The Final Cut (A Brit in the FBI 1)

“Not to me, no. Why?”

“We found a .22 in her apartment under the Russian’s body. The gun was bought off the street, illegally, a week ago. We think the killer put it under the body to cover his tracks, make it look like Elaine and Kochen killed one another.”

“This was a well-orchestrated crime scene, then.”

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“Yes. We know the .22 was Elaine’s because she’d written herself a receipt, stashed it in her wallet. The ballistics match the bullet the ME took out of Elaine’s chest. The prints on the weapon are smudged, so the killer was wearing gloves. Her fingerprints are on the bullets.

“As for her cell phone, the only recent calls were back and forth between the staff at the Met and several calls to her mother in England. We have a warrant in for the full records, cell and home, but her complete cell records will take a few days because she was using an international phone. Lots of red tape.”

“The gun purchase receipt could have been planted, then, and her signature forged.”

“I suppose so,” but he knew she didn’t believe it. He really didn’t, either. But what did that prove?

He asked, “What about her laptop? Have you started the examination yet? Elaine was a compulsive journaler. Surely there’s some indication of what was happening in them.”

“There wasn’t a laptop, and we assumed the killer took it. Either he was covering all the bases, or there was something on it he wanted.”

Nicholas tapped his fingertips on the dash, tap, tap, tap, then said, “In addition to journaling, she kept most of her work in an online cloud because she disliked carrying a laptop everywhere. She’d devised a system where she could access her files on the fly from any computer, tablet, or smartphone. Once upon a time she shared her password to the account with me. With any luck, she hasn’t changed it. If she has, I have a few tricks up my sleeve that won’t leave a trace. I should be able to break into her account remotely.”

“You’re a hacker?”

“One of my many skills,” he said without expression, and Mike shot him a look that almost made him laugh. She wasn’t happy about that, but then again, he didn’t expect her to be. Working with the American FBI was going to be an experience, for both sides.

“Good to know, but I have some of the best computer minds in the Bureau on my staff. I want one of them to try to access Inspector York’s files. We wouldn’t want the case against her murderer to be thrown out on a technicality.” Even though her tone was pleasant, he heard the warning loud and clear.

Touché. He said easily, “Certainly. Of course. I understand completely,” and thought jurisdiction and justice be damned, this was Elaine. No way was he going to sit back and wait for some FBI hack to do the job for him.

14

The New York skyline peeked above the concrete barriers, cold and forbidding. Traffic was backing up, and Mike took out her flasher and put it on the dash. “Sorry for the noise, but we need to get uptown, fast.” The slower cars moved to the side of the road, and she gunned it.

He said, “If my uncle sent you to pick me up, can I assume you’re in the loop on the other small issue?”

And of course he was involved up to his eyebrows, too, and she didn’t like it. On the other hand, maybe his brain was as fine as his butt and she could use him. Maybe. She saw herself as a trainer and him as a stubborn, bullheaded Rottweiler.

“The diamond being stolen, you mean? Yes, I’m well aware of the situation, through SAC Horsley, ugh, I can’t stop calling him that. He keeps insisting I call him Bo, but it’s tough, since he was my SAC for years—anyway, he told me you would fill me in. We’re headed directly for the Met right now to meet with your uncle Bo and the curator of the exhibit. Find out exactly what everyone knows.”

“I’ll tell you everything Uncle Bo told me,” and he did.

She listened, never said a word until he’d finished. She was quiet, and he sensed she wanted to say something, not about the theft but about something else, but she didn’t really want to. Why? Because it would be an acknowledgment that he was already in the thick of things? He had to get past her distrust of him, her gut-negative reaction at a foreigner horning in on her investigation. He needed her on his side, at least for the time being.

“Am I to assume you’ve made a connection between Elaine and the missing diamond that I don’t know about?”

Mike spoke carefully. She didn’t want to alienate the man, at least not yet. “Is she capable of such a thing? To betray everyone like this?”

He turned to face her, his arm stretched out along the back of his seat. “I’m not saying this because she was my friend, my colleague. But for her to steal the diamond—like I told Uncle Bo and Savich and Sherlock, it would be entirely out of character. I can’t envision her breaking the law for personal gain, and what other reason would someone want the diamond, if not to benefit from it financially? She fought on the right side. Crime sickened her, if you can understand the sentiment.”

Mike nodded. “I do. Everyone in the FBI feels the same way, which is why we’re the best in the world at what we do—no offense to New Scotland Yard, of course.”

“Of course not. Why would you ever want to offend Scotland Yard?” That shut her up. Oh, he wouldn’t mind going head-to-head with the FBI. Give them a run for their money. But he had no problem with trying to stay on their good side, so he said, “We’re all on the same side,” and shut up.

There was more coming; he could feel the pressure building in the car. Three, two, one, and yes, there she went, her head turning slightly toward him in that way he’d already started to recognize.

She said, “You’ve got to know that everything is pointing toward one logical conclusion.” She paused for a moment. “I have to tell you, if Inspector York is involved, this situation is bigger than our personal feelings toward our teammates. All right?”

There it was. She was worried his personal feelings would affect his judgment. He’d be suspicious of an outsider coming into his team as well, especially under these circumstances.