10

Healy hiked his pants up at the knee when he sat, to keep the crease. He had on a tan poplin suit and a coffee-colored snap-brim straw hat with a wide brown headband. His plain-toed cordovan shoes gleamed with polish.

“On my way home,” Healy said. “Thought I’d stop in, see what’s happening with your floater.”

Jesse pointed over his shoulder at the photo.

“That her?” Healy said.

A blowup of Florence Horvath’s driver’s license was stuck on a cork board to the left of the window behind Jesse’s desk.

“That’s her, Captain,” Jesse said. “Florence Horvath, thirty-four years old, address in Fort Lauderdale. She had her teeth cleaned a month ago and charged it on her credit card. We called the dentist, got the dental records, forensic people compared them.”

“You’re lucky,” Healy said. “Lot of floaters are such a mess we never do figure out who they are.”

“Got nothing to do with luck,” Jesse said.

“Right,” Healy said. “It was crack police work that some guy walked in and handed you her driver’s license and credit card.”

“And,” Jesse said, “we didn’t lose them.”

“Got me there,” Healy said. “Now that you know who she is, do you know why she’s up here?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m only a state police captain,” Healy said, “not a chief of police, like you, but since you found her in the water and since this is Race Week, could there be a connection?”

“I got a couple of people checking the yachts in the harbor, see if any of them are out of Fort Lauderdale.”

“Or even docked there in the last three weeks,” Healy said.

“If she came on a yacht.”

“If,” Healy said. “How about the airlines?”

“No Florence Horvath on any of them.”

“Not just from Florida,” Healy said.

“From anywhere,” Jesse said.

“Molly been working her ass off,” Healy said. “How about a car.”

“Nope.”

“Rental car?”

“None of the big agencies, at least, have her in the computer,” Jesse said. “We haven’t gotten to the Rent-a-Lemon yet.”

“Nothing on her credit card to indicate a rental.”

“Could have several credit cards.”

“True.”

“Hotels?” Healy said.

“What is this,” Jesse said, “a quiz?”

“Trying to learn police work,” Healy said.

“She’s not registered in any of the area hotels.”

“Including Boston?”

“Including Boston.”

“Anybody in town she might be visiting?” Healy said.

“One family named Horvath. I called them. They never heard of her.”

“Doesn’t mean they didn’t kill her.”

“We don’t know if anyone killed her,” Jesse said. “Could just as well be an accident for all the forensics we got.”

“Sure,” Healy said. “She fell overboard and drowned and no one noticed.”

“For all we know,” Jesse said, “she fell off the Queen Elizabeth on her way to Liverpool and the currents brought her in.”

“You think so?” Healy said.

“No,” Jesse said.

“Usually when someone is missing for the length of time she was in the water,” Healy said, “somebody wonders where she is.”

“That’s true whether it’s murder or not,” Jesse said.

“But if she were traveling, and the only person who knew her was the person she was traveling with, and that person killed her…” Healy rolled his hand.

Jesse leaned back in his swivel chair and grinned at Healy.

“It was a quiz, and we both aced it,” Jesse said. “Sure, I’m with you. I think she was murdered.”

“But you have no proof,” Healy said.

“Hell no,” Jesse said. “Not yet.”

“She might have arrived by bus,” Healy said.

“Yeah, and she might have hitchhiked. I got twelve people in this department including me. We’re dancing as fast as we can dance.”

Healy smiled.

“You got a homicide. I’m the commanding officer of the state homicide unit.”

“So you’re offering to help?”

“I am.”

“Never too big to give the little guy a hand,” Jesse said.

“Exactly,” Healy said.

“Just as long as we’re clear on whose case it is.”

“It belongs to all of us,” Healy said, “who love truth and justice.”

“Like hell,” Jesse said. “It belongs to me.”

“Oh,” Healy said. He shrugged. “Okay.”