Corpus Corpus (22 page)

"I also want the original picture."

"Of course you do. You will find it in the envelope. And just to prove what a high-minded citizen I am, I've also included the negative."

Bogdanovic's eyes went wide open with amazement. "This guy also sent you the negative?"

"It was obviously his way of proving to me that the print was legit. He thought he was being smart. But sending the negative was probably a big mistake, perhaps a fatal one."

Dane leaned forward and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"When he cut that one frame from the strip of film, he also clipped off a small portion of the frame he'd exposed before he made the shot of Janus's body. Being of an inquisitive nature, I had our photo lab print and enlarge that snippet. It's also in the envelope. I had hoped it might turn out to be a nice second-day front page pic. Unfortunately, it's unusable. All it shows is a part of Janus's left shoulder. It seems to have been taken at the news conference Janus and Maggie held before that dinner. But don't count on finding fingerprints on the negative. The guy handled the film by the edges, wearing darkroom gloves."

"Fingerprints would have been good to have," Bogdanovic said as he took the envelope from Abelman, "but the portion of a frame taken at the Gramercy Park Hotel and the next one showing Janus dead is enough to argue to a jury that the person who took them murdered Janus."

"When you arrest him, I shall expect a gesture of gratitude for my assistance in this matter in the form of a telephone call from you so that a Graphic photographer will be on hand to snap an exclusive picture of the murderer being led away in cuffs."

"That's fine, but only if you give me your word that nothing about this meeting gets in the paper until I've made an arrest."

"You know me, Johnny. I'm always ready to sit on a story, as long as it serves my purpose."

"Then we have a deal," Bogdanovic said, standing to extend a hand to Abelman.

Dane also stood. "Good to see you again, Jerry."

"Now, tell me, kiddies, off the record," Abelman said as he accompanied them to the door, "is there or isn't there something going on between you two in what the late godfather of the gossip column, Walter Winchell, liked to call the moonlight and roses department?"

"Our only connection to flowers," said Bogdanovic, surprising Dane by looping an arm around her waist, "is by way of a fat man who cultivates orchids."

 LOOKING UP FROM a gratifyingly thin report on the number and nature of crimes that had been committed in the confines of the five boroughs of New York City during the past twenty-four hours, Chief of Detectives Harvey Goldstein greeted the arrival in his office of Bogdanovic and Dane with a proud smile.

"It appears that the forces of law, order, and righteousness continue to enjoy the upper hand against the bad guys," he said, tapping the report with a fingertip. "Yesterday's overall felony stats are down six percent from the same date a year ago. Homicides yesterday? Four. Off by three."

His eyes shifted to what appeared from across the room to be a large manila envelope in a clear plastic evidence bag clutched in Bogdanovic's right hand.

"What have you there, Johnny? Equally good news, I hope."

Bogdanovic laid the envelope on the desk. "Possibly. What's in it could be the solution to the Janus murder. It's the original of the picture that was in the Graphic. And the negative."

"Well, well. Our camera-and-gun-toting killer certainly is a brave soul, isn't he?"

"He was also careless. When he clipped the negative of the photo of Janus from the film strip, he also snipped off part of a picture taken at the press conference that Janus and Maggie held just before the Black Orchid Banquet."

"That was very sloppy of him, indeed. It's better than having a confession. A clever lawyer like Maggie Dane could get a confession thrown out on any number of technicalities. But one picture, as the saying goes, is worth a thousand words. Dare I hope that either the picture or the negative will produce a set of fingerprints?"

"The killer was sloppy, but he was not stupid. According to Abelman, the photo lab experts at the Graphic found no prints on either the picture or the negative. The killer wore gloves. The picture and negatives were delivered in the envelope that's in the evidence bag, but I'm not counting on finding the killer's fingerprints on it."

"Even without fingerprints," Dane interjected, "the envelope may still connect him to the crime. It was sealed, so it's likely that he sealed it by licking the flap. If so, testing of the saliva and comparing its genetic markers to DNA in a sample of the suspect's will tie the killer to the envelope. That will allow a DA to lead a jury to the inescapable conclusion that whoever sent the envelope to the Graphic murdered Theo."

Goldstein beamed. "The mind of a prosecutor at work! Johnny, it is a beautiful thing to behold at work, especially, in the words of Shakespeare in Henry V, 'When blood is their argument.' "

"Shakespeare?" Bogdanovic exclaimed. "Chief, I'm surprised. I was all set to hear a pithy, on-point quotation from either the canon of Sherlock Holmes or the corpus of Nero Wolfe."

"Not to disappoint you, John," said Dane. "I refer you to a short story in Trouble in Triplicate tided 'Blood Will Tell.' Of course, that was 1949, decades before the discovery of DNA."

With a chuckle of delight, Goldstein looked at Bogdanovic. "Any testing for DNA in this case is for the future. Meanwhile, Johnny, even though we're not likely to find fingerprints on any of the objects you brought from the Graphic, send them to the lab anyway. Maybe we'll get lucky. And while that's being done, where do these fascinating photographic clues leave you in regard to your various theories of the case?"

"They appear to rule out all those involving this having been a gangland killing. The mob doesn't rub out someone and then send a picture of the corpse to a newspaper. And I find it hard to see how Janus's murder is connected to Mancuso's death."

"What about Janus's book on Mancuso's nightstand?"

"The book with its inscription may have provided the impetus for Paulie to jump out the window. But there is no evidence that Janus was involved. We may never know how that book got there, or why. Nor the reason for Paulie's jump."

"Are you proposing that we leave the Mancuso investigation solely to Cornelius Vanderhoff's people?"

"Why not? They had no problem in cutting us out of the loop in that matter. Why get in bed with them now? I personally feel no obligation to pull their irons out of the lire. Let them stew in their own incompetence. I say, tough titties. Let 'em sink or swim. They made that omelette. Let them eat it."

Goldstein directed a mischievous look at Dane. "Maggie, I believe Sergeant Bogdanovic has just set a record for using the most metaphors in a single argument in favor of the dereliction of duty."

With veins standing out in his neck, Bogdanovic angrily demanded, "Since when have I been employed to fix the mistakes of the district attorney's office?"

Still looking at Dane, Goldstein said, "Maggie, I haven't witnessed such an outburst of indignation since Sherlock Holmes defended himself for letting a guilty man go by pointing out to Dr. Watson that he was not retained to supply the deficiencies of Scotland Yard. Have you, Maggie?"

"No, Chief, I haven't."

Goldstein's eyes turned to Bogdanovic. "Of course, Holmes was right. He was not an official detective. He had the luxury of picking his cases and, if he chose, dropping them. And what the hell if a crime went unsolved?"

Bogdanovic took a deep breath, sank into his customary chair, and with a measured cadence said, "There is nothing to indicate, other than writing in a book of what might or might not have been a threat against Mancuso's family, that Mancuso's death was not exactly what it appeared to be, a suicide."

"Yet this very morning in this office," Goldstein replied, "you recited for me a number of theories concerning the murder of Theodore Janus, each of which appeared to be viable. Now you say that you've changed your mind. All your theories, like Mancuso, have gone out the window, save one. You have come to this conclusion that the deaths of Mancuso and Janus on the same night were a fluke of timing and a coincidence." "Pardon me, sir, but-"

"Watch out, Maggie," Goldstein interjected. "When Johnny addresses me as sir, the scene that follows is not pleasant. You may wish to leave the room."

As Dane rose to leave, Bogdanovic exclaimed, "You just stay put, Maggie. No ducking out in the middle of a little squabble. They happen in the best of families."

Dane's questioning look at Goldstein was answered with two downturned palms gesturing to her to resume her seat.

"As to my instincts, Chief," Bogdanovic continued quietly, "they have served you very well so far."

Goldstein responded in a restrained tone that seemed to Dane like a father's to an unruly child. "Those instincts have indeed served me well. That's because they were invariably followed by evidence. All I am asking is that you show me the evidence that will back up your instinct that there's no relationship between Janus's killer and what happened to Mancuso."

"How do I prove a negative?"

"Excuse me, gentlemen," said Dane, "but dare I point out an observation by the man who is at the center of Theo's murder? I refer, of course, to Nero Wolfe."

Bogdanovic threw up his arms in dismay. "Why the hell not? All I've heard since this friggin' case started is the apparently endless wisdom of an overweight sleuth who never existed."

Goldstein's smile was as benign as his tone. "Go ahead, Maggie. What did Wolfe have to say?"

"He said that a negative can never be established. You can only establish guilt."

Bogdanovic grunted. "Brilliant! Apparently, the man was an expert at recognizing the obvious."

Unperturbed, Dane continued, "My point is that when you find out who took that picture and have him in custody, you will know who killed Theo. Having established guilt in one case, you will be in a position to learn whether Theo's murder and the death of Mancuso were related. Fortunately, Theo's killer has provided you the means to track him down. Shakespeare was right when he wrote that murder, though it have no tongue, will speak with most miraculous organ. In this instance, that most miraculous organ was a camera. I don't know why Theo's killer felt he had to record the deed on film and send it to the Graphic, but in being so bold, he made a mistake that planted the seed of his undoing. That little piece of negative showing that he had been in the Gramercy Park Hotel has reduced the field of suspects to those who were in the lobby when Theo and I met the press before dinner."

"Granted," interjected Goldstein. "But there must have been more than a hundred people in that lobby, not including newspaper photographers and TV news crews jostling with each other to point their lenses at your faces. I even saw one TV cameraman shooting you and Janus from behind."

"The ubiquitous reverse-angle shot," Dane said, stoically, as she looked at Bogdanovic, slouching and listening with what seemed to be indifference. "During the big trial, I quickly got used to seeing the back of my head on the six o'clock news."

Bogdanovic lurched out of his slouch. "Reverse-angle shot. Chief, would you by any chance recall what station's camera was shooting Maggie and Janus from the rear?"

With closed eyes and fingers drumming his belly, Goldstein looked at Bogdanovic and said, "I'm not positive, John, but I have a vague memory of the number eleven on the side of the camera. The guy handling it had a gray walrus mustache."

Bogdanovic bolted to his feet. "Chief, your memory serves you well. The cameraman was Bobby Fields. He and I know each other from who knows how many crimes scenes."

"That's good. Need I suggest that you head up to the station's studios at Forty-second and Second Avenue right now and get your friend to show you his handiwork?"

"While Maggie and I are on the way," Bogdanovic said, "let us pray that it hasn't been erased."

The name engraved on a brass plate on a desk littered with paper and stacks of video cassette boxes was Elaine Rose.

As Bogdanovic inquired of her into the availability of the video tape, Dane noted with pleasure and pride that the news director of the television station was not only a woman, but a person who could not be impressed or intimidated by a man bearing a detective's shield.