Mike was ripped. He went first to the closet and started looking through it, pushing hangers apart, pulling shoe boxes off shelves and tossing them on the floor.
"You got to stop this, Mike. You can't do it."
"Take a hike, Coop. This time he's really dead and I can do-"
"You don't even know what you're looking for."
"Why? Those jerks on the Supreme Court were so many light-years ahead of me? I'll know it when I see it, isn't that what they said? It works for me, too."
Briggs was in the doorway, oblivious to Mike's reference to the famous opinion on pornography rendered by Justice Potter Stewart more than thirty years ago. "What…?"
Now he looked like every other junkie crashing down from a cocaine high. His eyes were red-not from crying, we knew-and he was sniffing constantly. His hand was shaking as he tried to find a surface on which to rest it.
"Alex, go ask Kehoe where his beloved went. Tell him to get her on the phone, pronto," Mike said, rifling through dresser drawers. "Briggs, d'you ever go to the movies with your father?"
"Shows. Mostly shows, you know? Broadway."
"Do what I told you, Alex."
I didn't want to leave Mike alone in the room with Briggs. I didn't want him flipping out at the kid.
"Go. Get Kehoe. I'm talking home movies, kid. Ever see the monitors your father had in this room?"
Mike waved me out. I guess he hoped Joe's son would speak more candidly about his father's habits if I wasn't there.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Briggs said as I walked away to the top of the stairs.
Vicci was on his cell and Kehoe was using the phone on Berk's desk.
"Excuse me, Mr. Kehoe. Why don't you give Mona a call?" I asked. "We've got a few more questions for her."
He covered the receiver with his hand. "Let her cool down. She's on her way home. I can handle this more diplomatically than Chapman, okay?"
I stepped to the side and called Mercer to bring him up to speed. He was still at the City Center office tower, which was basically closed down for the evening, and he was waiting for our return in one of the management offices in which Stan had set him up.
"Call Peterson for me. Ask him to get a team to sit on Mona Berk's loft in SoHo. The address is in the DD5S. Keep an eye on her till Mike figures out what he wants to do next. And maybe the lieutenant ought to set somebody up over here. I may need to draff a warrant 'cause Mike's convinced Berk has videos or more photographs-something to give us a break. It wouldn't hurt to have someone safeguarding this place overnight."
"You know what Peterson's going to tell me. No manpower."
"Let him pull some of the guys from the Met task force before they knock off for the day. It's important."
Rinaldo Vicci was saying good-bye to Kehoe as I approached them. "Please, Mr. Vicci. I'd prefer that you don't leave yet. Detective Chapman may have a few questions for you."
"But, signora, I've got a client performing at the Winter Garden tonight. Second lead. I promised to meet with him backstage before he goes on."
"We'll do our best to get you there on time."
Vicci unwrapped his trademark scarf and walked to the sofa to make another call.
"Would you mind introducing me to these other people?" I asked Kehoe, taking a small writing pad from Berk's desk.
"Sure. They're friends of Briggs. I don't know all their names, but there's no reason for them not to cooperate." We broke up the four-some who still remained and I took down their pedigree and contact information. A short conversation with each and it seemed they had no connection to Joe Berk other than their relationship with Briggs.
"You think Detective Chapman wants me to wait around, too?" Kehoe said.
"I'll go up and check with him. We've actually got to get back up to City Center this evening. I was going to talk to Mona about that, too. Does she keep any kind of office there?"
"At City Center? No, she doesn't. Why do you want to know?"
"I saw her leaving the building this afternoon. I tried to get her attention but she was already on her way here. I guess she'd heard the news about Joe. I was wondering what her business might be there."
"She may have gone to see a rehearsal. Or maybe an agent called her to check out a client. You'll have to ask her about that."
"Let me see what Mike's up to. I'll be back to both of you in a few minutes."
Briggs and Mike were talking quietly when I went upstairs to the bedroom, the kid sitting on the side of the bed and Mike on a chair he had pulled opposite him.
Briggs was recounting the conversation he'd had with his father yesterday.
"Do you mind if I-"
"C'mon in," Mike said. "Doesn't look like junior here knew about the monitors. Claims he had no reason to come into the bedroom. Wasn't here very often."
"Hardly ever."
"But you were having dinner with your father the night of his accident," I said.
"Yeah. But we hadn't been getting along too well before that. We'd made that date a few weeks earlier. I-I waited for him to come downstairs. I always did."
"Tell Ms. Cooper why you came back from California."
Briggs looked up at me. "Rinaldo-you know Mr. Vicci?-he'd been calling me about Lucy. About Lucy DeVore. He told me the doctors expect her to be conscious this week. He-um-he thought I ought to be here, like in case she had anything to say about me. He's-well-he's like a very nervous kind of guy, Mr. Vicci."
"Did your father know why you were coming home?"
"Nope. I didn't call him until yesterday morning. Only Rinaldo knew, and Mona. My cousin Mona."
"Why'd you tell her?" I asked.
"We were just getting to that when you came in. Seems Briggs here wanted to talk to his father about his will. Get the old boy while he's down."
The young man's head snapped up as he looked at Mike. "He almost died last week. I wanted to-um-to make sure things were straight between us, let him know he didn't have to worry about me screwing up the fortune he'd made."
"Make sure you were still in the will? So tell Miss Cooper why you called Mona."
"'Cause my siblings and I don't get along. They hated my mother and they hate me. Mona's the only one in the family who's been decent to me, even when my father had no use for me."
"She wasn't mad at you when you dropped the lawsuit the two of you had started against Joe?"
Briggs looked over at me. "Who told you about the lawsuit?"
"Give the DA some credit for doing her homework, kid. Ms. Cooper's not as dumb as she looks," Mike said.
"Did you and your father argue yesterday?"
He didn't answer.
"Were you fighting about your inheritance?"
"I didn't want to do anything to upset him. He-he looked bad," Briggs said. "I felt really sorry for him. Right up through the night of the accident he was really strong. He was in good shape. All of a sudden, I see him this way. He looked so weak and unhappy. I didn't mean to start a fight."
"But you did?" I said softly.
"I don't want to talk about it. And I don't want you looking around in here anymore until my dad's lawyer comes over."
"We've got some detectives on the way who are going to spend the night here, Briggs. They're going to make sure no one touches anything of your father's," I said.
"So you'd better come downstairs with us, okay?"
He stood up and followed us out of the room. Vicci and Kehoe were waiting for Mike in Berk's office. It was after seven o'clock and each was ready to get on his way.
Mike asked a few questions before letting them go. Both embraced Briggs and told him they'd see him the next day.
Within minutes after their departure, the doorbell rang. Briggs opened it and two men, both detectives who'd been called in from their respective squads to work on the Met task force, introduced themselves to Briggs and came inside.
"Hey, Michael," Frank Merriam said, slapping Chapman on the back. "Counselor, top of the evening to you, too. Heard you had a rough night over at your place, Alexandra."
"You know me-any excitement to keep Chapman on his toes."
"You pull this detail, Frankie? Sorry about that," Mike said. "Till we find out who the executor of the estate is, Coop's afraid someone's gonna run off with whatever Joe Berk has here."
"No need for apologies. Overtime, my good man. Back-to-back tours in the big city? Doesn't happen often enough for a guy in the 123rd. Just tell me where I can get the best steak and a couple of brews when I stroll out for my dinner."
The portly, red-faced Merriam worked in one of the three precincts that covered Staten Island. The city's fifth borough was part of the same police department, but it seemed like a different planet. To cops who spent a career working the streets of Manhattan, the 123 rd might as well have been in the Cotswolds.
"Those men we saw going out a few minutes ago. You happen to get the name of the tall guy? The younger one?"
Mike answered. "You mean Kehoe? Ross Kehoe."
"That's the moniker. I thought he looked familiar."
"You know him?"
"Not a drinking buddy, if that's what you mean. Remember the Kills?"
The expression kills derived irons an old Dutch word meaning "channels," dating from the period when New York was once New Amsterdam. The Kills was the body of water separating Staten Island from the New Jersey shoreline, and Mike and I had come to know it well.
"Sure."
"We had a homicide-body washed up near the Outerbridge Crossing. Probably a hit, somebody who got whacked, but was dressed up real nice to look like a suicide."
"How long ago?"
"Two, maybe two and a half years."
"Who died?" Mike asked.
"Construction worker. Had something to do with one of the unions and some mob heavies. You've met my partner, Vinny, right? He thought Kehoe looked good for it. Four or five guys who grew up with the union boss. Seemed like they'd do anything for him, and Kehoe was one of the slickest in that pack."
"Grew up where?"
"Staten Island."
Mike and I looked at each other before he spoke. "Where's Clay Pit Ponds park?"
"You oughta come hang out with me sometime. I'll give you a tour. None of this blackboard jungle you live with in Manhattan. We got beaches and golf courses and lakes. We even got us a wildlife refuge now."
"Clay Pit Ponds park, Frank? C'mon." Mike was serious now, and I thought of the Staten Island site of the rare Torrey Mountain mint plant that had been found on Talya's pointe shoe.
"Southwestern part of the island."
"Near the Kills? Kehoe have any family there?"
"He did then. His mother lived off Woodrow Avenue. I think he had a sister who may have gotten the family house when she kicked the bucket, but I didn't follow it close like Vinny." Frank was exploring the niches that ringed Joe Berk's office, looking at the bizarre assortment of Napoleonic objects.
"The homicide Vinny was working-he ever clear Kehoe?"
"Nah. The ME gave us an inconclusive. Body was in the water too long for a cause of death so we never got no murder charge to go with."
"Listen to me, Frank. You guys out on Staten Island, news reach you yet about this stuff they call DNA?"
"Only lately. Don't Nab his Ass-DNA-Don't Nab his Ass until you get his spit or his sperm. That's what the captain always tells me. Right, Michael?"
"Did Vinny get a DNA sample from Ross Kehoe?"
Frank put down the Empress Josephine's tortoiseshell hair comb to turn around and face Mike. "What do you think, buddy? You cross the Verrazano and it's all amateur hour to you? We get a few homicides every year, a handful of rapes. Sure, Vinny got DNA. That's how come I saw Kehoe. He had to come into the station house to be swabbed one night. Cool as an ice cube. Never gave us a bit of trouble."
"And the deceased?"
"Nothing left of what was once his body to compare to anything or anybody. Waterlogged bones inside of a zoot suit. Fishes and frogs got to him first."
I walked to Joe Berk's desk and picked up the phone to call Serology.
A technician answered and I identified myself. "I've got an urgent request. I need you to drop whatever you're doing to examine two samples tonight. I need you to make a comparison to some evidence in the Metropolitan Opera murder case."
The tech rambled an objection while Mike smiled at me, the biggest grin I'd seen on his face in months. "That's the Coop I know. I can hear those steel balls clanging against each other even while you're standing still."
"Well, either you call Dr. Thaler at home or I will, but we're going to get this done before your shift is over tonight."
The tech continued his protest.
"I know there's a court order forbidding comparisons of crime scene evidence to suspects in the linkage database, and you have my word that I'll deal with the judge first thing tomorrow morning. In person. If anybody's held in contempt of court, you won't be the first one behind bars. That'll be me. I'm going to give you the names and case information and you tell me how fast you can get this done, okay?"
I told him what he needed to know, then hung up the phone and grabbed Frank Merriam in a bear hug.
"Some globally endangered mint and a few skin cells on the outside of a man's glove," Mike said. "Didn't look like much at first, but it's beginning to smell a little bit like probable cause."