Rune Alignment

Chapter 45

Edward sat up, cleared his throat and began, "Well, the warrant for the copy of Wintermantle's home phone messages is ready at Carver's office. I thought I'd run over, get it and take it to the phone company. I was going to do that yesterday, but . . . we were otherwise engaged."

"Send a uniformed to do it. You've got other things to do here." Deakins said. "What else?"

"The results on the envelope that was slipped under her door are back from trace."

Bobby shifted his gaze back to Sledge.

Sledge flipped some papers and said, "The envelope had no prints whatsoever. The guy must have worn gloves. The adhesive was dampened with a wet cloth, not saliva. A fraction of a single fiber was found on the glue. It has no unique properties, simple plain cotton typically used in the manufacture of underwear, tee shirts, and jersey knit bed sheets, no dyes, and no finishes. Could be from any white rag, anywhere. The paper inside was blank, no writing, no drawings, no pasted pictures or cut out words. Nothing, nada, zilch. A blank piece of paper. It, too, bore no prints. Both the paper and envelope are unremarkable. Standard issue office supply."

"Why would someone deliver a blank sheet of paper?" Bishop asked.

"To show that he could get to her. Get into her locked building. Get up to her door. Show her she wasn't safe." Bobby answered steadily.

"But you got in easily enough. You said it yourself, anyone could get in." Sledge offered.

"What's your point?" Bobby asked with a tense edge.

"Nothing, man, I'm just saying. Why is it a big deal that the guy got in? Anyone can get in, right?"

"It's a big deal because this guy wants to hurt her. He's hurt her in the past and wants to do it again."

They all looked at Bobby. Seconds ticked by. Finally, Deakins asked, "What do you mean he's hurt her before? The professor knows this guy? How has he hurt her? What were you talking about a minute ago, with Huang? Goren, what do you know that you're not telling us?"

Bobby sat back in his chair and shook his head. "Goren?"

He shook his head and waved his right hand, shooing away the question.

Deakins sighed and said to Sledge, "What else do you have?"

"We need to get the student's local address. We need to search his place, find out why he did this."

"I'll take care of that," Bishop offered. "I'll dig further at the university and other resources to get his address. Then I'll call Carver's office for the warrant. It will probably be tomorrow before we can move on his place."

"We have to find his place first. I was thinking about her hand bag." Bobby's eyes slid back to Edward. "Her bag hasn't shown up yet. I'm thinking she had it with her; women are usually not far from it when they go out. Her secretary doesn't remember seeing it. I'm thinking it's either still in her office or somewhere in the hallway. It might have some information in it that will be helpful."

"Well, it's probably in the hallway. She was on her way out when she was – when everything happened." Bishop offered and shot a quick glance at Bobby. Everyone was being so delicate with him in the room.

"Belzberg is buttoned up and taped. I thought I'd head over with a uniform and look for her bag. I think we need it." Sledge suggested. He wanted to ask Bobby what it looked like, but he was afraid to say anything to Goren. It would help to know what we're looking for, he thought, but the guy's on the edge as it is. Let it go and do some detective work.

"Brief the uniform and send him. We need you here." Deakins said.

"Anything else? Eames, you've been awfully quiet, you have anything?"

Alex shook her head, barely looked up and said softly, "No. I have nothing."

"I have one more thing," Sledge offered. Everyone looked and waited. "I was, uh, wondering why the professor was at the university yesterday when she said she'd be out for several days." Bobby looked back to Sledge. "I talked with the professor's graduate assistant and secretary yesterday afternoon." Bobby leaned forward on the edge of the table. Sledge kept looking over at him, expecting some reaction. "Her secretary said the professor had called in and asked if anyone could bring her laptop to her; that she wasn't able to leave where she was. She wanted to continue working on her book. No one was free to do it. So, uh, she, uh, took a cab and went to get it herself. She was on her way out of the office when the shooting started."

Bobby stared at Sledge. Everyone saw his breathing deepen. Then he reached up and squeezed his eyes with his right hand. He shook his head, sniffed, picked up his portfolio, stood and walked out.

Everyone exhaled a collective breath.

"Ok, thanks Edward, you've done a lot of good work. Thanks."

Eames stalled until the others left and then walked to Deakins' office. She stepped through the open door and asked, "Do you have a minute?"

This is it, Deakins thought to himself. "Sure, come in and close the door."

Bobby stood at his desk, thinking, she took a cab. She wanted to work on her book. She wanted her laptop. She swore she wouldn't leave. I should have thought to get her laptop on Saturday or Sunday. Jesus, she was there because I didn't think to do that one stupid little thing. I put her there.

"Excuse me, detective."

Bobby spun around. Louise from transcription stood holding a file folder. "Sorry this is late; I had to keep taking a break, listening to that boy go at himself like that! Child, he must have rubbed himself to nothing." Louise was colorful. "Anyway, I caught every word I could make out. Found myself transcribing all his oohs, ahhhs, and grunts. I needed a cigarette after each ninety second message; and I don't smoke, mind you."

"Thank you Louise. I'm sorry you had to hear that. I know it was terrible to listen to. Thanks, though," Bobby said sincerely.

Louise looked at the strapping hunk of man and then at his hand, "You do that over a woman?"

Bobby looked at the floor and then at her. He could say nothing.

She saw the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry, detective. Whatever it is, it works out the way He wants it to," she pointed upward. She looked at him, this man is a good, good man; she's lucky whoever she is. Louise put a hand on Bobby's arm, turned and headed back toward the elevators.

"Sit down," Deakins indicated to one of the two guest chairs in front of his desk. Alex sat in one and Deakins turned the other to face hers, then sat. He looked at the tiny detective and waited for it.

"I'd like to request a new partner," Eames said to Deakins.

Deakins knew this was coming. He'd thought about it ever since the shooting. "Have you spoken to Bobby about this?"

"He won't even acknowledge that I'm in the room."

"Detective, this is a serious request. You and Bobby are two of my best detectives. You are in synch; you work like a single unit. You've been together, what, five years?"

"Almost seven."

"Alex, I'm not sure I can find anyone to partner with him. You know how he is." Silence. Then, "I'm not sure I can do this, Alex. I'm sorry."

"So you're going to deny my request because it's what's best for you and for him?"

"Alex, that isn't what I said . . ."

"Yes, it is. Listen to yourself – 'can't find anyone,' 'you know how he is.' You're only concern here is what's best for Bobby. This isn't about him, this is about me and what is best for me."

"Alex," Deakins looked like Bobby sometimes did, anguished.

"I cannot work with him. He doesn't want me as a partner anymore. He thinks he can't trust me . . . and, and – he may be right. It's broken between us. We'd be no good together anymore. We'd second-guess each other at every step. Do this for me."

Deakins and Eames stared at each other and said nothing; there was nothing left to say.

Eames broke the silence, she looked at her boss and said, "Then I request a transfer out."

"Aw, Alex, come on. You don't mean that."

"Yes, sir, I do. I can no longer work with Goren. If that can't change, then I can no longer work here. I'll submit my formal request this afternoon." Eames walked back to her desk.