right.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, okay?” Liz leveled a look at both men. “Did you tell this prosecutor about David and me, Danny?” Foreman looked as if she’d slapped him across the face. “He knows, Danny,” she said, indicating Boldt. “I told you I wasn’t going to hide any of this.”
“He knows I have some juice on you, yes, because he asked how far we could push you.”
“And you answered, how?” Boldt asked.
“I was clear that the degree of her involvement would probably be defined by you more than by her.”
“But you said you had juice.”
“I did, but Paul has no idea of the nature of that.”
“He can guess,” Liz said.
“No. If he guesses, it will have to do with internal politics, because that’s the way Paul Geiser thinks.” Foreman looked around the room, his eyes landing on the kids’ books and toys. Boldt wondered if he was thinking that had Darlene lived, such clutter might be on the floor of his own living room. “I want her to make the drop.”
“Absolutely not.”
“To show goodwill. To show him she means business, that he can trust her.”
“Hayes needs her and her security clearance in order to access these computers. That makes her a constant target of possible abduction. A drop like this…for all we know, it’s a trap being laid to kidnap her.”
Liz interjected, “Then why wouldn’t he have simply taken me when we met earlier? He had a terrific opportunity. No, it’s not the way David operates. He’s not going to kidnap anyone. If he can’t get me to do this for him, he’ll think of something else.”
“We do not want to lose contact with him,” Foreman pressed. “Liz is that contact.”
“So we’ll give him what he wants,” Boldt said.
Liz asked, “Will someone please tell me what we’re all agreeing to?”
“Give us a chance to set it up,” Boldt told Foreman, who looked as surprised as Liz that he had acquiesced. Boldt told them exactly what he had in mind.
FIVE
“THE WOMEN’S REST ROOM DOWN the hall will have a yellow sign out front saying it’s being cleaned,” Danny Foreman told Liz over the phone in a calm, melodious voice. “Go in there now.”
She walked out her office door and down the hall, telling her assistant that she’d be right back. She doubted that. The wall clock read 3:40. She was scheduled to pick up the five thousand in cash at 4:00. This was it. A day of clock-watching over, actually
doing something
felt a bit surreal.
Stepping inside, she was met by a woman she recognized. This woman locked the door behind her and whispered “Clear” into the echoing tile room.
It took Liz a moment to identify Detective Bobbie Gaynes because of the dark blue coveralls. Gaynes was the first woman to ever make Homicide. She wore her dark hair cut short, and the cleaning-company coveralls fit her loosely.
Gaynes spoke softly. “Your every movement will be tracked by Special Ops, Mrs. B.” Everyone on the Crimes Against Persons unit called her this. “Just as the Lieu probablytold you, I need you to follow my instructions closely and do exactly as I say. Me and the girls urge you to ask questions whenever you’re unclear. We’ll repeat or explain ourselves as necessary, though time is of the essence. Okay? We want to get this right the first time. Okay?” She waited hardly a second. “Good.”
Liz found it hard to breathe.
Lou had explained the operation to her, but it had seemed at the time that little would be expected of her. Now, even that little bit felt like too much.
Gaynes continued, “This here is Gina.” The woman stood about five feet, and had to be a size two. She had Italian coloring, a sweet smile, and a firm handshake. “If you ever seen
Cats
up on Fifth, you seen Gina’s handiwork.” In front of Gina, on the countertop between two sinks, a series of open fishing tackle boxes offered a wealth of cosmetics, from eyebrow pencils and blushes to hairpieces and bras.
A woman with dark
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, okay?” Liz leveled a look at both men. “Did you tell this prosecutor about David and me, Danny?” Foreman looked as if she’d slapped him across the face. “He knows, Danny,” she said, indicating Boldt. “I told you I wasn’t going to hide any of this.”
“He knows I have some juice on you, yes, because he asked how far we could push you.”
“And you answered, how?” Boldt asked.
“I was clear that the degree of her involvement would probably be defined by you more than by her.”
“But you said you had juice.”
“I did, but Paul has no idea of the nature of that.”
“He can guess,” Liz said.
“No. If he guesses, it will have to do with internal politics, because that’s the way Paul Geiser thinks.” Foreman looked around the room, his eyes landing on the kids’ books and toys. Boldt wondered if he was thinking that had Darlene lived, such clutter might be on the floor of his own living room. “I want her to make the drop.”
“Absolutely not.”
“To show goodwill. To show him she means business, that he can trust her.”
“Hayes needs her and her security clearance in order to access these computers. That makes her a constant target of possible abduction. A drop like this…for all we know, it’s a trap being laid to kidnap her.”
Liz interjected, “Then why wouldn’t he have simply taken me when we met earlier? He had a terrific opportunity. No, it’s not the way David operates. He’s not going to kidnap anyone. If he can’t get me to do this for him, he’ll think of something else.”
“We do not want to lose contact with him,” Foreman pressed. “Liz is that contact.”
“So we’ll give him what he wants,” Boldt said.
Liz asked, “Will someone please tell me what we’re all agreeing to?”
“Give us a chance to set it up,” Boldt told Foreman, who looked as surprised as Liz that he had acquiesced. Boldt told them exactly what he had in mind.
FIVE
“THE WOMEN’S REST ROOM DOWN the hall will have a yellow sign out front saying it’s being cleaned,” Danny Foreman told Liz over the phone in a calm, melodious voice. “Go in there now.”
She walked out her office door and down the hall, telling her assistant that she’d be right back. She doubted that. The wall clock read 3:40. She was scheduled to pick up the five thousand in cash at 4:00. This was it. A day of clock-watching over, actually
doing something
felt a bit surreal.
Stepping inside, she was met by a woman she recognized. This woman locked the door behind her and whispered “Clear” into the echoing tile room.
It took Liz a moment to identify Detective Bobbie Gaynes because of the dark blue coveralls. Gaynes was the first woman to ever make Homicide. She wore her dark hair cut short, and the cleaning-company coveralls fit her loosely.
Gaynes spoke softly. “Your every movement will be tracked by Special Ops, Mrs. B.” Everyone on the Crimes Against Persons unit called her this. “Just as the Lieu probablytold you, I need you to follow my instructions closely and do exactly as I say. Me and the girls urge you to ask questions whenever you’re unclear. We’ll repeat or explain ourselves as necessary, though time is of the essence. Okay? We want to get this right the first time. Okay?” She waited hardly a second. “Good.”
Liz found it hard to breathe.
Lou had explained the operation to her, but it had seemed at the time that little would be expected of her. Now, even that little bit felt like too much.
Gaynes continued, “This here is Gina.” The woman stood about five feet, and had to be a size two. She had Italian coloring, a sweet smile, and a firm handshake. “If you ever seen
Cats
up on Fifth, you seen Gina’s handiwork.” In front of Gina, on the countertop between two sinks, a series of open fishing tackle boxes offered a wealth of cosmetics, from eyebrow pencils and blushes to hairpieces and bras.
A woman with dark
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