politicians. Truly, a few bad apples and we’re all condemned.”
“Could she have accessed sensitive information that she may have leveraged with Congressman Crowley or others?”
“Others?”
“We’re keeping a broad mind.”
“I suppose she could have accessed any of the files here, but most of our records are public, as required by law.”
“Did you, or anyone on your staff, ask Wendy James to unduly influence Alan Crowley or any other sitting member of the House of Representatives?”
Ms. Sullivan was taken aback by the question, and Lucy was surprised as well. Stein slipped it in smoothly, in the same tone and manner as his initial softball questions.
“Absolutely not,” she said firmly.
“Would you mind if I spoke to your staff?”
She hesitated, the first sign that she was nervous about something. It could be natural, stemming from the tragic situation, or it could be more calculating. Lucy wasn’t certain.
“Of course you may, but if it’s about my clients, I need to be present.”
“Just about Wendy, who she dated, if anyone knew about the affair.”
Devon Sullivan didn’t relax. “I suppose. When?”
“Now would be perfect,” Stein said.
“I’ll make the conference room available.” She left the office, closing the door behind her.
Stein grinned and said in a low voice, “I’m going to give Ms. Sullivan a rectal exam.”
“Excuse me?” Lucy said.
“You think a lobbyist like her didn’t know her secretary was doing the horizontal bop with a player like Crowley? Hell no.”
“Murder is a long way from political corruption,” Noah said.
Stein shrugged. “Maybe. Probably no connection. But you shouldn’t be surprised how fast people tell the truth when they think they’re facing more serious charges. Anything going on in this company, I’ll find it.” He glanced at his watch. “We still have time to catch Crowley at his office. Damn, I love my job.”
Lucy barely refrained from grimacing. Stein was too giddy about his work; she wondered if he cared anything about the victim—or if winning was the only thing that mattered.
* * *
They could easily have walked from DSA to the Capitol, but Stein insisted on driving even though it was close to five in the afternoon and the roads were crowded. It took him fifteen minutes to find a parking place—a white-zone reserved for Capitol Police.
He slid his official federal business placard on the dash and got out of the car, whistling.
Lucy decided that she didn’t care how smart Josh Stein was, or his case clearance rate, she did not like a man who whistled while investigating murder.
They walked toward Crowley’s office in the Rayburn building. “Josh,” Noah said, “I let you lead with the lobbyist, let me take the lead with Crowley.”
“I’m on a roll, Armstrong. Think I can’t handle a homicide investigation?”
“I think you’d be great, but you’ve been an agent how long? Fifteen years? How many homicides?”
Stein didn’t say anything.
“If you have a question, jump in, but if you don’t mind…” he let his comment hang.
Stein jerked his thumb toward Lucy. “Why’s she here again?”
“Slater wanted a forensic analyst.”
“Is she going to be asking questions? Slater told you we are under the gun. Every step watched by everyone, including press.”
“I understand exactly what we face.”
“Noah,” she began.
He shot her a look that told her to remain quiet. She was going to suggest she wait outside, knowing that Stein didn’t want her involved, and not wanting her presence to jeopardize the case—even though she didn’t know how that would happen.
She wished Noah had given her a better understanding of their role working with the White Collar division, as well as how he intended to question Congressman Crowley. She disliked the power plays between the two divisions, with the uncertainty of who was really in charge. And she didn’t like this side of Noah.
Lucy
“Could she have accessed sensitive information that she may have leveraged with Congressman Crowley or others?”
“Others?”
“We’re keeping a broad mind.”
“I suppose she could have accessed any of the files here, but most of our records are public, as required by law.”
“Did you, or anyone on your staff, ask Wendy James to unduly influence Alan Crowley or any other sitting member of the House of Representatives?”
Ms. Sullivan was taken aback by the question, and Lucy was surprised as well. Stein slipped it in smoothly, in the same tone and manner as his initial softball questions.
“Absolutely not,” she said firmly.
“Would you mind if I spoke to your staff?”
She hesitated, the first sign that she was nervous about something. It could be natural, stemming from the tragic situation, or it could be more calculating. Lucy wasn’t certain.
“Of course you may, but if it’s about my clients, I need to be present.”
“Just about Wendy, who she dated, if anyone knew about the affair.”
Devon Sullivan didn’t relax. “I suppose. When?”
“Now would be perfect,” Stein said.
“I’ll make the conference room available.” She left the office, closing the door behind her.
Stein grinned and said in a low voice, “I’m going to give Ms. Sullivan a rectal exam.”
“Excuse me?” Lucy said.
“You think a lobbyist like her didn’t know her secretary was doing the horizontal bop with a player like Crowley? Hell no.”
“Murder is a long way from political corruption,” Noah said.
Stein shrugged. “Maybe. Probably no connection. But you shouldn’t be surprised how fast people tell the truth when they think they’re facing more serious charges. Anything going on in this company, I’ll find it.” He glanced at his watch. “We still have time to catch Crowley at his office. Damn, I love my job.”
Lucy barely refrained from grimacing. Stein was too giddy about his work; she wondered if he cared anything about the victim—or if winning was the only thing that mattered.
* * *
They could easily have walked from DSA to the Capitol, but Stein insisted on driving even though it was close to five in the afternoon and the roads were crowded. It took him fifteen minutes to find a parking place—a white-zone reserved for Capitol Police.
He slid his official federal business placard on the dash and got out of the car, whistling.
Lucy decided that she didn’t care how smart Josh Stein was, or his case clearance rate, she did not like a man who whistled while investigating murder.
They walked toward Crowley’s office in the Rayburn building. “Josh,” Noah said, “I let you lead with the lobbyist, let me take the lead with Crowley.”
“I’m on a roll, Armstrong. Think I can’t handle a homicide investigation?”
“I think you’d be great, but you’ve been an agent how long? Fifteen years? How many homicides?”
Stein didn’t say anything.
“If you have a question, jump in, but if you don’t mind…” he let his comment hang.
Stein jerked his thumb toward Lucy. “Why’s she here again?”
“Slater wanted a forensic analyst.”
“Is she going to be asking questions? Slater told you we are under the gun. Every step watched by everyone, including press.”
“I understand exactly what we face.”
“Noah,” she began.
He shot her a look that told her to remain quiet. She was going to suggest she wait outside, knowing that Stein didn’t want her involved, and not wanting her presence to jeopardize the case—even though she didn’t know how that would happen.
She wished Noah had given her a better understanding of their role working with the White Collar division, as well as how he intended to question Congressman Crowley. She disliked the power plays between the two divisions, with the uncertainty of who was really in charge. And she didn’t like this side of Noah.
Lucy
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