Fat Tuesday(19)

At his desk, he shrugged off his jacket but hadn't even had time to hang it on the coatrack when Pat opened the door to his office and called him in. Burke left his jacket on his desk but carried his coffee with him."What's going on?"

Pat closed the door to give them privacy."Sit down."

"I don't want to sit down. I want to know what the hell's going on."

"Raymond Hahn is dead."

Burke sat down.

"He and his girlfriend were found in their bed this morning."

Burke took a sip of coffee."Am I to assume he didn't die of accidental or natural causes?"

"They were murdered."

Pat went on to explain that the woman worked as a teller at a branch bank. She clocked in by six-thirty in order to open up the drive-through window at seven. When she didn't show up and hadn't called in sick, a co-worker went to check, expecting to find her hungover or stoned.

She'd failed one random drug test, but had been given another chance on the promise she would get counseling for substance abuse. The co-worker found the apartment door unlocked. She went inside.

"It was ... a mess." "Don't spare me the details," Burke said irritably."I'm not going to faint."

"Well, the woman from the bank did. The girl sustained several stab wounds. Initial coroner's report is that only one of those wounds could have been fatal. The killer took his time and enjoyed killing her.

It appears she'd also been sodomized, but whether before or after she died hasn't yet been established. Hahn was luckier, if you could call it that. He had only one wound in the side of his neck, but it was well placed. The killer knew where to stick him for a quick and silent kill."

Burke left his chair, took his coffee with him to the third-story window, and stared out of it while sipping coffee from his personal mug, which was decorated with multicolored sea horses. Barbara had bought the souvenir mug on a rare vacation to Florida. He didn't remember how long ago that had been. Eons. At least it seemed that long ago. He could no longer imagine doing something as carefree as going on a trip to the beach and shopping for silly souvenirs. Any frivolity in his life had died the night he shot and killed Kev Stuart.

"Clues?"

"The crime unit is on it, but so far it looks clean. Something might turn up in autopsy. The girl's rectum and vagina were bruised and abraded. But there wasn't visible semen on her."

The lab was wasting their time and manpower. There wouldn't be any evidence. Bardo liked knives, and this sounded like his kind of hit.

His favorite pastime was rough sex, but even in the heat of his sordid passion, he would have been careful to use a condom. He was too smart to leave a DNA fingerprint behind, although they might get lucky and find a tissue or hair sample.

Burke had sent Hahn to jail last night. Had the undercover officer been wallowing in the drunk tank while his girlfriend was being raped and killed by Bardo? Had he come home and caught them together?

"Signs of struggle?"

"None," Pat replied."I can't figure how he managed to kill both of them. Did he ice Hahn, then terrorize the girl before killing her?"

"Maybe. Or ..." Burke thought about it."Or he did the girl first, then waited in the apartment until Hahn got home."

Pat frowned doubtfully."Hahn was undressed and in bed when he got hit."

"Hahn was late coming in. The killer hid until poor Ray was in bed.

He probably got into bed without turning on the light. I do it all the time when I don't want to wake up Barbara. Hahn didn't see that his girlfriend was dead. He didn't see the blood or realize that anything was wrong." Burke gripped the coffee mug tighter."That sounds like him."

"Who?"

"Bardo. Bardo would have thought it was funny that his victim locked him in instead of out."

'"Why would you think it was Bardo?"

"We arrested Hahn and Sachel. Duvall shows up here in the middle of the night. We know that Sachel is on Duvall's secret payroll. Bardo is his hired gun. Our undercover man gets hit. Figure it out. It can't be a coincidence."

'"Of course it can!" Pat exclaimed. Burke came around to face him, but Pat continued before he could say anything."You know as well as I do that Hahn was a junkie. It appears the woman was too. The hit could have been over a drug deal gone south. It could have been a love triangle. It could have been " '"That Duvall knew Ray was ours and wanted to put him out of commission, while at the same time teaching us a sound lesson."

"All right, it could," Pat conceded, coming to his feet."But I don't want you to take this personally. Like it only happened to you.

The whole division will feel shitty about it. We're a team, Burke.

We've got to work together. We can't let a few setbacks send us spinning out of control. We must continue to work methodically."

This managerial bullshit speech was uncharacteristic of Doug. He usually reserved the textbook pep talks for when he addressed the entire group. In private, he and Burke were more candid with each other.

"What else?" Burke asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there's more, isn't there? What is it you're dreading to tell me?"

Pat rubbed the back of his neck. He was a slender man, with a high, smooth forehead and a receding hairline. This morning, he seemed years older than he was."You're too smart for your own good."