Page 27 of The Drowned Woman
“No, you. The way you got him to cooperate. Guy’s been stonewalling me all morning.”
Luka met her gaze and raised an eyebrow.
She sighed. “Yeah, I know, honey instead of vinegar. I was just so riled up over McKinley and the patrol guys trying to blame me and Krichek for this morning’s fiasco—”
“How about if you let me handle McKinley and you focus on the case. What other loose ends need following up?” Naomi Harper’s test scores had proven she was capable of being promoted to detective, but her attitude often made Luka wonder if she was ready.
“I haven’t had any luck tracing next of kin—”
“Maggie and the coroner’s office will help with that.”
“Then the biggest thing I want to tackle is finding the victim’s cell phone. A woman her age, sick husband at home, no way in hell she’s forgetting it or losing it. But it wasn’t on her body or with her personal effects, so where is it?”
Luka nodded. The missing cell phone was top of his list as well. “Get with Sanchez in the cyber unit. There was a video baby monitor in the apartment, no doubt sending footage to Trudy’s cell. Maybe he has a way to access that. Also see if the cell provider has the data on her recent activity ready. If not, follow up on it. I don’t want to wait until Monday.” Weekend or not, he and his team would be working, so why shouldn’t the damn phone company?
“And you’ll take the autopsy?” Harper seemed relieved to be spared that particular duty.
Luka didn’t mind attending postmortems—he often came up with questions he didn’t even know he had during the examination of the victim’s body. The only thing he hated was how damned long they took—especially if assistant medical examiner Ford Tierney was on duty. The guy was brilliant but he had a tendency to make everything take twice as long while he checked and double-checked his findings. But that was also why the DA loved him in court. No defense attorney had ever been able to rattle Ford on cross-examination. “I’ve got it from here. Go on back to the office. Call me if you find anything.”
“Will do. Later, boss.”
Luka turned to the monitoring window. The counseling room reminded him of his dentist’s waiting room—soft, rounded chairs, a cushioned loveseat. Walt Orly sat in one chair, the only sign of agitation the constant drumming of his left foot. His hands were palms up in his lap, his shoulders slumped, jaw slack.
Leah sat in the chair beside Walt while Chaudhari sat across from them. Leah began by asking basic questions, making sure Walt was oriented and agreed to be interviewed. Luka was impressed by how she was able to document everything they needed legally while also putting Walt at ease. Then she said, “Walt. Thank you again for meeting with us. Do you know why we wanted to talk with you?”
Walt hunched his body, his gaze centered on Chaudhari’s shoes. He began rocking slowly. “Something happened. I saw—”
Leah waited much longer than Luka would have done before gently pressing the issue. “What did you see, Walt?”
Walt shook his head, still focused on the floor. Hard, small shakes of denial. “No! Trudy! No!” Despite his agitation, his voice was low, mournful, coming from somewhere deep down in his gut.
Chaudhari reached across the space to lay a hand on Walt’s knee. “Are you all right? Do we need to stop, Walt?”
Luka aimed the psychiatrist a glare even though he knew the man couldn’t see it through the two-way mirror. Chaudhari was only doing his job, trying to protect his patient, but Luka needed to hear what Walt had to say.
Walt kept rocking, but said nothing.
Leah waited until his movements slowed and some of the tenseness left his body. Then she asked, “Walt, do you remember Trudy coming back from the store this morning?”
“Meds, I spilled my meds. I should’ve never—she thought I couldn’t open the door…” He held up his trembling hands, drew them into fists. “But I went outside, and, and, and, and—” His jaw clamped tight.
“It’s okay, Walt. Hey, can you take a deep breath for me?” Leah asked. “Like this?” She moved her hands up and down in time with a long inhalation and even longer exhalation. After a few breaths, Walt relaxed a bit. “Good, good. Now, you went outside, was Trudy there?”
Walt shook his head vigorously.
“Did you see anyone?” Leah tried again.
The room grew silent except for Walt, heaving one breath in after another, as if gathering the strength to answer. Leah and Chaudhari sat perfectly still, while behind the glass Luka found himself holding his breath.
Then Walt launched himself out of the chair in an explosion of fury. He flew across the space, a primal shriek emerging as he flung himself headlong into the mirror. He pummeled the image of himself with both fists—to Luka on the other side, it felt as if the blows were aimed at him. Tears streaked his face as he screamed, “She’s dead! Trudy’s dead!”
Chaudhari came up from behind but stopped short of coming within range of Walt’s fists. “Walt, listen to me—”
“No! She’s dead, she’s dead…” Walt’s body deflated and he fell to the ground, sobbing, both arms circling his knees, head bowed, rocking his body into a tight ball. “Dead, and it’s my fault…”
Sixteen
After Walt Orly’s disastrous interview, Leah invited Luka to lunch in the physician dining room. It was the least she could do, given how badly her first interview for the police had gone. It wasn’t her fault; she had warned them that given Walt’s dementia, there might be little he could tell them, but it was frustrating that it had gone downhill so fast.
