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“No, sir. I fully intend to interview him formally, here, at Central. I believe that reconnection may have been part of the motive, and the timing. I don’t believe he himself murdered Coltraine, or ordered it done. In fact, I believe had he known about the hit, he’d have taken steps to stop it, or would have warned her.”
She paused a moment, working out the wording. “I believe she was important to him, just not the most important. He took steps to keep his connection to her quiet, as much for himself, his reputation as for hers. Her death brought that connection to the surface. He knew it would. He expected cops at his door once he learned she’d been killed.”
“Why would he care if his connection to her became known, while they had their affair or after?”
“Pride and caution. It’s just not good business for a man in his position, with his interests, to have a cop as his lover. For him, business comes first, and his reputation is an essential element of that business. Her murder may have been an attempt to frame him, to cast suspicion on him, thereby damaging his reputation. His public businessman rep, and his underground rep.”
“Using her as a weapon against him.”
“Yes, sir. Because of who he is—maybe more because of who his father is—his prior affair with Coltraine puts him at the top of the suspect list on her murder. Bad for business,” Eve added.
“You’re leaning toward a competitor?”
“Possibly. She may have been killed because she was viewed as a weakness in him. She was, essentially, the only misstep he’s made professionally. Whether she was in his pocket or not—and I don’t think she was, given her profile and record, her background and personality. If she was, then he, in turn, was foolish to develop and maintain an intimate relationship with one of his tools.”
She hesitated a moment, then decided to speak frankly. “I’m aware there is speculation in some corners that I’m Roarke’s tool. Or vice versa. In point of fact, me being a cop is more problematic for him than not. And, well, vice versa. For Alex Ricker, living with a cop, maintaining an intimate relationship and a professional one? It’s asking for trouble, and he doesn’t.”
“So you’ve concluded Coltraine may have been killed because of Alex Ricker, but not by or for him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“A competitor, an underling. That’s a wide field, Lieutenant.”
“I think it may be more narrow, Commander. According to the record, Alex Ricker visited his father on Omega only once in the last eight months. There have been no communications between them, or, in fact, between Max Ricker and anyone since he began his multiple life sentences.”
“No communications, whatsoever, to or from the penal colony?”
“According to the records, no, sir.”
Whitney’s smile was tight and hard. “How stupid does he think we are?”
“Max Ricker has nothing but disdain for cops, and in the last few years his ego far overshadowed his judgment. That’s one of the reasons he’s in a cage. Since we’re not stupid, I’ve asked Captain Feeney to send a couple of e-men to Omega to check the veracity of those records.”
“When do they leave?”
“Today, sir. I hope within the hour. We could speed the process by requesting the civilian consultant make transportation available to the department for this purpose.”
The faintest glint of humor lit Whitney’s eyes. “I’ll leave the arrangements to you, Lieutenant. I have some connections on Omega. I’ll use them to speed the process once they’re on colony.”
He sat back, humor gone, drummed his fingers. “Not a competitor. Not an underling. You believe Max Ricker ordered the hit on Detective Coltraine.”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“To strike at his son, or to protect him?”
“That’s a question I hope to answer when I get Alex Ricker in the box.”
While Eve reported to her commander, Roarke stepped out of the car, nodded to his driver. Alex Ricker did the same. The steel blue water lapped the sand of Coney Island as the men approached each other.
Neutral ground, Roarke mused, didn’t have to be somber, staid, and serious. Business of this nature didn’t require the ambience of dank back rooms or vacant lots. He enjoyed the idea of having this meeting on the grounds of the revitalized amusement center. The reconstructed Ferris wheel symbolized something to his mind.
Life was full of circles.
Though it was far too early in the day for that ride or any of the others to spin and play, people walked the beach, slurped flavored coffees or sugar drinks as they strolled the boardwalk.
At sea, both pleasure boats and busy ferries sailed.
The ocean breeze flipped at the hem of his lightweight overcoat while he lifted his arms and allowed Alex’s man to scan him for weapons and bugs. And his performed the same task on Alex.
