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A lot of cops, she noted, tapping her badge before ducking under the barricade. That’s the way it was when word went out one of their own had gone down.
How many here, she wondered, would consider Garnet one of their own if they knew?
Janburry stepped out as she approached.
He had a strong, dark face, with deep brown skin stretched over hard bones, deep brown eyes. Cop’s eyes, she thought, and held out her hand. “Detective Janburry, again I appreciate you contacting me.”
“Lieutenant. It was your scene first. Dead junkie. My vic worked Illegals. One an
d one add up to two in my book.”
“Yeah, mine, too. Is it okay with you if I take a look before you fill me in?”
“Sure.”
“My field kit’s still in my vehicle. Can I borrow some Seal-It?”
He nodded, and she saw he understood she didn’t intend to step on his toes. “Hey, Delfino. Toss me some Seal.”
He caught the can, tossed it to her.
“What time did you get the dispatch?” she asked as she sealed hands and boots.
“It came in at three-fifty. My partner and I arrived on scene at oh four hundred. Uniforms doing a drive-by saw the broken seal—the door open—and investigated. They’d secured the scene by the time we got here.”
“That’s good.”
She stepped inside, into the glare of cop lights.
He hadn’t gotten very far, Eve noted. Maybe six paces inside the door. He’d fallen on his back, so he lay faceup, arms and legs sprawled out. The long slice across his throat had pumped out blood that soaked his jacket, shirt, spread a lake on the dirty floor.
She noted the knife and sheath on his belt, and the lack of a sidearm. His penlight lay a few feet away, its beam still shining like a little white eye.
“What have you got so far?” she asked Janburry.
“No money, no ID. We ran his prints and identified him. My partner—Delfino!”
His partner, a small, spare woman with curly dark hair fought back in a tail, moved to join them. She nodded at Eve.
“Detective Delfino ran the vic while I worked the body.”
In a rhythm that told Eve they worked well together, Delfino picked it up. “I got his squad, his CO, and he just got a rip this afternoon. Ordered by you, Lieutenant.”
“That’s correct. Your vic didn’t like my investigative style on Rickie Keener. Keener was Garnet’s LT’s weasel, and it was necessary for me to . . . discuss that relationship and any cases involving my vic with Lieutenant Oberman. However, Garnet and his partner took it upon themselves to access my vic’s flop, without authority. On learning this I had a further discussion with Lieutenant Oberman and Detectives Garnet and Bix. During the discussion, Garnet used abusive language, made threats, and even after being warned, made physical contact.”
Delfino glanced down at Garnet. “That wasn’t very bright.”
“It was less bright for him to accost me in front of my home tonight. You may suspect that the facial bruises on your victim are a result of an altercation with his killer. I put them there.”
Janburry pursed his lips, ever so slightly. “Is that so?”
“Garnet laid in wait, blocked the entrance to my home with his vehicle. He subsequently threatened me again, again made physical contact. I reciprocated that. At that time, Garnet drew his weapon—one which has proven to be unregistered. I disarmed him. All of this is on record, both on my home security and my recorder, which I engaged before exiting my vehicle. And all this was reported, immediately, to Commander Whitney. I’ll make sure you get copies of everything for your file.”
“That’d be good.”
“Lieutenant.” Delfino gave her a clear-eyed stare. “I have to say, if some guy tries to bust on me twice in one day, draws down on me, I might want to do more than give him a black eye.”
“I can give you a statement on my whereabouts at TOD, if you tell me when TOD was.”
