized "Saratoga". In their job, you met people who killed other people for the strangest of reasons. But to get rid of a judge to increase your prospects in a model competition, would have to be the most bizarre.
"I ran a check on the old discussions the victim took part in on this site" said Baxter switching the view on her screen and then pointing.
Goren leaned over and read a couple of messages aloud from a forum.
"Great" muttered Eames. "No wonder parents worry about what their kids say on line. I'm starting to worry about my Dad now"
"You would still need to know who 'ColonelThistle' was though Alex. To be able to make use of the fact he says here he orders in Italian most Wednesday nights"
"You would Helen" said Goren quietly. "But our impression from various people yesterday and his assistant at the shop, was Julius was like a lot of seniors. Would talk with an innocent enthusiasm about his interests and hobbies or his military career at places like the shop. Not consider some one who called in a stranger and possibly reveal that sort of information"
Eames looked up at him with a resigned expression and he shrugged fractionally. They both knew Helen Baxter had found in an out of the way, but still public place, how someone could have worked out how to gain entry to the Grove Street apartment or at least got Mainwairing to open the door.
It still did not explain "why" anyone would want to kill him, but your money would have to be on one of the two purchasers of ham and pineapple pizza at Romano's they had not tracked down. Though finding the fourth was equally smart work by Sanchez on Friday. When he found via the walking tour company, a bemused couple from Nebraska packing their bags at a mid-town hotel.
Office Of The Captain, Major Case Squad
Their weekly supervision was one of the last Danny Ross did that day and they did not spend too long on the Mainwairing case. Because of other cases were more urgent and unfolding. As he said it was early days on that, though with nothing from the canvass of the neighbourhood, uncovering motive remained the key.
"If we can clear the Corby murder tomorrow, now we've blown the alibi the girlfriend gave him, we can hit the phones and try a mail shot to the people Julius just had e-mail contacts for" said Eames.
"Bobby?" said Ross after a pause when he gave no reaction.
"Huh…yeah sure"
"You don't sound it"
"Sorry just thinking how to tackle Corby"
"With a swift knee where it hurts if we are right on motive" muttered his partner.
Goren was tempted to suggest Eames take first shot at that. Right now he was "blocked" on that one. Could not see a way "into the head" of a man in all probability killed his pregnant wife primarily for that reason.
As they left a few minutes later, she glanced up at him.
"For a moment there I wondered if you were about to suggest the Shakespearean angle for real" she joked.
"I was" he lied.
Vestry Street, Soho
"Hello Alex Eames" she said picking up what was the private line.
"Oh, yes…um hello Alex. It's Ron Carver. Is Jack there?"
"Hello Ron. He had better be very soon or his dinner will be in the trash and the chain on the door"
"I see. Well when he's eaten could you ask him if he could call me back. At home. He has the number"
"Yes of course"
"Thank you…um…goodbye"
"Bye Ron"
"Interesting" she thought on her way back to the kitchen.
Other than a couple of times on Bar Association business, Ron was not a frequent caller while she had been living half her time at McCoy's since the spring. Nothing improper of course, in a private defence attorney calling the DA, so long as the conversation remained "proper". But Jack was not one of those lawyers ever socialised exclusively in those circles, unlike some and if anything her impression was he had "loosened" some of those social connections. Either for that reason, or because his official social obligations took up enough time.
And Eames knew Ron Carver well enough to know when he was saying a lot by what he was not saying. No indication what it was about. Though as she turned down the stove to reduce the chances of them both ending up with a burned dinner, Eames reckoned she could have a good guess what it might be. It would make for an interesting situation and put the cat among the pigeons of the senior ADA's like Teresa Randle if they knew.
St Luke's Place, Greenwich Village
They separated their bodies but settled into close, cuddling and cosy contentment after something else Goren knew he had a moment of irrational hesitation about on the first occasion after they realised Caro was pregnant. What he was not sure about, until Doc Willoughby had mentioned it, was whether it was just him. Whether he was having bizarre and unique worries no other man ever had. Apparently not and the one thing the Doc said not to do, Goren was left wondering if anyone ever did. As he and Caro said afterwards, they were almost left wishing they didn't have to wait now until they could safely try that.
They lay holding and kissing and stroking in contented silence for a few minutes.
"I knew there was something I meant to tell you Rob"
"Mmm?"
There was never any telling with her what was about to come next.
"I saw Finn today. At the hospital"
"He okay?" he frowned
"Oh yes…it was work. Something to do with one of the ER nurses" she yawned. "Just met him in the hall on my way to see an RTA patient. Young guy driving a car in which his best friend got killed"
"Drunk?"
"No. Those are sometimes easier. They know the why. Said to say hello and sorry he's not made it to Roark's lately"
"Should give him a call. See how he's doing with that kid of his"
"Hardly a kid"
"Guess not. Must be older now than Finn was when he fathered him and I think you know he almost went the wrong way in the projects himself"
"Hard to make up lost time you mean?"
"Uhuh"
"One problem you won't have" she kissed him softly. "See? I knew we would find one thing for you not to fret about"
He kissed her back, stroking her almost washboard belly gently. "You can talk. Who was it saying earlier they were sure they were imagining symptoms because they think they ought to feel different?"
"It's true and no doubt when I get them, I'll wish they were just imaginary. Imaginary vomiting, phantom swollen feet and hallucinating piles"
"All of which will my fault?"
"Of course" Caro yawned. "It happened when I was asleep. Don't remember a thing about it. You done communing with junior now?"
"Mmm" he yawned reaching for the light.
To be continued…
