“That’s okay, he never mentioned you either,” Fiske replied.
Perkins’s office was right off the hallway leading to the courtroom. It was furnished in an old-fashioned colonial style, the architecture and craftsmanship from an era of government unburdened with trillion-dollar national debts and budgets awash in red.
At a side table of Perkins’s office sat a man in his late forties. His blond hair was cut very short, and his long narrow face carried an unshakable air of authority. His self-assured manner suggested that he enjoyed the exercise of that authority. When he rose, Fiske noted that he was well over six feet tall and looked as though he spent regular time in the gym.
“Detective Chandler?” The man extended one hand and with the other flashed his identification card. “FBI Special Agent Warren McKenna.”
Chandler looked at Perkins. “I wasn’t aware that the Bureau had been brought in on this.”
Perkins started to say something, but McKenna said briskly, “As I’m sure you know, the attorney general and the FBI have the legal right to fully investigate the murder of any person employed by the United States government. However, the Bureau is not looking to take over the investigation or step on your toes.”
“That’s good, because even the tiniest bit of unwanted pressure and I just go nuts.” Chandler smiled.
McKenna’s expression remained unchanged. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
Fiske held out his hand. “John Fiske, Agent McKenna. Michael Fiske was my brother.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Fiske. I know it must be damn tough for you,” McKenna said, shaking his hand. The FBI agent focused again on Chandler. “If conditions dictate a more active role for the Bureau, then we would expect your full cooperation. Remember that the victim was a federal employee.” He looked around the room. “Employed by one of the most revered institutions in the world. And perhaps one of the most feared.”
“Fear out of ignorance,” Perkins pointed out.
“But feared nonetheless. After Waco, the World Trade Center and Oklahoma City, we’ve learned to be extra careful,” McKenna said.
“Too bad you people weren’t faster learners,” Chandler said dryly. “But turf battles are big wastes of time. I do believe in share and share alike, though, okay?”
“Of course,” McKenna said.
Chandler asked a half hour’s worth of questions, trying basically to establish if any case Michael Fiske had been working on at the Court could have led to his murder. The same answer kept coming back to him from each of the Court representatives: “Impossible.”
McKenna asked very few questions but listened intently to the ones asked by Chandler.
“The precise details of cases pending before the Court are so well insulated from the public that there would be no way anyone could know what a specific clerk is or isn’t working on.” Perkins smacked the tabletop with his palm to emphasize the point.
“Unless that clerk told someone.”
Perkins shook his head. “I personally run them through the drill on security and confidentiality as part of their orientation. The ethical rules which apply to them are very stringent. They’re even provided with a handbook on the subject. No leaks are permitted.”
Chandler looked unconvinced. “What’s the average age of the clerks here? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?”
“Something like that.”
“They’re kids, working at the highest court in the land. You telling me that it’s impossible that they might let something slip? Not even to impress a date?”
“I’ve been around long enough to know better than to use the word impossible to ever describe anything.”
“I’m a homicide detective, Mr. Perkins, and believe you me, I got the same damn problem.”
“Could we back up to square one here?”Dellasandro said. “From what I know about the case, it seemed that robbery was the motive.” He spread his hands and looked expectantly at Chandler. “How does that involve the Court? Have you searched his apartment yet?”
“Not yet. I’m sending a team over tomorrow.”
“How do we know it’s not something connected to his personal life?” Dellasandro asked.
Everyone looked at Chandler for an answer. The detective glanced down at his notes without really focusing on them. “I’m just covering all the bases. Going to a homicide victim’s place of work and asking questions is not even remotely unusual, gentlemen.”