Then she gave him a subtle nod. “That’s more like it, Detective Monaghan.”
THE MEDICAL EXAMINER HAD removed Silver’s body at six o’clock, and by seven the crime-scene technicians appeared to have breakfast in mind as they hurried to wrap up their work. She and Gavin had been on the scene for close to two hours now, and throughout Claudia had watched him. She couldn’t deny that she was impressed.
Gavin’s command of the scene had been almost immediate. As Claudia had spoken to the responding officer and waited for him to write up his report, Gavin had stood over Silver’s body for the longest time, both hands buried deep in the pockets of his trench coat. At first, Claudia had wondered if perhaps he’d forgotten his past work. Then she’d seen how carefully his gaze scrutinized the area, locking on details, assessing the surroundings, studying the position and condition of the body, until he’d finally moved on to talk to the ME at length.
Obviously a one-year stint chauffeuring the brass around had not robbed him of his experience. The investigation was in capable hands. And yet, if there had been any way for her to take the case, Claudia would have jumped at the opportunity.
From the moment she’d heard James Silver’s name, she’d wanted this one. She hadn’t lied to Gavin about knowing James Silver, about meeting him. It had been only twice, but Silver had been more than the “acquaintance” she’d told Gavin he was. He’d been a good friend of Frank’s, and his partner on patrol years ago in the Eastern District. It had been a decade since Silver had worn a uniform, yet his friendship with Frank had remained loyal.
She knew enough about James Silver to know he’d been a good man, a good cop, and a good friend to Frank. So good, that he was the one person who may never have been convinced by the evidence indicating Frank’s suicide. She hadn’t spoken with Silver since three weeks after Frank’s death. It had been a brief phone call, and they’d done nothing but argue: Claudia explaining the evidence, and Silver determined to dispute it.
Seeing Silver now—shot dead in his own office, lying behind his desk, his chair toppled, and his files and drawers rifled through as though his death was only an inconsequential result of a burglary gone awry—Claudia regretted that last contact with the PI.
Maybe she should have listened to his theories. But at the time, she’d been attempting to resign herself to the truth and come to terms with her loss of Frank. Silver’s disbelief had been more than she’d been able to bear. Now she would always wonder what theories Silver had concerning Frank’s death. And she would wonder if he’d ever given up.
“How’s the canvass going?” Gavin came to her side, flipping his notebook closed and lifting a hand to loosen his tie a notch.
“Nothing yet. Half the row homes across the street are vacant. And with the few that aren’t, it’s not looking as if anyone heard anything. We’ve got officers still knocking on doors, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
He nodded to where Silver’s body had lain. “So what do you think?”
“I’m sorry, Detective, that’s not how this works. You’re the primary. What do you think?”
He contemplated the scene again before speaking. “Well, I’d have to say that he was most likely seated at his desk when his attacker arrived. Perpetrator came through the door, probably already had his gun out, and fired as soon as Silver looked up. One bullet caught him in the left shoulder, and the second took him in the chest as he started to stand. Considering Silver’s background as a cop, he either knew his assailant and was surprised, or the shots were fired rapidly, giving him no time to take cover or return fire. His own weapon is still in his desk drawer.
“As for the disarray of the office,” Gavin went on, “it has the appearance of a random burglary, but my gut feeling is that our perpetrator was looking for something specific. Then again, until I find out what kind of stickler Silver was for organization, I can’t rule out the fact that some of this might be the usual state of his office. It doesn’t help that he didn’t have a secretary. Even if something was missing, we’re not likely to know about it.”
“You got a real whodunit here, Detective Monaghan,” Claudia told him, scanning the office again, hoping she’d missed some obscure yet crucial clue. “Hardly the kind of case you’d want to start with, I’d say.”
“What are you suggesting? That I can’t handle it? That I should give this case over to you and wait for the next one?”
Claudia shrugged casually. If she appeared too eager to take over his investigation, he was sure to balk. “All I’m saying is that for your first homicide in this city—your first case on the board—you’re better off with one that’s going to go down. This…I don’t know. It could be a tough one. You’ve got a dead PI. A former cop. He probably has a list of enemies longer than your arm, not to mention the fact that you’ve got zero witnesses so far.”
She dared to glance up then. Was it amusement she saw sparkle in those dark eyes?
“You really want this case, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily,” she lied. “It’s just probably not the ideal case to get your feet wet.”
His smile broadened. “Well, why don’t you let me worry about my own feet, okay?”
“Claudia.” Lori Tobin called to her, and Claudia was grateful for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how long she would have been able to hold Gavin’s penetrating stare.
She turned as Lori crossed the office to join them. The younger woman snapped off a pair of latex gloves and wadded them into one hand. She tucked a stray wisp from her dark ponytail behind one ear.
“How are you doing, Claudia?” As usual with Lori, the question was more than simple courtesy. Her sincerity and concern was punctuated with a hand on Claudia’s arm. The gesture reminded Claudia of that night ten months ago.
Lori had guided Claudia from Frank’s bedroom to the living room and then consoled her. She had even phoned a couple of times to check on her afterward. In fact, Claudia had almost admitted the truth about her relationship with Frank to Lori. In the end, though, she’d remained silent.
“Looks like you’ve got an interesting one here,” Lori said. “So far we’re not coming up with anything useful. We’ll probably need another hour, but I didn’t know if you wanted us to box up all the files and paperwork, as well.”
“No, we’ll take a look at everything here before—”
Gavin cleared his throat behind her.
“Actually,” Claudia corrected, “since this is Detective Monaghan’s investigation, you should ask him. I doubt you two have met. Lori Tobin, Gavin Monaghan.”
Claudia watched the technician’s face brighten somewhat as she gazed past Claudia’s shoulder and up at Gavin.
“So you’ve finally got yourself a partner.”
“It would appear that way,” Claudia answered.
“Good to meet you,” Gavin offered in his smooth voice as he shook the technician’s hand. “And I think Detective Parrish’s suggestion is fine. We’ll look through the files here and submit the relevant material ourselves.”
“Very good.” Lori nodded, and Claudia couldn’t help noticing how the woman’s gaze lingered on Gavin for a moment before she turned back to her work.
“So what now?” Gavin asked.
“Now? Now I suggest we head down to Jimmy’s for coffee and a bite to eat. We’re only going to be in the way here, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not willing to wade through any of this paperwork until I’ve had a good kick of caffeine. The techs will seal the office when they’re done, and then we can go through this mess