"Capital Crimes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kellerman Jonathan, Kellerman Faye)

9

As luck would have it, Barnes found a parking space right on Telegraph, the avenue swimming with the typical time-warp mix of hippies, retro-hippies, one-note fanatics and junk entrepreneurs looking scruffier than any of the others. The uniform was torn jeans, message T-shirts, leather headbands and glassy eyes. Booths were set up on the sidewalks, hawking everything from Maoist theory and anti-Amerikan nihilism to mood rings, organic Viagra, and scented candles. Music blared from speakers attached to competing CD stores. The resulting aural broth was a wall of white noise to Barnes’s ears, but what did he know, he’d never progressed much past Buck Owens.

Noise and body odor notwithstanding, Barnes was happy to be there. The day had turned sunny, the skies were clear and his lungs needed to suck in something other than death. On Telegraph, that meant secondary smoke not from tobacco.

Back in the Stone ages, when he’d been an eighteen-year-old high school graduate, advanced education in his circles meant two years at a community college learning animal husbandry. He’d been a decent, but uninspired student and a good varsity football player. Unfortunately there weren’t a whole lot of jobs for “good but never, never, ever gonna make it to the pros” running backs. Ergo, the military, and that had been okay for a few years. When he finished up his tour, he had narrowed his future to farming, trucking, or the police academy. Law enforcement was the decision because it seemed like more fun, and Barnes had some book smarts so he advanced within a narrow sphere.

As a detective, he got to use his brain, and, sometimes, he felt like he had a good one.

Still, whenever he had any business at the UC, he felt uncomfortable. He had never attended classes at a genuine university, and the Berkeley campus was as big as a city. It had its own government, its own police force and its own set of rules, explicit and otherwise.

As he walked along leafy lanes, some of the buildings were downright imposing, others looked as inviting as a concrete bunker and he felt like an invader from outer space. Invader past his prime.

Using his little map as a guide, he couldn’t help but notice how young the kids were and that made him feel even older.

Dr. Alice Kurtag’s lab was housed in a six-story, post-modern, brick and concrete structure that had been retrofitted for earthquakes. Berkeley wasn’t perched directly on the San Andreas Fault, but like all the Bay Area, the ground was plenty seismic and no one could predict when The Big One was coming.

And yet, thought Barnes, we pretend. He entered Kurtag’s building, drawing stares from a clutch of grad students. Kurtag’s lab on the fourth floor was sizeable; her office was not. Her private domain barely held a desk and two chairs. It did have a nice view of the city and the water beyond. The fog had lifted several hours ago and the burn-off had produced a blue sky streaked with white clouds and contrails.

Kurtag looked to be in her fifties, a handsome woman with strong features and a short efficient hairdo. She had blond streaks running through dark hair, and strong brown eyes. She wore little makeup, just a dot of red on her cheeks and something soft and wet on her lips. She had on a long-sleeved green blouse, black slacks and boots. Her ears were adorned with diamond studs. Her nails were short but manicured.

“Do you know anything about a memorial service?” she asked Barnes.

Her voice was soft and surprisingly airy.

“No, Doctor, I don’t. But I’m sure there will be one as soon as the coroner releases the body.”

“I suppose it’s premature at this stage.”

Barnes nodded.

“This is just terrible. What happened? Was it a robbery?”

“I hate to sound evasive, but we just don’t have all the facts. I know the city council is going to hold a town hall meeting tonight at seven. Maybe we’ll know more by then.”

“I certainly hope so. This is so upsetting. I work late at night. I’m alone here myself quite often. I’d hate to think of a predator stalking single women. And of course, poor Davida.”

“How’s the security here?”

“It’s a university. It’s filled with people who belong and people who don’t. Most of the time, I bury my nose in my work and don’t look around too much. Now I’m so upset, I can barely concentrate.”

“Were you and Davida close?”

“Over the past year, we’d become very close, working on her bill. Now…without her as an advocate…I really don’t know what chance we have for passage.”

Barnes said, “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Yesterday afternoon.” The doctor’s voice cracked. “It seems so far away now.”

“What was the occasion?”

“She stopped by to pick up some reports for some lobbyists. She was going to hit the capital full force this week and needed all the scientific information I could muster. I had some of the material ready, but not all of it. She was going to come by this afternoon to pick it up…” Again, her voice broke, but this time her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s a terrible thing,” Barnes said. “Did you socialize with Davida outside of work?”

Alice Kurtag wiped her eyes with a tissue. “With Davida, everything was work- from her parties to her meetings. Occasionally, when we were working long hours, we’d treat ourselves to dinner and a movie. Neither of us have children to rush home to.” The scientist smiled sadly. “We weren’t lovers if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

Barnes gave her a neutral shrug. “Did she ever confide in you?”

“Now and then, I guess. She’d tell me how worried she was about the bill. She only had support in the House if every one of her fellow Democrats chose to back her up. Some had changed their minds, others gave her a hard time from the beginning.”

“How so?”

“They objected to the cost of funding the proposition, said give the initiative-funded institute a chance.” Kurtag frowned. “Science doesn’t come cheap. What worthwhile endeavor is cheap?”

“Did she ever talk to you about personal fears?” When Kurtag seemed puzzled, Barnes clarified his question. “Was she specifically afraid of someone or something?”

“She never said anything to me…other than to complain how betrayed she felt.”

“Betrayed?”

“By her colleagues.”

“Which ones?”

“I don’t recall. I organize data, conduct experiments, write reports, Detective. I don’t do the actual lobbying.” She paused. “There was a woman representative…Elaine something.”

“Eileen Ferunzio.”

“She’s the one. Davida was furious with her. Apparently, Davida had recently thrown her support behind one of Eileen’s bills, so when she didn’t get reciprocity, she felt totally betrayed. But there was never any hint that Eileen was dangerous. That’s absurd.”

Barnes wondered. “We’ve heard Davida had received some threatening letters.”

“Threatening letters?” Alice thought about that. “Oh, from that crackpot down in Orange County? She seemed more amused by it than scared.”

“Do you remember the crackpot’s name?”

“Harry something.”

“Harry Modell?”

“Yes.” The doctor appeared annoyed. “If you know all of this, why are you wasting my time?”

“I know some things but not everything. So she didn’t take Modell’s threats seriously?”

“Not to my eye. She mentioned something to the effect that she knew things about him, and that all his threats were nothing but bluster.”

“What kind of things?”

“She didn’t specify.”

“Blackmail things?”

“Oh please, why would she waste time blackmailing a loser like him?”

Barnes pressed on. “After Davida mentioned these ‘things,’ did the threatening letters stop?”

“I really don’t know. It wasn’t the focus of our meetings.”

“How often did she mention Harry Modell?”

Expansive. “Maybe twice, three times.”

“When was the last time she mentioned him?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, Detective.”

“A week ago? A month ago?”

“Maybe a month, but I couldn’t swear to it. Really you’re making too big a deal out of him. Is that all? I’m distracted enough as it is. I really need to get back to work.”

“Please, Dr. Kurtag, just bear with me. Did Davida ever talk to you about Minette Padgett?”

Alice appeared uncomfortable. She didn’t answer right away. “You think Minette murdered her?”

The frankness of Kurtag’s question took Barnes aback. “What do you think?”

“I think that unless you think Minette had something to do with her death, I don’t want to talk about her.”

Barnes ignored her and pressed on. “Minette was having an affair…with a man. Did Davida know?”

Kurtag’s eyes hardened. “Davida didn’t place a premium on her domestic life. She had bigger issues to deal with.”

“What does that mean? She knew but didn’t care?”

No answer.

Barnes said, “Was she was going to dump Minette? Was she having an affair herself?”

Alice Kurtag’s eyes drifted to the ceiling. “It would be helpful if you asked your questions one at a time.”

“Okay,” said Barnes. “Did Davida know about Minette’s affair?”

“She hinted about it- Minette thinks she’s subtle, but she’s not. But she didn’t seem to care, Detective. She was getting a bit tired of Minette’s whining.”

“Was she going to dump Minette?”

“That never came up.”

“Do you know if Davida was involved with someone else?”

“No, I don’t. Frankly, I don’t see when she would have had the time.”

“I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Dr. Kurtag, but where were you last night?”

Alice was silent. Then she said, “Where I am practically every night. Here, at the lab, working.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone. Who else works at two in the morning?”

Davida had been at her desk at two in the morning. Barnes kept his thoughts to himself. “When did you leave the lab?”

“I didn’t. I slept here last night.”

“Where?”

“At my desk.”

And Barnes thought he had a lonely life. “Do you often sleep at your desk?”

“Not often.” Alice shot him a cold stare. “Occasionally.”

“If I offended you,” Barnes said, “that wasn’t my intention. I have to ask sensitive questions, Doctor. Right now, I’m trying to piece together a time line. So you were here all night?”

Kurtag showed him her profile. Tight lips, squinty eyes. “All night,” she said softly.

“Alone.”

“I already told you that.”

“You’re sure no one saw you here?”

Kurtag’s smile came nowhere near mirth. “I suppose that means I have no alibi.”

“Would you mind if I gave you a gunshot residue test- just a swab of your hands?”

“I would mind because I resent the implication. But go ahead, do it anyway. Then you can leave.”