Polly Iyer - Diana Racine 03 - Backlash (13 page)

D
iana
couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that plagued her since leaving the district. She tried to nap, but the vision of the two men intertwined in the grave kept surfacing until she got up and made a pot of coffee. She had trained herself over the years to put disturbing images out of her mind, but this time she couldn’t, and she didn’t know why.

She wondered if she could convince Lucier to let her have one more session, this time with Chenault’s body. She hadn’t wanted to know whether she read Chenault’s cap or Alba’s, but she wanted to know now. She called Lucier.

“Hey, have you rested any?” he asked.

“Not really. Too many things going on in my head.” She paused, knowing how Lucier would react to what she said next. “Can you arrange for me to go to the morgue to read Chenault?”

Silence hung on the line before Lucier said, “What for? You led us to him, why do you want to read him again.”

“Because I didn’t read him, did I? That was Alba’s cap, wasn’t it?”

Again, silence. “How did you know?”

“I was guessing. It’s just ―”

“What?”

“I don’t know, but I have an aching feeling I can learn more from Chenault, even dead. Remember, Keys was dead too, and I saw his last image.”

“You think you’ll see who killed him?”

“How can I say, Ernie? All I know is there’s more. I should have gone with you to the cemetery.”

“Glad you didn’t. Cash and I are all over the front page of the
Picayune’s
online newspaper.”

“What? How did that happen?” She listened while Lucier explained his and Captain Craven’s theory. “Great. Little moles everywhere. Damn Jake Griffin.”

“Exactly. What would really help is if you could zero in on the moles.”

“Not likely unless someone passes the info to me, and I doubt they’ll get anywhere near me. Besides, the leaker could be anyone in the entire department.” She let her words settle. “So, about the other thing? Can you get me to the morgue?”

“I’ll run your idea by the captain. He was all over me for not telling him what I was doing. Can’t say I blame him, but I won’t jump his head again. I’ll call you back.”

She took her cell phone into the bathroom to wait for Lucier’s callback while she showered, struggling to bury the ominous feeling that had left her unsettled. Times like these she cursed her so-called gift. She’d always reacted to touching something or someone, but lately, she received residual sensations, as if her reading or vision wasn’t complete. Was there really more she could glean from Chenault’s dead body?

* * * * *

L
ucier
asked Lissie Howard, the captain’s secretary, if he could see Craven. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again, going rogue. He smiled inwardly at the phrase made popular lately in the political arena. He’d never been that kind of cop. He’d always gone by the book, steady, dependable, methodical. Nothing flashy. Now he was the boyfriend of someone followed by the paparazzi, fans, and psychic groupies. He sighed. He’d have to learn to live with his new notoriety, because Diana was in his life to stay.

The captain waved him inside. Lucier felt a slight chill in the air. Was it his imagination? After the normal pleasantries, he explained Diana’s request.

“What does she think she’ll learn from Chenault?” Craven asked. “He’s dead.”

“So was Moran, and her vision led us to a murder.”

“But no murderer.”

“Unless Chenault is our man.”

“You think cops are involved, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, but I can’t prove a connection. I want your permission to interview some of Chenault’s card-playing buddies.”

“This is your investigation.”

Lucier hesitated. “I’m getting mixed signals, Captain. I’m to report everything to you, but it’s my investigation. Which is it?”

“Your investigation, but I appreciate a head’s up. As far as interviewing cops, keep the interrogations off the record until you have something substantial. I don’t want anyone to think you have such a hard-on for solving this case that you’re targeting fellow cops.”

“Understood. I’ll call Charlie Cothran and have him ready Chenault’s body.”

“Good luck,” Craven said. “Are you picking up Ms. Racine?”

“Yes. She’s exhausted. I don’t want her driving.”

“Little lady’s got you on a short leash, hasn’t she? Never thought I’d see this, but now I remember you were protective of your wife.”

“Relationships are a two-way street, Jack. Nikki took care of me. So does Diana.”

“She’s pulled you out of the depths, made you more adventurous. You’ve always been so ―”

“Plodding?”

Craven didn’t smile, and his focus was unsettling. “No. Determined. Persistent. Different than plodding. Both plusses in a cop.”

“Okay, then. Let’s see what she comes up with.”

“Keep anything she finds quiet until you speak to me, okay? Keep Cothran out of the room. If other cops are involved, I don’t want anything leaking in this sieve of a parish.”

“Right. I didn’t even tell my team what we were going to do.”

“Excellent. Speaking of sieve, what are you doing about Jake Griffin?”

“I’ll have Beecher pick him up, and when I return from the morgue, I’ll interview him personally.”

“Good.”

By the time Lucier got back to his office, Beecher and Halloran had returned. They reported on the homicide, and Lucier said he had some errands to take care of and would be back in an hour or two. He’d keep everything quiet for now. Information was leaking out of all the districts like a drippy faucet. There could even be a bug planted somewhere, though he and Cash eliminated his office. He made a mental note to sweep the squad room, though he doubted they’d find anything.

He pulled Beecher aside. “Pick up Jake Griffin. The captain thinks, and I agree, that he’s got spies in all our districts to get a jump on whatever’s going on. If that’s the case, he’s interfering with police investigations, and he can cool his heels in a holding cell until we get more information, or maybe we’ll charge him with obstruction.”

“Yes!” Beecher said, pumping his fist. “He’s a slimy little insect. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

“Be back as soon as I can.”

Lucier got to his car and called Charlie Cothran to make Chenault’s body available, then drove to Diana’s house, fifteen minutes from the district.

They had agreed to live apart to see if their relationship survived their intense beginning. They were still together, still in love, and lately he’d been thinking about making their living arrangement permanent, though he hadn’t brought up the subject.

Diana was watering her plants in the front yard when he arrived. She shut off the water, replaced the hose on the hook, and grabbed her purse, hanging on the door. Lucier never tired of looking at her. He’d seen photos of her when she was a child with the same mass of curly black hair, and at thirty-three, she still looked like a teenager.

“What did Captain Craven say?”

“Well, I’m here.”

Smiling, she got in his car. “He probably thinks I’m a whackjob, and he’s not the only one.”

“I know you’re not, and the rest of them can go ―”

“Careful.”

Then he explained what the captain thought about Jake Griffin and his planted moles.

“Sounds like Jake. He or his photographer can’t follow everyone, so he must have you on top of the list.”

“Because of you. You’re the real story. Anything about Diana Racine is big news. Sorry, babe. Guess you can’t stay out of the limelight, no matter that you retired.”

“We’re a pair made for the news, and the news follows us around.”

“That it does.”

“What happens to whoever’s feeding him information?”

“Depending on the sensitivity of the case, they’d be fired, at least. If the info messed up an investigation, they’d be brought up on charges.”

“Knowing Jake, he’s paying them a pittance, certainly nothing worth their jobs. And he’ll rat them out as quick as you can say jail sentence.”

“You’ve just given me an idea, but I’ll wait until we get to the coroner’s office.”

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to a nondescript one-story concrete building on MLK Boulevard.

“This isn’t what I expected,” Diana said. “I thought the morgue would be in a hospital.”

“Used to be in the courthouse, but the building flooded during Katrina. Autopsies have been performed here since. We need a new facility, but there’s a thing called funds standing in the way.”

He helped Diana out of the car. “Before we go inside, I want to call the captain.” He dialed and was put through immediately. “I have an idea, Captain. Rather than pull in Griffin, what if we send a memo to every district commander, cop, dispatcher, secretary, etc. that we’re initiating an investigation into who’s leaking confidential police information to the media, and that anyone found guilty will be terminated immediately? Also, the identities of anyone with information on the leaks will be confidential.”

A long moment passed before Craven said, “Good idea. I’ll send the request through the chain of command. Considering the leaks have affected almost every district, I’m sure they’ll be on board.”

“Well, that was clever,” Diana said. “Much better than pulling in Griffin to hear his denials.”

“Not only denials, but I don’t want this to become a cause célèbre for First Amendment rights while we’re in the middle of this investigation.” He tapped a number into his cellphone. “Better stop Sam from picking up the little weasel.” He made the call and clicked off. “Caught him just in time.”

They went inside the building. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“Ernie, we’re here. If you had reservations, why didn’t you say something before now?”

“I’ll always have reservations when you’re doing this. I worry about you.”

“I’ll be fine. Keeping the gnawing feeling I had would be far more detrimental to my health than finding the closure one more reading might accomplish. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go. Cothran said he’d have Chenault ready. The captain doesn’t want him in the room in case you find out something we need to keep quiet.”

“Fine.”

* * * * *

D
iana
had been inside autopsy rooms before. The smells, no matter how heavily deodorized, hit her sensory memory like a gust of poison air. She’d heard cops during her childhood say death was an odor they’d never forget. Right now, she didn’t want to forget. She wanted to channel everything about Chenault’s body into her senses.

“Ms. Racine,” Cothran said.

“Good to see you again, Doctor.”

Cothran led the way to a room. He opened the door and stepped aside. “The deceased is a bit worse for wear. I hope you can handle seeing him.”

“I’m sure I’ve seen worse.”

“Then I’ll leave you two alone. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” Lucier said. When Cothran left, Lucier took her by the shoulders. “I never realized until now what horrors you must have seen as a kid. I figured you led the authorities to the body, and you’d be taken away.”

“No matter how hard my parents tried to protect me, I saw when a body lay unprotected, some after months. Some after being ravaged by animals. Yes, I’m sure I’ve seen worse than I’ll see now.”

Lucier squeezed her shoulder.

Chenault was covered with a sheet on a gurney in a cold, antiseptic room, unlike her first image of Keys Moran lying on the floor of his small, warm house. She stood quietly for a minute, then gave Lucier the nod to remove the sheet.

She’d never seen a body after an autopsy, but she’d seen pictures.

A dead body is a dead body, Diana.

If a spirit remained, which she wasn’t sure she believed, its essence was somewhere else now, in some other dimension.

She moved forward and placed her fingertips on Chenault’s chest, away from the sutured incisions, and closed her eyes, letting the moment take her to that place where she hovered between her two worlds. Darkness descended like a fog until an image emerged, incandescent and surreal.

“Chenault is with another guy I don’t recognize. He sees two figures in the shadows, but, but I can’t make out their faces. I feel Chenault’s anguish.” She strained to see the full picture. “He’s surprised, hesitates, and moves to get his weapon.” Diana backed away. Her hand pressed hard against her chest as pain stabbed her. A thousand shattered images burst before her eyes.

“’Why?’ Chenault calls out.”

She struggled to remain upright, but her legs weakened. Something around her middle kept her from falling, and the image of Chenault, the gun, and the dark, murky sensation disappeared from her consciousness.

“Diana, can you hear me? Diana. Damn, I shouldn’t have agreed to this.”

Lucier’s voice came from a place far away, but she heard every word. Still, she couldn’t quite come back, though she knew where she was. A soft moan escaped her throat.