Hardy had the impression he was trying to decide if he should say any more and thought he could help him along. "That's a lot of disclaimer you're throwing around. Originally. Basically. Do you have some doubts yourself? Is that why you're digging here?"
Bracco's mouth pursed as he continued to wrestle with whatever it was. "It was their rope, she slung it over a beam in the garage, got up on a little step-up ladder, and dropped off."
"But…?"
Noticing that his coffee was finished, Bracco came forward in his chair and put the cup and saucer on the low table in front of him. Now he looked straight across at Hardy. "None of this worried me too much at the time, you understand. I had three other actives. This one went to the coroner and went away in a couple of days. It wasn't until Jenna called me back a few days ago that I looked at it again."
"And?"
"And her neck was broken." He paused, then made his point more clearly. "Regular slipknot, no hangman's noose, fifteen-inch fall."
"You're thinking she should have strangled."
"Most people, those same conditions, that's what happens."
"But not always? Did you ask Strout?" This was the city's medical examiner, who'd ruled the death a suicide.
"He says he's seen a few where the fall and the weight breaks the neck."
"Well, there you go."
"Nobody who weighed as little as she did, though. A hundred and five pounds." Hardy made no response; by itself this was interesting, certainly, but not conclusive. "And then," Bracco went on, "there was the other thing Jenna didn't think about originally, but remembers now."
"What was that?"
"That her mother had decided that Charlie didn't just disappear. That he'd been killed."
"Someone in her position," Hardy said, "that could easily be wishful thinking. That he didn't leave her, he was taken from her instead. Big psychological difference."
"Yeah," Bracco said, "but the main thing is that Jenna says her mom was on a mission to find out who killed her dad and wouldn't have killed herself in the middle of it."
"Maybe she got to the end and found he'd really run out on her."
"I said the same thing to Jenna. She totally disagreed. If her mom would have found that out, even then if she decided to kill herself, she would have left a note for Jenna so at least her daughter would know the truth."
A short silence settled between the two men. "You're saying you think it's not impossible somebody killed Mrs. Bowen."
"It's not the kind of thing I'd try to sell to Glitsky. Not on what I've got now."
"You got a motive?"
"You probably won't love it."
"Try me."
"Somebody-the same person-killed the husband, too, and Hanna got too close to finding out."
Hardy shook his head, suppressed the start of a smile. "A bona fide conspiracy theory. You're right, that would be a tough sell to Glitsky."
"That's why I'd like to find that diary. It would be something real."
Hardy thought that even if it existed, it still would be considerably less than a smoking gun. Stealing a quick glance at his watch, he decided he'd given Bracco enough time and a good listen. Bracco didn't wear a wedding ring, and Hardy wouldn't be at all surprised to find out that the daughter, Jenna Bowen, was a pretty young thing. As for him, it was time to get back to work. He started to get up.
But Bracco suddenly came forward. "Anyway, the reason I wanted to see you in person. I'm just saying there might be something else in those files."
"Some reason Bowen might have been killed, you mean?"
"Right."
This time, Hardy let his grin blossom. "You know how many big moving boxes we're talking about here, Inspector? Something like forty-five or fifty to go. Last time I checked, when he disappeared Charlie Bowen was covering two hundred and thirty-two active files, of which we've offloaded about eighty so far." He softened his tone. "Which is not to say we won't come upon something that looks fishy somewhere down the line, and if we do, I promise you'll hear from us. From me. But I think you're talking the original needle in a haystack."
Chagrined, Bracco sat back and nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. Well…" He pushed himself up to his feet.
Hardy, rising himself, said, "If you get anything specific attached to some probable cause, you could always subpoena the files and have a special master go through them."
"I could do that, but I don't have any idea what I'm looking for."
"Well, there's that." Hardy brightened. "Except the diary."
"Right. Except the diary."
"I'll get somebody working on that before you hit the street."
"I appreciate that," Bracco said, extending his hand. "Thanks again for your time."
Hardy nodded. "And we find anything on the other matter, you'll be the first to know. But as I told Glitsky, I wouldn't hold my breath on any of this."
Bracco broke a small smile. "I never do."
HARDY HAD A SPY in Redwood City.
