“You really didn’t know someone else was working the Jane Does?”
I shook my head. “Pittman said that the cases were closed. I took him at his word. He suspended some good detectives for working the cases after hours.”
“There’s a lot of seriously nasty crap going on in the department. So what’s new, though?” she said as she set down her cup. She gave a deep sigh. “I thought I could deal with it by myself. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Pittman assigned you to the Jane Does? Personally?”
She nodded, then her blue eyes narrowed. “He assigned me to the Glover and Cardinal murders, and any others I wanted to look into. Gave me free rein.”
“And you say you have something?”
“Maybe. I’ve got a possible suspect. He’s involved in a role-playing game that features victims’ being murdered, mostly in Southeast. It’s all after-the-fact stuff, so he could have read the news stories and then fantasized about them. He works at the British Embassy.”
This was a new piece of information, and it surprised me. “How far have you gone with this?”
“Not to Pittman, if that’s what you mean. I’ve done a little discreet checking on the suspect. Trouble is, he seems to be a solid citizen. Very good at his job—supposedly. At least that’s the official word from the embassy. Nice family in Kalorama. I’ve been watching Shafer a little, hoping I’d get lucky. His first name is Geoffrey.”
I knew that she was supposed to be a little bit of a loose cannon, and that she didn’t suffer fools gladly. “You’re out here alone tonight?” I asked her.
Hampton shrugged. “That’s how I usually operate. Partners slow me down. Chief Pittman knows how I like to work. He gave me the green light. All green, all day long.”
I knew she was waiting for me to give her something—if I had anything. I decided to play along. “We found a cab that the killer apparently used in Southeast. He kept it in a garage in Eckington.”
“Anybody see the suspect in the neighborhood?” She asked the right first question.
“The landlady saw him. I’d like to show her pictures of your guy. Or do you want to do it yourself?”
Her face was impassive. “I’ll do it. First thing in the morning. Anything revealing in the apartment?”
I wanted to be straight with her. She’d initiated the meeting, after all. “Photographs of me and my family covered a wall in a closet. They were taken of us in Bermuda. While we were on vacation. He was there watching us all the time.”
Hampton’s face softened. “I heard your fiancée disappeared in Bermuda. Word gets around.”
“There were photographs of Christine, too,” I said.
Her blue eyes became sad. I got a quick look behind her tough facade. “I’m really sorry about your loss.”
“I haven’t given up yet,” I told her. “Listen, I don’t want any credit for solving these cases; just let me help. He called me at home last night. Somebody did. Told me to back off. I assume that he meant this investigation, but I’m not supposed to be on it. If Pittman hears about us—”
Detective Hampton interrupted me. “Let me think about everything you’ve said. You know that Pittman will totally crucify me if he finds out. You have no idea. Trouble is, I don’t trust him.” Hampton’s gaze was intense and direct. “Don’t mention any of this to your buddies, or Sampson. You never know. Just let me sleep on it. I’ll try to do the right thing. I’m not such a hard-ass, really. Just a little weird, you know.”
“Aren’t we all?” I said, and smiled. Hampton was a tough detective, but I felt okay about her. I took something out of my pocket. A beeper.
“Keep this. If you get in trouble or get another lead, you can beep me anytime. If you find something out, please let me know. I’ll do the same. If Shafer’s the one, I want to talk to him before we bring him in. This is personal for me. You can’t imagine how personal.”
Hampton continued to make eye contact, studying me. She reminded me of someone I’d known a while back, another complicated woman cop, named Jezzie Flanagan. “I’ll think about it. I’ll let you know.”
“All right. Thanks for calling me in on this.”
She stood. “You’re not in on it yet. Like I said, I’ll let you know.” Then she touched my hand. “I really am sorry about your friend.”
Chapter 68
WE BOTH KNEW I was in, though. We’d made some kind of deal in the City Limits diner. I just hoped I wasn’t being set up by Hampton and Pittman or God knows who else.
Over the next two days, we talked four times. I still wasn’t sure that I could trust her, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to keep moving forward. She had already visited the landlady who’d rented out the apartment and garage in Eckington. The landlady hadn’t recognized the pictures of Shafer. Possibly he’d worn a disguise when he met with her.
If Patsy Hampton was setting me up, she was one of the best liars I’d met, and I’ve known some good ones. During one of our calls, she confessed that Chuck Hufstedler had been her source, and that she’d gotten him to keep the information from me. I shrugged it off. I didn’t have the time or the energy to be angry at either of them.