“I do?” Colin asked, not entirely certain that she was on the level. He was aware of how badly some of his fellow detectives had been portrayed to the public. He wanted no part of that.
“Maybe this’ll convince you,” she said, trying again. “Your CO signed off on this because he knew this would create a positive image of the Bedford PD. And my station manager thought this would be a feel-good piece that would really go over well, especially since those pieces are so few and far between.”
“Well, I guess I’m sold, then,” Colin told her. What he was sold on, he admitted, was the way her clear blue eyes seemed to sparkle as she tried to convince him. That alone was worth the price of admission.
Ellie smiled at the detective.
“Good.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Jerry had the camera in position. He did. “All right, just tell me what happened.”
“Tell you?” he asked, thinking he was supposed to talk to the camera.
“Just me,” she assured him. “Talk to me.”
That made it easier. She had a face that invited conversation—as well as a number of other stray thoughts. “I’d just dropped off my niece, Heather, at school—”
Her ears instantly perked up. “Is that a usual thing for you?” The man was beginning to sound like a Boy Scout.
“It is ever since I became her sole guardian,” Colin answered matter-of-factly.
As a human-interest story, this was just getting better and better, Ellie thought. She made a mental note to ask him more questions regarding that situation so she could annotate her commentary once the film had been edited.
“Go on,” she urged.
“An APB came on over the two-way radio about a B and E that had just gone down less than three blocks away from Heather’s school,” he said.
She wanted to get back to that, but first she wanted him to explain some of the terminology he’d just used. “An APB and B and E?” she asked, waiting for him to spell the words out. She knew what he was saying, but the audience might not.
“All points bulletin and breaking and entering,” the detective explained. He was so used to those terms and others being tossed around that it didn’t occur to him that someone might not know what he was talking about.
“Okay. Go on,” she said, smiling at him.
It was a smile he caught himself thinking he could follow to the ends of the earth.
But not anymore, remember?
“The homeowner called 911 to say that he’d heard a noise and when he woke up, he saw a man running across his lawn carrying off his painting. Apparently, the thief had broken in while the guy was still asleep.”
She nodded, focusing on the image of a thief dashing across a lawn with a stolen painting clutched in his hands.
“Definitely not something you see every day,” Ellie agreed drolly.
Colin nodded. “That’s when I saw this guy driving a van that matched the description dispatch had put out. So I followed him. Turns out it wasn’t all that far away,” he added. “He took the painting to a local storage unit. As I watched him, he stashed the painting he’d just stolen in an ordinary storage unit. When I came up behind him, I saw that he had what amounted to fifteen other paintings inside the unit.” Colin paused in his narrative to tell her, “There’ve been a rash of paintings stolen in Bedford in the last eighteen months.”
She looked at him, waiting for more. When he didn’t continue or make any attempt to brag, she asked, “And the paintings that you saw, were they the ones that had been stolen?”
He nodded. “One and the same.”
She tried to get more details. “Was this guy part of a gang?”
“Not from anything that I could ascertain,” Colin told her. “When I questioned him, he said he had taken all the paintings. I think he was telling the truth.”
“And he hadn’t tried to fence any of them?” she asked. It didn’t seem possible.
Colin laughed softly. “Turns out that the guy just likes works of art and he didn’t have the money to buy any of his own, so he came up with this plan.” Colin shrugged. “Takes all kinds,” was his comment.
It certainly did, Ellie silently agreed. “That almost sounds too easy,” she said.
“I know,” he replied. “But sometimes everything just falls into place at the right time and the right way. It doesn’t happen often,” Colin allowed. “But it does happen.”
“Well, apparently, it did for you,” Ellie observed. She all but expected to see the detective kick the dust and murmur, “Ah, shucks.”
Colin turned out not to be as clueless as she momentarily thought him to be. A knowing smile curved his mouth as he guessed, “You’re not convinced.”
The smile came of its own volition. “It’s my doubting-Thomas side,” she admitted.
“We’re checking the guy for priors,” Colin told her. “Right now he’s clean, but we’re not finished. I could give you an update later,” he offered.
“I would appreciate it,” she said, then turned toward something that she knew would interest her viewers. “Tell me more about your niece. How long have you been her guardian?”
The question caught him off guard. They were just talking about the thief’s lack of priors. “Is that important?” he asked, unclear as to why it should be, especially in this context.
If nothing else, Ellie knew her audience and how to make a story appealing to them. “The viewers love to hear details like that about selfless heroes.”
“I’m not a hero and I’m not selfless,” he told her, his manner saying that he wasn’t just mouthing platitudes or what he felt passed for just the right amount of humility. His tone told Ellie that this detective was being straightforward with her, which she had to admit impressed her. He could have just as easily allowed her to build him up without protest.
“Why don’t we leave that to the viewer to decide?” Ellie suggested. “Now, how long have you been your niece’s guardian?”
“Six months,” he told her.
Again, he didn’t elaborate or tell her any more than the bare minimum. Was he being modest? Or was that a highly developed sense of privacy taking over?
Either way, her job was to push the boundaries a little in order to get him to open up. “What happened?” she asked.
He didn’t look annoyed, but he did ask, “Is this really necessary?”
She was honest with him, sensing that the detective would appreciate it. “For the story? No. This is just me asking.”
That brought up another host of questions in his mind. “Why?”
She wanted him to trust her. She needed to know the kind of man her husband had spent the last seconds of his life with. Only then would she know if he had done all that he could to try to save Brett. She was aware that he had probably said he had and filled out a report to that effect, but she wanted to be convinced.
“Shut off the camera, Jerry,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at her cameraman. “We’ve got our story. I’ll meet you at the van.”
Jerry looked