Shattered (Michael Bennett #14)(48)

Justice Steinberg turned to me just as I was glancing in his direction. His brown eyes showed no concern or apprehension. He just looked at me and said, “I wondered how close you’d try to come to me in here.”

My throat went dry. I could think of nothing to say. Then I blurted out, “So you know who I am?”

He chuckled. “Detective Bennett, at this point everyone in Washington, DC, knows who you are. It’s just that most people don’t realize what you are.”

“A homicide detective.”

The justice smiled and said, “I was thinking more along the lines of a giant pain in the ass.”





Chapter 62



Justice Steinberg and I squared off in the aisle. Faucet displays and toilet parts were our audience. When I say squared off, I mean it figuratively. We faced each other. Each assessing the other.

The justice was a hair under six feet tall. He had sort of that rugged outdoorsman look. It always went well with an Ivy League education. Not to mention the money his family had or the money he had married into. It looked like he was working just a little too hard at being a “regular guy.”

Steinberg smiled. “You may want to make this quick. My sister is meeting me here to look at kitchen appliances.” He made a show of looking up and down the empty aisle. Then he stared straight at me, a grin still on his face. “You’re familiar with my sister, Beth, aren’t you?”

His smile told me there were few secrets between the two of them. It also told me he didn’t care how physical she got with me. He impressed me as one of those jerks who thinks they’re better than everyone else and above the rules.

I tried to keep cool. “Yes, I’ve met your sister.” I rubbed my temple where she’d kicked me. “She makes quite the impression.”

He snorted and said, “You have no idea. She’s been like that since she was a kid. You know how embarrassing it is when your sister is suspended from high school for breaking the nose of the captain of the football team? Then there was the incident at Stanford. A swimmer got a little frisky with her at a party.” He paused and looked around for Beth again.

When he didn’t finish the story, I said, “I kinda want to know what happened to the swimmer.”

“Let’s put it this way: it was tough for him to compete for a few months while his dislocated shoulder and broken ribs healed.” The justice shook his head. “Stanford has a dedicated room in their business school with thirty state-of-the-art computers for students to use. That was my father’s gift. Basically, a thank-you for not kicking my sister out of school.”

“Did the swimmer bring any charges?” I followed the cop’s line of questioning.

Steinberg shook his head. “He knew he was in the wrong. If he had kept going and my sister had filed a complaint, he would’ve only gotten a slap on the wrist. I think this worked out better for everyone.”

We stood there for a moment in silence. I tried to break the ice by saying, “I’m impressed you recognized me.”

“The NYPD isn’t the only agency with briefings. You know the Supreme Court has its own police force. And they are definitely aware of you. Even though they say you’re no threat. At least physically. My sister confirms that.” He gave me another smile. This guy was not easily rattled.

“So what’s next for us?”

Steinberg kept his eyes on me. “You tell me. You’re the one stirring the shit.”

“And you’re the one living in it.”

“I don’t follow you, Detective.”

“You were having an affair with Emily Parker. It is not the first one you’ve had. Everyone in town knows about your antics. One person even called you a ‘wild child.’ That puts you at the center of a homicide investigation.”

“No, it puts me at the center of your homicide investigation. I’ve already told everything I know to the DC police and the FBI. I’m not a suspect for either of those agencies.”

“Did they know about your wild personal life? Or is that a fact you decided was not important enough to mention?”

“I didn’t tell them I dated two women at the same time in law school. Who are you? The morality police?”

Holy cow, he had a point. It made me pause for a moment. Then I regained my senses. “I couldn’t give a shit about your personal life. But it does give you a motive to kill Emily.”

Now his smile turned into a smirk. “How the hell do you figure that?”

“There are a thousand different ways I can see why you’d have a motive. Domestic violence has no single catalyst. Or, if I want to use a really simple theory, maybe you were afraid she could ruin your reputation.”

That brought a genuine guffaw. When he was done with this laugh, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, looked at me, and said, “I’m married to the daughter of the most investigated active senator in Congress. He was once photographed on a date with a model half his age while his wife was undergoing chemotherapy. That didn’t even ruin his reputation. The people of New York have elected him three times since his indiscretion. That’s not even considering the public Justice Department investigation on his scheme to get campaign money from every corporation in New York. The fact that the Department of Justice didn’t file charges rarely makes a difference in public opinion. But the people in New York like what he does, so they reelected him. I doubt my relationship with Emily would do anything to my reputation.”