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Chapter 67
With one annoyingphone call, Bobby Patel prolonged a day that already felt like it had gone on forever. He was in the lobby waiting for me. I was surprised to see a trickle of sunlight leaking through the giant windows.
Bobby sat on one of the large sofas, looking out on the busy entrance to the hotel. He was still dressed in a dark suit like a junior banker.
Bobby stood as soon as he saw me and extended his hand. The first words out of his mouth were “Sorry. I didn’t like how we left things.”
“You mean you severing all contact with me?”
“That’s a brutal assessment. But I have to keep you at arm’s length. I can’t risk my career. It’s too hard for someone like me to move up in the FBI. I can’t give them any easy excuses.”
I nodded, noncommittal. I understood his reasoning, even if I didn’t agree with it. I asked about my main concern. “What did they do with our homeless suspect, Mr. Hagensick?”
“No charges. But he couldn’t respond to any questions, so they placed him in a psychiatric ward for a seventy-two-hour observation. He seemed quite happy to have a bed and food. Last I heard he hadn’t said anything but ‘Yep’ since they’d found him.”
I chuckled. “I respect commitment in almost any form.” I motioned for Bobby to sit on the couch with me. I turned to him and said, “What really brought you over here to see me? I know you weren’t worried about my feelings.”
He paused and then sputtered. Finally, he let out a sigh and said, “The FBI has several theories and even a suspect.”
I interrupted him. “Whoa, a good suspect?”
Bobby shrugged. “I’m not part of that team. I don’t know the specifics.”
“Tell me what you do know.”
“They’ve got surveillance on a house painter. He worked in the Steinberg house for almost six days.”
“So someone’s admitting that Emily visited the Steinberg house? It was beginning to feel like the FBI didn’t realize the Steinbergs existed.”
Bobby frowned. “Do you want to listen to why I’m here or bitch about the FBI?”
I nodded and mumbled, “Sorry.”
Bobby waited a moment to ensure I was properly contrite. Then he said, “This house painter is a convicted sex offender and may have been in the area where Emily disappeared. They haven’t arrested him. They’re just trying to figure out if he has any hidden apartments or anything like that.”
“Why tell me?”
“Because my supervisor already gave me something else to look at in addition to Emily’s murder. That means the bosses are either losing faith that we’ll be able to solve the case or they’re losing faith in me. I want to make sure there’s someone out there looking out for Emily. Sometimes I wonder if the Bureau is afraid of what it might find out if it looks too deep.”
I thought about all of this. Finally, I looked at Bobby and said, “The surveillance of the painter feels more like a desperation move.”
“I agree, but what else do we have? Do you have some secret insight you haven’t shared with any of us?”
I said, “Just this afternoon I thought about looking at the case a different way. What if we considered Michelle Luna tied to the case after all? Maybe there’s something from her investigation we could use on this one.”
Bobby shrugged. “At this point I’m not sure what to do. But I don’t want to be the guy who ruins your career. I’m also here to warn you.”
“About what?”
“A couple of the supervisors at the off-site office were asking questions and figured out who you are. I heard the special agent in charge was going to make a call to your police commissioner. You might want to keep that in the back of your mind.”
I let out a laugh. “After the threats I’ve already gotten, I’m not terribly afraid of the FBI boss calling someone at the NYPD.”
Bobby stuck out his hand. “Still proud to be working with you.”
