Philip stepped out of the room and into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Scrolling down the list of phone numbers on his cell he finally came to Louise Jenkins. Her number rang several times before she finally picked up. “Good afternoon, Philip.” His feelings for her contained nuances and complications he preferred not to examine but hearing her voice lifted his spirits. To convey the intent of his call being of an official nature, he began it, “Judge Jenkins, I need your assistance in the Sir Reginald murder case.” He could hear her clearing her throat. There had been no contact since their last tryst a month ago and he expected well-chosen, hot-poker-words searing his eardrums. What made their relationship so dicey was that her husband was the Commissioner. Though he would describe her as pintsize physically, certainly against his broad shouldered six-foot-two frame, her legal prowess was akin to giant in stature. When she set her eyes on her opposition they trembled, a piece of art he had seen in many courtroom occasions. But for the moment there was only silence.
“Well?” she finally said, her voice monotone and businesslike. “What can I do for you, Deputy Commissioner?” She placed extra emphasis on ‘Deputy.’
“I need a warrant.”
She cleared her throat, more out of frustration than to dislodge anything. “You’ve been on the job long enough, Philip, to know to be specific.”
“A Conventional Warrant should suffice,” he replied. She had obviously placed her hand over her phone to muffle her conversation with someone.
“You do remember it must be exercised before 9 PM?”
“I do,” he replied. Her reminder was off-putting and bluntly annoying.
“What is the specific discreet location to be searched?” she asked.
“It’s a cardboard box that’s in open view in Susan Henderson’s bedroom.”
“What specific items are you searching for and why?”
“Diaries and related material. It’s believed they contain relevant material to Sir Reginald’s murder and the other murders on the premises.”
“Do you have proof of that? There’s not a bright-line rule here Philip, as I’m sure you know, of precisely what is and what is not probable cause. But what has become apparent is that a finding of probable cause requires objective facts. It can’t be based on hunches.”
“I know that.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I guess this is how she’s decided to punch back at me. “Look… Louise. Inspector Matthew Bigsley has drawn that necessary connection. All I ask is a little…no…a lot of trust here!” Silence like a lead curtain fell over the conversation smothering it. He could tell she was thinking it over.
“Do the diaries and relevant material belong to her?”
“Not exactly,” Philip replied.
“What in hell does that mean?!” she retorted.
“They belong to her twelve-year-old son, Alan… Alan Henderson.”
Silence again.
“I’ll have to get back to you,” she finally said.
“Louise, there is one other thing.”
“I’m listening.”
“The evidence in that cardboard box disappeared earlier. I don’t want that to happen again. Can we agree on a “telewarrant”? And I need it tout de suite.”
“Ten minutes you’ll know either way. Philip?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll owe me big if I decide to sign it and send it along to you.”
“I know.”
He sighed deeply and peered at his watch before he re-entered the room and regained his seat. He knew she would keep him dangling just out of spite. He hated being left on tenterhooks. And she knew it. Worse, he felt Matt’s questioning eyes peering at him. He managed a smile and continued to count off the seconds in his head.
“What’s going on between you two?” Susan asked. “A wee bit nervous now that you know my lawyer is on his way?” Her expression was smug and condescending.
“Not at all,” Matt replied. He shifted forward in his chair and, slightly hunched over, peered at her. “Maybe I should ask you what it is you’re so fearful of?” He thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of the table. “What I’m trying to figure out is why you won’t give us your consent to search through that box. It’s so unlike you, unlike the person I used to know. Unless…it contains incriminating material of some kind. Look, Susan, it’s only a matter of time before a warrant allows us to examine it. If it contains information that will help us solve these murders, and it can be proven that you knew it, you could be held as an acc…” He was distracted by Philip’s phone.
With a large beaming smile, Philip stood up and walked over to Susan. He thrust his phone in her face so that she could read its screen. “As you can see Ms. Henderson that is a warrant signed by Judge Jenkins giving us the right to not only search that box but the entirety of your room.”
“Please, hand me your phone. It’s too close for me to properly read it.”.
Philip transferred the phone to her and turned back toward Matt. “Go ahead.”
Matt stripped off the tape and opened its flaps and reached in. He thumbed through the first diary, then threw it aside and repeated with a second, third and fourth. Bullocks! He turned the box upside down and dumped them all on the table. “Did you know this?!” he asked, glaring at Susan, while he held up one of the books and fanned through the blank pages.
Defiantly, she stared back at him.
Then it dawned on him. She had been buying time. He ran across the room to the bedroom and forced the pocket doors apart, caterwauling them in place. “Where is he?! Where’s Alan?!” He knew by Susan’s demeanor that he was unlikely to obtain an answer. He pulled out his phone. “Sanjay. Is everyone I requested in the library?”
“No sir!”
“Who’s missing?”
“Isobella van der Helsing.”
“Anyone else?”
There was a nervous clearing of his throat before Sanjay answered. “Mark Dale.”
“I need to know where they’ve got to, Sanjay!” He put his phone in his pocket. Boiling with anger, he turned to face Susan. Rather than chance saying something that might make the situation more explosive, he nodded for Philip to take over. “I think it’s better I head downstairs to help Sanjay.”
When he had left the room, Philip took out his cuffs and laid them on the table between Susan and him. “Now tell me, how did the boy get out of this room without somebody seeing him?”