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Now he snapped, “I’ve learned from past experience not to talk to the cops. Sorry, not for any reason at all.”
“Seriously? That’s your move? I thought you went to college. The best you can come up with is that you don’t talk to cops?”
“Yeah. I need you to leave. Right now.”
I nodded and said, “Of course.” Then I laid down a warrant request form on the table next to the dog.
“What’s that?”
I said, “A copy of the search warrant request we’ll be filing for all your phone records covering the past two years. We’ll be compelling your telecommunications supplier to turn them over, or you can come talk to us formally at Manhattan North Homicide next week. That way you can also talk to the media at the same time.” I paused to let that sink in. I’ll admit I enjoyed the expression on his face. Then I hit him with “This is a homicide investigation. You don’t get to play the idealist who doesn’t stoop to talking to the police. You’re a damn wife beater. You’ve talked to the cops plenty of times.” Then I turned and started to march out of the examination room.
Before I was completely out of the room, Sloan said, “C’mon, wait a second. I can take a break and talk to you.”
I had to keep facing away from him so he wouldn’t see the broad smile on my face.
Chapter77
I LINGERED INthe doorway with my back to the veterinarian. Suddenly I understood why Al Pacino overacted in everything. It was fun. I could see where an audience would’ve made it even more entertaining for me.
I spun on my heel. Sloan tried to act cool and nonchalant by continuing to treat the bulldog. Finally, he looked up from the dog and said, “No need to let this get out of hand. I’ll talk to you.”
The vet kept petting the dog’s head and said, “Do you want to tell me what homicide you’re investigating?”
“In fact, it’s three homicides.”
“I have no idea how I could help you with your investigation. I don’t think I’ve ever even known anyone who was murdered.”
“Most people don’t. Then again, most people don’t call The Girlfriend Experience.” That had the effect I wanted. I noticed Sloan gripped the bulldog’s collar with his right hand. The bulldog twisted slightly, trying to look at the vet.
The veterinarian started to get nervous. I could see it from the sweat on his forehead to the tremor in his hands. He mumbled, “The what?”
“You just tried to kick me out of here for mentioning it. The Girlfriend Experience. You know, you called the number from your cell phone several times over the last two years.”
It looked like the dog was starting to pick up on the veterinarian’s nervousness as well. I heard a little whimper as Sloan stared in the dog’s ear with a light. It felt a lot more like he was pretending to examine the dog rather than actually examining him.
Then the vet looked up and said, “Oh, yeah, the dating number.”
“I’d like to dance around with you all day if I had time. But I have things to accomplish. You know as well as I do how many times you’ve called thatdatingnumber.” Then I added, “Another reason we want to talk to you is that your son attends the Wolfson Academy. One of the girls who went to a dance some months ago at the academy also ended up dead. It seems like two pretty big coincidences, Dr. Sloan.”
“Tommy graduated from Wolfson last year. I wouldn’t know anything about a girl who went to a dance there.” The veterinarian dropped the light onto the hard, tile floor. I could hear the lens crack. Sloan muttered, “Damn,” as he picked it up. Then he fumbled with the lock to a cabinet and started looking at tiny vials of medicine, preparing a syringe with the contents of one of them. He continued to avoid looking at me.
I wondered if I should keep going or wait until Terri Hernandez finished her phone call. It felt like I was on a roll, so I went with it.
“Where’s your son now, Dr. Sloan?”
“Philadelphia.”
“Is that where he’s attending college?”
Even with just a side view of his face, I could see the veterinarian looked absolutely crestfallen. “No, I’m afraid not. He’s actually in jail.” He looked back like he expected me to ask more questions. When I didn’t, he said, “Tommy, um, had a misunderstanding with a girl.”
“I wonder where he learned that.”
“It’s a bullshit rape charge. Typical police shenanigans.” He was definitely getting worked up. He knocked over an empty coffee cup sitting on the counter and ignored it as he returned to the dog’s side, once again taking hold of his collar.
I noticed him start to glance toward the door. I’d seen that look before. I asked him my next question. “Did you ever call The Girlfriend Experience from a different phone?”
The veterinarian spluttered and mumbled so badly I couldn’t understand him. He was working himself into a nervous breakdown. Or at least a pretty good imitation of one. I liked it.
