right?” Daniels said.
“That’s right.”
“Bill, let me get this straight, you do have a client?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Bill, that could be why you’re here, but the thought did occur to me that you might be freelancing. You know, trying to use these murders to get your name in the papers. It’s not something like that, is it, Bill?”
“I have a client.”
“You do, huh? Well, Bill, maybe you can tell me why someone would hire you—excuse me, Bill, am I saying something amusing?”
“No, not really—just the way you’ve been overusing my first name. It’s a good technique, and if used properly, can really unnerve the hell out of a suspect. When I was on the force I used it frequently during interrogations, except maybe with a little more subtlety.”
“You were on the force?”
“Ten years. The last six as a detective.”
“Where was this?”
“Cambridge, Massachusetts.”
“You handled homicide cases?”
“I worked my share of them.”
Daniels scratched his jaw as he considered this. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m afraid you wasted a trip here,” he said.
“Why’s that?”
“I can’t discuss this investigation with you or anyone else.” Daniels breathed in deeply as he filled his lungs, then slowly let the air out through his nose. His square face seemed to deflate with his chest. “As you probably know, we’re getting the hell beat out of us by the media. I’ve got to go strictly by the books. I can’t jeopardize this investigation by losing evidence due to any procedural problems.”
Shannon understood the rules of evidence as well as any cop, and the idea of jeopardizing evidence by discussing the case with Shannon sounded close to paranoia. At this point, all forensic evidence must’ve been collected and tagged months ago. Still, Shannon could see the stress built up in Daniels’ face and in the muscles bunched up along his neck. He could appreciate the pressure the man was under. It was also very likely the police were withholding information that could damage their investigation if it got leaked to the public. For one thing, there had been no mention of the murder weapon in the newspaper reports, and Shannon had to think that the police knew what it was. He also strongly suspected they knew whether there was a drug angle involved. But as he looked at the vein beating like a rabbit’s heart on the side of Daniels’ neck, Shannon realized there was no point in asking about any of that.
“My main reason for coming here was I wanted to give you the professional courtesy of letting you know I’ll be privately investigating these murders. Also, I’d like to enter the victims’ condo.”
“I appreciate the professional courtesy. I can’t let you into that condo, though.”
“It’s been three months.”
“It doesn’t matter, it’s still the crime scene for an ongoing investigation.” Daniels held both palms up in an apologetic gesture. “It probably looks like I’m stonewalling you simply for the hell of it, but I’ve really got no choice. Put yourself in my shoes. I’m sure at some point you’ve been where I am now.”
Shannon thought briefly about arguing that after three months the case was cold enough that a second pair of eyes looking things over couldn’t hurt, but instead held out his hand to Daniels. “When I was on the job I never had to worry about a private citizen gumming up one of my cases. I can appreciate your concerns.”
Daniels took his hand and gave Shannon a half-hearted smile. “I don’t want to appear like a prick, especially since it probably looks like I’m going out of my way not to help you, but do you mind telling me who your client is?”
“The owner of the condo is being sued by Taylor Carver’s mother. I was hired by his lawyer, Paul Devens.”
That ignited a spark of interest in Daniels’ eyes. “Eunice Carver brought a suit against the landlord, huh? Any idea why she thinks he’s