The commissioner, a fireplug of a man, marched into the office and took a seat at the end of the sofa nearest Stone. He looked at Stone’s feet.
“ Barrington,” he said, “do you always wear two different shoes?”
45
STONE LOOKED AT THE COMMISSIONER. “Only when it rains.”
The commissioner didn’t laugh, which was like him.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said to Stone.
Stone blinked. “It’s not my show.”
“Commissioner,” Tiffany said smoothly, “we’re here to coordinate the investigations into Derek Sharpe and Sig Larsen.”
“Who’s Larsen?” the commissioner asked, frowning.
“Short for Sigmund, presumably. He’s the man who’s running some sort of Ponzi scheme.”
“Be nice to catch one of these guys before he steals everybody’s money,” the commissioner said.
A secretary came into the room with a tray of Danish pastries and set them on the coffee table in front of Stone, who became ravenous at the sight of them. Desperately in need of something to get his blood sugar up, he grabbed a cheese Danish and took a big bite o
f it.
“ Barrington,” the commissioner said, “as I understand it, you initiated these investigations, so give us a rundown.”
Stone, whose mouth had been dry to begin with, chewed faster and tried to swallow some of the cream cheese. He looked desperately for coffee, but none had been brought. He made a shrugging motion to gain time.
“ Barrington, are you hearing me?”
Stone nodded and chewed faster. “It’s like this,” he managed to say, then chewed and swallowed some more. The secretary returned with a coffee jug and cups, and Stone poured himself some. He scalded his tongue taking a big swallow, but most of the Danish went down with it. “It began as a private thing,” he said. “A client of the law firm to which I am of counsel asked me to investigate Derek Sharpe, fearing for his daughter’s trust fund, which she was about to come into.”
Brian Doyle interrupted him. “That’s when we got involved,” Brian said.
Stone fought back. “Yes, that’s when I called Lieutenant Doyle and suggested he might be interested in Sharpe. I don’t believe he had heard of him until then.”
Doyle turned red. “Sharpe was already on my radar, but we hadn’t yet had cause to move.” He explained in some detail the involvement of Mitzi and Tom, leaving out Stone whenever possible.
Stone used the opportunity to take a smaller bite of the Danish, which helped cool his tongue. “Then Sig Larsen entered the picture,” he said. “I can understand why Lieutenant Doyle wasn’t interested in him, and I wasn’t surprised to hear that the U.S. Attorney became involved.”
“And that’s why we’re here,” the commissioner said. “To coordinate the two investigations.”
“Actually,” Tiffany said, “I don’t want to assign investigative personnel to this matter at this point. Lieutenant Doyle seems to have the situation well in hand.”
“Thank you, Ms. Baldwin,” Doyle said.
“Then there’s nothing to coordinate?” the commissioner asked.
“All we need is your go-ahead to proceed, sir,” Doyle said.
“I would have given that on the phone,” the commissioner said, rising to his feet and snagging a Danish. He wrapped it in a napkin and put it in his jacket pocket. “Good day to you all,” he said, and marched toward the door. But before reaching it he stopped and said, “ Barrington, step outside with me.”
Stone reluctantly set down his Danish and followed. The sugar was making its way to his brain now, and he was thinking more clearly. He followed the commissioner out of the office and through the reception area into the hallway outside.
“Listen,” the commissioner said to Stone. “Has Doyle really got this thing in hand?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Stone said truthfully. “So far, I’ve been used as a beard for Detective Reynolds for the most part.”