New York Dead (Stone Barrington 1)
“Has Ms. Morgan been doing some work on her place?”
“I’ll say she has! She’s had builders in the house almost since the day she moved in; she must have done something pretty major to her place. They’ve stopped coming, though; they must be finished.” She paused. “Did I mention that Morgan has a gun?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I saw it when she moved in. I ran into her on the front steps – the first time I’d met her – and she was carrying a cardboard box full of stuff, and right on top was this pretty good-sized pistol in a holster. She made some joke about how you can’t be too careful in New York.”
Stone stood up. “Well, thank you for your help, Ms. Vincent.”
“Wouldn’t you like another cup?” She seemed anxious for company.
“Thanks, but I have a lot to do today.”
Stone left the building and walked up and down both sides of the street. He checked at a bar, a dry cleaner, and a shoe repair shop; all of them were acquainted with Hank Morgan, but nobody had seen her on the night of Sasha’s disappearance. He checked his notebook for the home phone number of the doorman at Sasha’s old building, called him, and ascertained that Morgan had been there before Sasha’s fall. The doorman hadn’t seen Morgan that night. Discouraged, he drove back to the precinct.
Dino was at his desk, looking pleased with himself.
“There wasn’t any promissory note,” he said, grinning. “Morgan lied to us.”
“Not necessarily,” Stone replied. “Nijinsky might have kept them someplace else.”
“Nah,” Dino said. “She kept perfect records, and they were perfectly complete. If Morgan had given her a note, that’s where it’d be. What did you come up with?”
Stone gave an account of his investigation. “The downstairs neighbor was on vacation, like Morgan said. The lady doesn’t like lesbians, but she had nothing to say that would have incriminated Morgan. I had the feeling she wished she’d had something to tell me.”
“Morgan’s our killer,” Dino said. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“I can’t feel it in mine, Dino. I know how bad we need a bust on this one, but Morgan’s just not it. The lady’s clean, except maybe on a weapons charge. The neighbor saw a pistol, but Morgan may have a permit.”
“I’ll check on that, but, take my word for it, the lady’s no lady,” Dino said. “And she’s dirty.”
Chapter 23
On his way home, Stone was stopped in his tracks by a headline in the Post: ARREST IN SASHA CASE! He grabbed a copy.
Henrietta “Hank” Morgan, 32, a makeup artist at the Continental Network and a leading activist in lesbian-rights demonstrations, was taken in handcuffs to the 19th Precinct this morning and questioned for more than three hours about the disappearance of TV anchorwoman Sasha Nijinsky. In what a police source described as a “breakthrough” in the investigation, Morgan is reported to have given a detailed statement on videotape, while her lawyer, Carlton Palmer, was present. While the NYPD has not disclosed the contents of the tape, a source has said, “This all but wraps up the investigation.” The source would not reveal what the NYPD thinks has become of Sasha.
Ace criminal trial lawyer Palmer said, in a telephone interview at press time, “My client is innocent of any wrongdoing, and the police know that. This entire episode is a perversion of justice.”
Morgan, the daughter of a prominent Pennsylvania manufacturer, has been in and out of a dozen makeup jobs in the film and television industry over the past ten years and is known to have been Sasha Nijinsky’s personal choice as her makeup artist at the Continental Network.
The story made Stone grind his teeth. The precinct seemed to be leaking from every pore, and whoever had given the Post the story had either not known what he was talking about or had deliberately misled the newspaper. There was going to be hell to pay.
The phone was ringing as he entered the house, tripping over a number of boxes in the hallway. The dentist in the professional suite downstairs received packages for him when he was at work and put them inside the front door.
Dino was on the phone. “Leary wants us downtown at the DA’s office tomorrow morning at nine.”
“What’s going on?”
“He didn’t say.”
A thought struck Stone. “I’m scheduled for a department physical tomorrow morning.”
“If you want, I’ll do the meeting, you get checked out.”
Stone thought for a moment. “I’d better be there, I think. I don’t much like the sound of it.”
“You seen the Post?”