Part 12 (1/2)
”It's not a joke,” Z said. ”Maybe I should have told you this in our first cla.s.s. If so, I apologize. But here it is. Don't screw with a Chicago cop. They can be ruthless, extremely violent, and largely devoid of conscience. If you threaten them, they'll do whatever they have to in order to protect themselves or whatever else they feel needs protecting. They carry a badge. They carry a gun. And some of them don't think twice before using either.”
”I suspect we might have gotten a little taste of that already,” Havens said. Then he described our trip to the evidence warehouse and my traffic stop.
”And you didn't feel the need to mention this when Rodriguez was here?” Z said.
”I don't remember him asking about it.” Havens smiled. We all did. Except for Z.
”What did they get out of the car, Ian?”
”Paperwork from the Wingate file. Police reports, case notes. Stuff like that.”
”And you kept no copies?” Z said.
”Those were the copies,” Havens said, cutting me off. He didn't want Z to know about the notes I'd reconstructed from memory, which was fine by me.
”So you have nothing from the warehouse?” Z said.
”Hardly.” That was Sarah. Hard to believe, but I'd almost forgotten about last night-the vodka, the beach, the swim.
”How so, Ms. Gold?”
”Big picture? Jake gets a letter about Wingate. We go to the crime scene and the police find another body nearby.”
”You heard the detective. No plausible connection to Wingate.”
”Still,” Sarah said, ”it happened. Fact. Then we go down to the warehouse, and all the evidence is gone. I mean, the box is there and a few sc.r.a.ps, but everything else is gone.”
”Evidence often disappears,” Z said. ”Especially in older cases.”
”Our point is this,” Sarah said. ”We think there's something wrong here.” She paused. Havens and I nodded in agreement. ”Someone doesn't want us to look at this case. And we don't understand why.”
Z creased her upper lip with her knuckle and sank into a frown. I thought she might have forgotten we were there when she suddenly spoke. ”How did you guys feel about my bringing in Rodriguez today?”
”I thought it sucked.”
”Don't pull any punches on my behalf, Mr. Havens.”
”How would you feel, if you were sitting in our seats?” Havens said.
”I'd probably feel like I got sandbagged.”
”Exactly.”
Z turned to me. ”What do you think, Ian?”
”I think you struggled with the decision but thought Rodriguez was a homicide cop and it was better we talk here than downtown.” I paused. ”But I gotta agree with Jake. From where we sit, it sucked.”
”Fair enough. The next question is this: Do you still trust me?”
”Do you trust us?” Sarah said.
Z tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. ”I can't say I'm thrilled with what you've been up to. But I'm impressed. And a little intrigued.”
”That's not an answer,” Sarah said.
”I guess I'm going to have to think about it.”
”Right back at you,” Sarah said.
Z rocked lightly in her chair. I thought she might get up and leave. Suspend the seminar. Pull the next three students off her waiting list and start all over. I couldn't half blame her.
”You honestly don't think there's something wrong here?” Havens said.
”I can't tell you how many cases I've looked at, Mr. Havens, where I knew something was wrong. I knew it. But I couldn't prove it. The facts just weren't there. Sometimes they even pointed in an opposite direction. So I kept my mouth shut and watched the bad guys walk. Hardest part of the job, and a lesson you all need to learn. You heard Rodriguez. It's not what someone did. It's what you can prove.”
”We need a little more time with Wingate,” I said.
”You've had three days and nearly gotten arrested twice.”
”That's not a problem,” I said.
”For you, maybe not. For the university, it's a big problem.”
”You still haven't told us what you think of the case,” Havens said.
”I told you it was intriguing. Which means nothing. Based on what I've actually seen, your investigation is at a dead end.”
”We still have a couple of leads to run down,” I said.
”And you don't want to tell me about them?”
”We want you to trust us,” Sarah said.
Z's fingers sounded like dead bolts as she drummed them on the desk. ”Trust is a two-way street.”
”We understand,” Sarah said.
”I'm good with that,” Havens said.
I just nodded.
”Okay. One more week.” Z slipped on her gla.s.ses. ”Right now, I need each of you to write up a memo on your trip to the forest preserve, as well as everything you remember about the evidence warehouse. Then I need a summary of where the investigation stands and what your next steps might be. Please give me as many specifics as you can spare.”
”I've got a question,” I said.
”Where would we be without it, Mr. Joyce?”