Free Dead Connection by Alafair Burke
Authors: Alafair Burke
getting cross-examined?”
“Because I know what FirstDate’s attorneys are going to argue when their business is ruined and they sue everyone involved with this subpoena. Please tell me that you have something else. What did the department’s computer wizards say?”
“That I should get in the back of the line. Besides, what do you expect them to tell us? That the Internet’s a wonderful thing but with potential dangers? That bad people can use it to commit all sorts of nefarious deeds that we’re not sophisticated enough to track?” Flann’s tone was growing increasingly exasperated. “You didn’t sound concerned about any of this yesterday. You said to dot the i’s and cross the t’s, then come down here for our subpoena.”
Yong sighed and placed one hand on top of his shiny black hair. “That was before the note on my chair.”
“I was wondering when you’d get back to that.”
“The note was from my unit supervisor, and the message apparently came down from above — I can’t authorize a subpoena until you have a suspect.”
Flann threw him a skeptical look. “You’re kidding me, right? Did you miss the part where I explained that the reason we need a subpoena is to help us identify a suspect?”
Yong shook his head. The smile was gone now. “I know. It’s bullshit. It sucks. It ain’t right. But having me as your poker partner’s not doing you any good on this one. I’m just a cog in the machine — a tiny, powerless cog who knows what a note left on my chair during trial means. I’m sorry, man. If I’d had time, I would have called to save you the trip.”
“How would that kind of message hit your supervisor so fast?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve pissed off someone with some serious suck.”
“Your office has taken off bigger fish than the president of some fledgling Internet company.”
Yong looked just as stymied as McIlroy. “I thought the same thing. I did a quick Google search to see if Stern was a real player, but I turned up five other guys named Mark Stern before I hit anything on him. I only had so much time to snoop — given this.” He gestured to the courtroom. “If it’s any consolation, when my trial’s out, I can sniff around and see where the strings were pulled in my office.”
“And then what?”
“And then you’ll know.”
“We need those names. We need to know who contacted our vics before they died. That’s what we need.”
“Then you need to find someone above you to go to someone above me, or you need to find another way to get a suspect.”
“And what if I’m convinced that the only way to get a suspect is to know what FirstDate knows?”
“I guess you’d have to find another way to get that information. Maybe an insider to do it for you, without the government’s hands on it. But I’m not the one who said that.”
The judge reclaimed his seat at the bench, and Flann lowered his voice to a whisper.
“What happens if I call a contact in the press? Let the story leak — the possible connection between the two women, and a company that won’t help the city’s finest catch a killer.”
“I doubt any reporter would run it with what you’ve got — even for you. And if they did, Mark Stern would probably sue the paper, along with the police department and the two of you. I’d strongly recommend against it,” Yong deadpanned. The judge cleared his throat and threw them an impatient look. “Sorry, guys. Gotta go.”
Following Flann out of the courtoom, Ellie was so dejected at leaving without a subpoena that she barely noticed the man sitting in the back row. She assumed he was there for Yong’s case — a friend or relative of the defendant.
She was wrong.
Charlie Dixon was there to make sure of two things. First, that Jeffrey Yong had gotten the message. And second, that the message made its way to the city detectives asking questions about FirstDate. Dixon couldn’t make out the entire conversation, but he noticed
“Because I know what FirstDate’s attorneys are going to argue when their business is ruined and they sue everyone involved with this subpoena. Please tell me that you have something else. What did the department’s computer wizards say?”
“That I should get in the back of the line. Besides, what do you expect them to tell us? That the Internet’s a wonderful thing but with potential dangers? That bad people can use it to commit all sorts of nefarious deeds that we’re not sophisticated enough to track?” Flann’s tone was growing increasingly exasperated. “You didn’t sound concerned about any of this yesterday. You said to dot the i’s and cross the t’s, then come down here for our subpoena.”
Yong sighed and placed one hand on top of his shiny black hair. “That was before the note on my chair.”
“I was wondering when you’d get back to that.”
“The note was from my unit supervisor, and the message apparently came down from above — I can’t authorize a subpoena until you have a suspect.”
Flann threw him a skeptical look. “You’re kidding me, right? Did you miss the part where I explained that the reason we need a subpoena is to help us identify a suspect?”
Yong shook his head. The smile was gone now. “I know. It’s bullshit. It sucks. It ain’t right. But having me as your poker partner’s not doing you any good on this one. I’m just a cog in the machine — a tiny, powerless cog who knows what a note left on my chair during trial means. I’m sorry, man. If I’d had time, I would have called to save you the trip.”
“How would that kind of message hit your supervisor so fast?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve pissed off someone with some serious suck.”
“Your office has taken off bigger fish than the president of some fledgling Internet company.”
Yong looked just as stymied as McIlroy. “I thought the same thing. I did a quick Google search to see if Stern was a real player, but I turned up five other guys named Mark Stern before I hit anything on him. I only had so much time to snoop — given this.” He gestured to the courtroom. “If it’s any consolation, when my trial’s out, I can sniff around and see where the strings were pulled in my office.”
“And then what?”
“And then you’ll know.”
“We need those names. We need to know who contacted our vics before they died. That’s what we need.”
“Then you need to find someone above you to go to someone above me, or you need to find another way to get a suspect.”
“And what if I’m convinced that the only way to get a suspect is to know what FirstDate knows?”
“I guess you’d have to find another way to get that information. Maybe an insider to do it for you, without the government’s hands on it. But I’m not the one who said that.”
The judge reclaimed his seat at the bench, and Flann lowered his voice to a whisper.
“What happens if I call a contact in the press? Let the story leak — the possible connection between the two women, and a company that won’t help the city’s finest catch a killer.”
“I doubt any reporter would run it with what you’ve got — even for you. And if they did, Mark Stern would probably sue the paper, along with the police department and the two of you. I’d strongly recommend against it,” Yong deadpanned. The judge cleared his throat and threw them an impatient look. “Sorry, guys. Gotta go.”
Following Flann out of the courtoom, Ellie was so dejected at leaving without a subpoena that she barely noticed the man sitting in the back row. She assumed he was there for Yong’s case — a friend or relative of the defendant.
She was wrong.
Charlie Dixon was there to make sure of two things. First, that Jeffrey Yong had gotten the message. And second, that the message made its way to the city detectives asking questions about FirstDate. Dixon couldn’t make out the entire conversation, but he noticed