Employee of the Year

Chapter 23 - The Test Drive

Saturday, June 15. Eleven days after the murder.

        It was beginning to feel like Groundhog Day. Less than two weeks since Roland’s murder and I’d lost count of the number of times the police had hauled me back in for more questions related to their investigation.

                The morning after I met with Chang and Weisbein, Martinez called me in once more. The Torrance police detective was wearing the same suit as the first day I met her. During that introduction she’d been soft and kind and apologetic. She was the good cop playing me against Elliot Kowalski’s bad cop persona. She was initially chasing a hunch that poor old Ned Santini might be a suspect in Roland’s death. The notion that Ned, a mild-mannered grandfather, would shoot Roland in cold blood was completely absurd. The rest of the theories that she and her partner had developed since then weren’t much better.

                This time around Martinez didn’t pretend to be friendly. She didn’t smile and make small talk like she was on my side in this thing. She and Kowalski had been working this case a long time, with nothing to show for it. I figured the pressure was getting to her.

                I remained surprised they didn’t just let this case die. Everyone who grows up in the city knows that most murders don’t get solved. If the cops can’t bring charges in the first forty-eight hours, they usually just give up. So why keep two detectives on this for so long? Why the big fuss about a call center worker getting shot in a parking lot?

                When we reached the station, Martinez removed a photo from a manila envelope and set it in front of me. It was a picture I knew very well. It was the picture of the pretty blonde girl with emerald eyes and the mole on her cheek: the same girl in the framed photo in the CEO’s office. The photo on Charlie’s desk. She was Charlie’s special secret project.

                “Who is she?” Martinez demanded.

                “I don’t know.”

                “You’re lying.”

                I knew she was in a bad mood, but I was still surprised that she’d come right out and accuse me like this. I wondered if it was a crime to lie to the police if they’d brought me in without charging me. Of course it would tip my hand if I asked her, so I kept my mouth shut. I squinted at the picture in front of me, ignoring her angry glare.

                “I’m sorry, detective, but I don’t recognize this woman. She’s very pretty. Is she an actress from TV or something?”

                “Don’t try to be funny.”

                “I’m not. Detective, I want to help. I’ve cooperated every time you asked. I want you to solve this crime. Why would I lie?”

                Martinez sighed heavily. She was trying to read me and she couldn’t. The way she bowed her head with resignation, I knew my bluff had worked. She doubted her instincts. This case had worn down her confidence. Chasing down so many dead ends had left her exhausted.

 “Sorry I couldn’t help,” I said, getting up to leave. She didn’t stop me.

“Temo,” she called. “If I find out you know this woman...”

“You still think I’m lying? You know me, Martinez. I am cursed with the bad habit of being honest. I couldn’t tell a convincing lie if my life depended on it.”

                This was all bullshit of course. I was lying through my teeth about the girl. I had Martinez completely duped. And I was lying precisely because my life depended on it.