The Fregoli Delusion Read Online Free Page A

investigator, but Detective Stainer will be
doing a lot of the work, and we’ll need others to help as well, running down
leads, collecting evidence, taking statements.”
    “I understand. Thank you, Hank.”
She sighed. “Please bear in mind that Brett’s actually a very gentle and
kindhearted young man. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s just … different. You’ll
have to take what he says with a grain of salt.”
    “Detective Stainer found him
pretty difficult to deal with this morning.”
    “It’s because of his disability,”
Constance said.
    “Disability?”
    “I’ll let Walter explain it,” she
said. “Brett’s my grandson, but Walter’s been the one who’s had to manage
things on a daily basis. Just don’t judge the boy until you understand.”

 
    3
    Hank stepped out of the elevator
onto the ninth floor and turned left, passing the cubbyholes assigned to the
Arson Unit, and on into the larger open space assigned to Homicide. Along the
wall on the right were filing cabinets, a gun locker, a coffee machine that
dispensed poison in brown paper cups, a pigeon-hole mailbox, and a networked
printer and fax machine. Along the wall on the left were the captain’s office,
more filing cabinets, and the office of the supervising lieutenant which had,
until a month ago, been occupied by Bill Jarvis. Now it belonged once again to
Hank as it had before, several years ago.
    In the middle of the open space
was the cluster of desks, arranged in pairs back-to-back, that served as the
detectives’ bullpen. As Hank skirted the bullpen on his way to his office,
Detective Jim Horvath hurried toward him, putting on his jacket.
    “Home invasion, Hank. Chinatown.
Peralta’s waiting for me downstairs.”
    Horvath was in his early thirties,
tall and slender, with a handsome, pleasant face and neatly combed straight
black hair. He’d been with Homicide for almost two years now and was showing an
aptitude for the job. His partner, Detective Amelda Peralta, was more
experienced, less chatty, and a stickler for procedure. She didn’t mind
explaining to Horvath his shortcomings when it came to homicide investigation
and Horvath, to his credit, took it with good humor.
    Hank frowned. “Won’t Jarvis be
there?”
    “I guess, but they called us,
too.”
    Hank rolled his eyes. “No love
from the watch sergeants, either? Poor Bill.”
    “Yeah, he’s a poor dickhead, all
right. Anyway, they want us over there. Maybe to keep a uniform from fragging him.”
    “Maybe. Give me a call if he isn’t
there and you need me.”
    “You got it.” Feeling under his
jacket to double-check for his sidearm, Horvath hurried off to the elevator.
    The other two detectives assigned
to Homicide, Kaplan and Belknap, were currently off-duty. Hank was looking for
some sign of Karen, but instead he saw Detective Maureen Truly loitering
outside his office door. She moved aside self-consciously as he approached and
unlocked his door.
    “Hello, Detective. How are you
doing?”
    “I’m well, Lieutenant. You said I
could drop by, so I thought today might be okay. If, um, it’s okay.”
    Truly worked in the Cold Case
Unit. She was thirty-one years old, single, short and lumpy, with wavy brown
hair and unflattering glasses with narrow red frames. When she’d learned last
month that Jarvis was leaving and that Hank was replacing him as supervisory
lieutenant, she’d approached him about a transfer to Homicide. He said they
couldn’t bring in anyone new at the moment, but she was welcome to come up and
talk to him about it further, if she liked. He didn’t think she had the right
temperament for Homicide, but there was something about her that he liked, and
he wanted to find out what it was.
    Unfortunately, she’d picked a bad
time to show up for a job interview.
    “Lou! Hang on a sec!”
    Hank turned, his office door
swinging open. Karen was coming up the corridor from the interview room with
Walter Parris a few steps behind.
    “Excuse me,”