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“Jason,” Karan said. “Any update on the de Haan homicide?”
She sounded her normal crisp but cordial self. Jason responded cautiously, “Nothing so far. J.J. is following up with Bozwin PD. I should tell you the police chief is pretty unhappy with our presence on his turf.”
“Is that Amos Sandford?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve got a stack of messages on my desk from him.”
“I bet.”
“Well, if he doesn’t like us nosing around, he’d better hurry up and solve our complainant’s homicide.” She paused. “Look, Jason.” Karan’s tone changed, and he braced for the worst. “I und
erstand there’s some concern over the wrongful-death suit filed by the parents of the young man killed in Monday’s shootout.”
With everything else going on, Jason had practically forgotten about the lawsuit filed by Brody Stevens’s family.
“Yes,” he said automatically.
“This is not official. You did not hear it from me. However, I have it on good authority that the SIRG is going to deem the use of lethal force demonstrated by both you and Agent Russell valid.”
“That’s…a relief.”
It was. But he had never doubted it. By now he had been over the shooting dozens of times in his mind, and he still did not see that he and J.J. had had any other choice. He felt horrible about the Stevens kid, but he would have felt worse if they’d let him shoot an innocent bystander.
“You know how this works, so maybe you can explain it to your partner. If this does go to trial, you’ll be represented by the DOJ. There is no cause for panic, so could you please tell Agent Russell to stop phoning and emailing everyone in his company address book?”
Jason winced. “Yes, I’ll do that.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated. “Getting cleared by the SIRG is one thing. If Russell is having trouble coming to terms with his actions, you could remind him that counseling is available. In fact, whether he’s having trouble or not, that would be my recommendation if he were on my team.”
“I’ve suggested it to him.”
“I see. If you have concerns, you should broach them with George Potts. You’re relying on Russell to watch your back. That’s not something you want to make a mistake about.”
“No. Right. I understand.”
She said briskly, getting ready to end the call, “Right. Anything new to report?”
Sam had not told her. Jason absorbed the truth with a feeling of disbelief. And yet…had he really thought Sam would?
“No,” he said slowly. “Nothing new yet.”
“All right. Keep me apprised.”
Karan rang off. Jason stared at his phone, then returned to the archives.
Two hours later, in a letter dated September 1945, he finally found what he had been looking for—and dreading.
For the last few weeks since Deputy Chief Harley left, there has been nothing but tedious work and horrible Germans. There is absolutely no one to talk to in this gloomy intellectual misfit.
So that was that. Thompson didn’t have to come right out and say Emerson Harley had acted as his accomplice. Others would make that connection.
If they found this.
For one terrible, heart-thudding moment he considered ripping out the page.
But no. It was not in him to destroy a historical document. Not even an old newspaper. Hell, it was not even in him to hide it. The fact that the idea had even crossed his mind was shocking enough.
