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Jack knocked on a door with peeling green paint and a harried-looking man came to the door. He wore a blue button-down with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows and glasses. His hair was disheveled and there was what I presumed was a coffee stain down the front of his shirt.
Jack held up his badge before the guy could shut the door in our faces. “We’re here to see Toby Wallace.”
The guy stared at the badge a few seconds, his brow furrowed. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Come on in. She lives up on the third floor.”
I looked around the entryway, noticing the stairs that were neatly tucked away in the corner. There was a big living area right in the center of the room with comfortable-looking couches and a fireplace that had candles in the firebox instead of wood. The interior of the house seemed to be in much better shape than the exterior and the furnishings were nice, if comfortably used. They had thick curtains over each of the barred windows.
“Do you live here?” Jack asked, looking around.
“Umm…yeah,” he said. “What’s this about?”
“Are you a lawyer too?”
“Yes,” he said. “We’re all law clerks. What do you want with Toby?”
“Do you have a name?”
“Will,” he said. “Will Matthews.”
Jack’s expression was affable enough, but I could tell he was getting aggravated at having to pull answers out of Will.
“Do you know Cami Downey?” Jack asked.
“Of course,” he said. “She lives here. She shares the third floor with Toby. Why?”
“Because Cami is dead,” Jack said. “Maybe you could stop with the questions and start answering mine. How many people live here?”
“Wait a second,” Will said, holding up a hand as if Jack were going to rush toward him. “What do you mean Cami is dead? How? When?”
“She was murdered,” Jack said. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking agitated. “We all work crazy hours. Maybe two or three days ago. Maybe longer. But that’s not uncommon depending on our workload. Am I a suspect? I’ll schedule a formal inquiry at the police station and answer your questions there within reason. I’ll let you know if I’ll be representing myself or if I’ll have a colleague stand in.”
“You see, Will,” Jack said, his voice nice and even. “What you’re doing is making me think you have something to hide. When all I asked you was your name and how many people live here. Did you kill Cami Downey?”
“No, don’t be absurd,” he said, scoffing. “And I resent the implication.”
“What I resent is you wasting my time,” Jack said. “Now if you know anything about the law, which I’m starting to doubt, you’ll know that we’ve got a team on the way to search this place because it’s a murder. So I hope we don’t find the reason your pupils are dilated to the size of saucers. Maybe a guy who has a cocaine problem isn’t that far off from a guy who can commit murder.”
The guy’s fists balled up and his face turned an unhealthy shade of red. I was a little slow on the uptake, but it was clear now that the guy had been using. It wasn’t uncommon in certain circles when you needed to pull all-nighters. There’d been a couple of doctors at the hospital while I was there who had a reputation for taking hits of cocaine to make it to end of shift.
“I do know the law,” he said, leaning toward Jack, trying to intimidate him. “You’ve got to find probable cause to search the other apartments in this place. Good luck with that.”
“The cocaine is probable cause, genius,” Jack said.
Just when I thought the guy was going to charge at Jack, another man came out of a room on the opposite side of the living area.
“What the hell, Will,” the man said, blocking Will from doing anything stupid. “Have you lost your mind? Do you want to go down for assaulting a police officer? Don’t be stupid.”
“It was provoked,” Will said. “I want to file a grievance.”
The other man turned to us and smiled with a lot of teeth. He was handsome and tanned and fit, with a Kennedyesque air about him. I disliked him instantly. I preferred guys like Will Matthews because you knew exactly where they stood.
“John Tippin,” the man with the smile said, holding out a hand to Jack. “I’ll apologize for my friend. He’s been under a lot of stress lately. He clerks for Judge Clark. The rest of us have it easy compared to Will. No one can kick your ass quite like Judge Clark.”
Jack played along and shook John’s hand, letting the guy talk.
“Is there something I can help you fine officers with?” John asked.
