Jackson, always trim, always well dressed, hated noise, disliked people who tried to yell at
him to get a point across, and despite his deep, resonant voice, was known for his ability to bawl people out in a whisper.
“Do you trust Hagen?” Joe asked.
“I’ve never met him.” The commander paused. “But I told you I knew Marie Ferguson’s father, William Howe.” He leaned back in his chair and pointed at one of
the black and white photographs on the wall to his left. “That’s him – the tall guy in the hat. If he were alive today, Al Hagen might have been boiled in oil by now.”
“The folks at Hagen are nervous of Sean Ferguson. You know he’s a freelance journalist?”
“Can’t say I blame them.”
“Maybe not, not if they’re scared he might write a piece that’s going to give thousands of patients heart attacks.” Joe was grim. “But I had the distinct feeling
when I met Howard Leary – that’s the Head of Production – that he, for one, was more interested in covering his backside.”
“I take it you didn’t care for Leary.”
“I thought he was an arrogant asshole, but I think he’s probably right about keeping it away from the press for as long as possible.”
“If you’re right about this,” Jackson said, “Leary’s a prime suspect.”
“Along with everybody else at Hagen Pacing.” Joe paused. “So what’s the plan, Commander? Do we bring in Bomb and Arson and close the place down?”
“Hagen agrees with Schwartz – says they need time.”
Joe shrugged. “I guess we don’t have much choice if we want to keep things under wraps. And they are the experts.” He thought. “How about we give them the rest of the
weekend, but start moving in, discreetly? Give them all the help we can and do some checking of our own.”
“What do you need?” the commander asked.
“I’d like to wander around the factory the rest of today and tomorrow. Then from Monday, I think two of us should go in – just two – keep it tight. Go in undercover, make
out we’re doing some kind of time-and-motion study.” Joe pondered. “Lipman would make a pretty good scientist-type, if she’s free.”
Jackson nodded. “I’ll consult with Chief Hankin, then call Hagen and set it up.”
“On a strictly need-to-know basis,” Joe added. “Only those who already know what’s going on.” He glanced down at his notes. “Leary, Olivia Ashcroft and
Schwartz.” He paused again. “I liked Schwartz. He was too busy to talk to me, but he looked haunted, like this thing was killing him.”
“What about Ashcroft?”
“I didn’t meet her, she was home with her family.”
“What did you make of Hagen?”
“He reminded me of one of my college professors.” Joe considered. “First impression, I thought he cared – not necessarily just because of the business.”
The commander looked intently at the lieutenant. “This could just be a terrible accident, you know, Duval.”
“I hope it is.”
“But you’ve got one of your damned hunches, haven’t you?”
Joe grinned as he got to his feet.
“Thank God I’m not infallible,” he said.
Chapter Nine
Sunday, January 10th
After Chris Webber had come to take Katy to school on Friday morning, Lally had found her house uncommonly quiet. He had arrived early to have time for a word with his daughter
before they left, and Lally had found their conversation almost unbearably poignant.
“Mommy’s fine this morning, sweetheart,” Chris had begun. “But we both know that doesn’t mean she isn’t sick any more. And I think the time has come for us to
make sure that she gets the treatment she needs to make her better.”
“But Mommy isn’t really sick, Daddy, is she?” Katy said. “It only happens when she’s had too much to drink.”
“But that’s just it, Katy, that
is
the illness.” Chris’s eyes were distressed. “We’ve talked about it before, remember? The different ways too much
liquor affects
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia