shoot-out in the course of trying to arrest one of Hardy’s clients. In the aftermath, Cuneo pushed for an investigation into the role that Hardy and Glitsky had played in Gerson’s death.
“I’m just saying…”
“I know. That I’ll be tempted to reason with him, tell him Gerson was dirty and it was pure self-defense, we had no choice.” He shook his head at the absurdity of the idea. “You have my word I won’t go there.”
Hardy came back and boosted himself onto his desk. “Even if you don’t, though, you’re back on his radar. He might remember what he forgot to keep up on.”
“Forget nothing. There wasn’t any evidence, thank God, and he got ordered off.”
“I remember, but he needs to stay off. For both our sakes. And working with you is going to bring up old memories. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I was aware of that even before I came in here, believe it or not. If you have any ideas, I’m listening, but otherwise the mayor’s ordered me to work with the guy. What do you want me to do, quit?”
Hardy brightened. “It’s a thought.”
“Great. Let me just borrow your phone and I’ll call Treya and let her know.” He stood up and went to pull some darts from the board. Turning back with them, he shrugged. “I’ve kept a close eye on him, as you might guess. The plain fact—and good news for us—is that he’s careless and sloppy. This morning’s an example. He’s at Hanover’s fifteen minutes and tells the press it’s murder/suicide.”
“So it’s not?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got a couple of questions. I don’t see Hanover burning down his house, for one big one. He just shoots the woman, stands there a minute, then does himself, okay, that flies. But Becker, the arson inspector out there, he says it looks like he did her, then in no particular order after that poured gasoline on her, wadded up a bunch of newspapers, and opened the lower-floor windows and at least one in the back on the top floor for ventilation. After all that, he goes back to where she’s lying in the lobby, starts the fire, then shoots himself.”
“That does sound complicated,” Hardy said.
Glitsky nodded. “At least. Did you know him?”
“Hanover? Slightly, to look at. I met him a couple of times, but never faced him in court. I can’t say he made a huge impression.”
“Kathy West wouldn’t agree.”
Hardy broke a small grin. “He gave Kathy West a lot of money, Abe. If he gave me a lot of money, I’d remember him better, too.” Pushing himself off his desk, he took the darts from Glitsky, threw one of them. “You know, here’s areal idea, and you won’t have to quit. Use the opportunity to mend fences with Cuneo. He tells the media it looks like a murder/suicide, you back him up, say he did a fine job. Everybody wins.”
“Everybody but Kathy. But that’s what I will do if that’s what it turns out to be. In the meantime, Cuneo’s going to resent me being involved at all, I guarantee it. That’s my real problem. It’s going to look like I’m checking up on his work.”
“That’s what you
are
doing.”
Glitsky sat back down, elbows on his knees, hung his head and shook it from side to side. Finally, he looked back up. “I’ve got to talk to him,” he said.
4
G litsky got Cuneo’s extension at work and, calling from his car phone, left a message that they needed to talk. He was going to make every effort to be both conciliatory and cooperative. They would be in this investigation together, and would share information both with each other and with the arson inspectors—a mini task force. But Cuneo wasn’t scheduled to be back on duty until six o’clock. And Glitsky, who preferred murder investigations to all other forms of police work, thought he might spend some useful time long before that with the city’s medical examiner.
John Strout worked on the ground floor behind the Hall of Justice, in the morgue and its accompanying rooms. When Glitsky got