‘We’re not waiting till Monday,’ said McCabe. ‘This happened in the middle of the city. Someone might’ve been around. Might’ve been watching. Maybe someone with a security camera. Maybe someone who works nights. Aren’t there people working at the Fish Exchange at all hours?’

‘Once upon a time,’ said Cleary. ‘Fishing ain’t what it used to be.’

‘Well, unless and until you have a better idea, let’s see what we can find. I’ll ask Fortier to get you enough people to help knock on doors.’

‘You want me to work the canvass?’ asked Maggie.

‘No. I’d like you to go downstairs and see how Jacobi’s doing cutting Goff out of the Beemer. After she’s on her way to Augusta, I want you to go with the techs to check out her apartment.’

‘Where are you off to?’

‘I’m going to talk to Beth Kotterman. See if I can find out who Goff’s next of kin is. Maybe find out who she palled around with at the office.’ McCabe stood and collected the small pile of printouts. ‘Anybody have anything else?’ He looked at each of his detectives. Nobody responded. ‘Okay. That’s it, then. Call my cell if you find anything meaningful. Otherwise, let’s meet back here tomorrow morning, ten o’clock. And don’t forget what the note said. All the sinners of my people shall die by the sword. “All the sinners” sounds like more than one to me. If that’s the case, he could already be looking for a new playmate. Let’s find him before he finds her.’

Seven

McCabe’s footsteps echoed off the marble walls and floor of Ten Monument Square as he walked across the semidarkened lobby toward a circular security desk. A young black man wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a blue blazer watched him approach. The words METCO Security were stitched in gold letters above the blazer’s breast pocket. A gray-haired woman stood at the side of the desk, hands thrust into the pockets of her open wool coat. Under the coat she wore faded blue jeans and a blue U. Maine sweatshirt, clothes thrown on for an unexpected trip to the office. McCabe placed her in her early fifties. She looked anxious.

‘Ms. Kotterman?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I’m Beth Kotterman. You must be Sergeant McCabe?’

‘That’s right. I’m sorry to keep interrupting your Friday night.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Not in a situation like this. Do you know anything more about’ – she paused, searching for the right word – ‘about what happened?’

‘I’d rather talk in your office, if you don’t mind.’

‘Of course. Come with me.’

‘Uh, excuse me, sir,’ said the guard, ‘would you mind signing in first?’

‘He’s with me, Randall. He’s a police officer.’

‘Sorry, Ms Kotterman. Police or no police,’ said the guard, ‘he’s still gotta sign in. Rules say everybody signs in. Don’t say “except police.”’ The guard smiled. He probably didn’t have a lot of opportunities to hassle cops, and he was enjoying the moment.

‘Not a problem,’ said McCabe, returning the smile. ‘Wanna see my ID?’

The guard shrugged. ‘Sure.’

McCabe flipped open his badge wallet, laid it on the desk, picked up the pen and clipboard, and scrawled his name in the first open space, adding the time 10:32 P.M. in the second. There was a long list of names above his own. He didn’t recognize any except Beth Kotterman’s.

The guard glanced at McCabe’s ID and handed it back. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure. Does everyone who comes into the building also have to sign out?’

‘If they don’t work here, yeah. If they sign in, they sign out.’

‘What about people who do work here?’

‘They only have to sign in or out after 6:00 P.M.’

‘Does everyone show you ID?’

‘Nope. Rules don’t require identification.’

Stupid rules, thought McCabe. Anybody could sign in using any name they wanted. ‘Ms. Kotterman, could you give me a minute just to ask Randall here a couple more questions?’

Kotterman nodded. She obviously wanted to be finished with this, but she said, ‘That’s fine. I’ll be in my office. When you’re ready, ask him to call my extension. I’ll come down and get you.’

The guard eyed McCabe. ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’

‘Just want to ask you a few questions.’

‘I don’t have to answer any questions.’

‘No, I guess you don’t, but I’m pretty sure my friends over at METCO Security would be a whole lot happier with you if you did. Now, what’d you say your last name was?’

‘Jackson. Randall Jackson.’

‘Okay, Randall,’ said McCabe, ‘let me make sure I understand the rules. You said all visitors to the building have to sign in and sign out, but anyone who works here only has to sign in or out after 6:00 P.M. Is that right?’

‘Yeah. That’s right.’

‘So how do you know who’s who?’

‘Whaddaya mean?’

‘You know everybody who works in the building?’

‘Most of ’em. By face anyway. The ones I don’t know either sign in or show me ID.’

‘Nobody ever slips through without signing?’

The guard studied McCabe for a minute. ‘Not on my watch.’

‘How about anybody else’s watch?’

‘Can’t speak to that.’

‘Is there someone on this desk around the clock?’

‘Yep. Twenty-four seven.’

‘You work alone, or do you have a partner?’

‘During the day there are two of us. At night I’m alone.’

‘Where do you go to take a leak?’

‘There’s a break room in the basement. With a toilet.’

‘So somebody might be able to slip through while you’re taking a leak?’

‘No. That door you used to come into the building? I lock it if I have to go downstairs.’

‘And there are no other ways in?’

‘Not at night. Back door only opens from the inside, and the garage is gated. You need a card key to raise the gate. Only the lawyers have card keys.’

Fairly typical building security. Not bad, but not good enough to keep a determined or clever bad guy from sneaking in. ‘Do you always work this building, or does METCO shift you around?’

‘Usually here. Occasionally I work other buildings. METCO’s got contracts with most of the big buildings in town.’

‘Were you here the night of December twenty-third?’

‘What do you want to know that for?’

‘A minute ago I asked you if anybody ever slips by you without signing in, and you said, “Not on my watch.” I wondered if your watch happened to include the night of the twenty-third.’

‘The twenty-third?’

‘Yes. The twenty-third.’

The guard stared at McCabe. After a long minute he said, ‘That would’ve been the Friday before Christmas?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Yeah, I was here. I worked a double that day. Traded with another guard so I could take Christmas off. Started at 4:00 p.m. Stayed on till eight the next morning.’

‘Long hours.’

‘Yeah, I wanted to be home with my kids on Christmas.’

Okay, he was a dad. Did that make him any more trustworthy? Maybe not. ‘Did you notice anything unusual that day, anything that sticks out in your mind? Think about it.’

Randall thought about it. He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he nodded as if reconstructing the day in his mind. ‘The only thing unusual was all the people who left early ’cause of the holiday. A lot of ’em didn’t come back from lunch. Place was pretty much empty by five o’clock except for the big bosses, who all left together around six, six thirty. Most of ’em seemed pretty happy, gave me something for the holiday. Best as I can remember there were only a couple of late sign-outs. Usually a lot of folks work late.’

‘Who were the late ones that night?’

‘First one was one of the younger lawyers, Miss Goff. Real pretty woman. Fact is, I saw her a couple of times.’

‘When?’

‘First time was around eight o’clock or so. I remember ’cause she wasn’t wearing a coat and it was colder’n –’ Jackson stopped himself.

‘Colder’n shit?’ asked McCabe.

‘Yeah. Colder’n shit. Anyway, she didn’t sign out. She had a Federal Express envelope in her hand and said she’d be right back.’