“Well, what?” Langdon replied as he savoured his first spoonful of the chowder. I wondered if he was retreating into a defensive shell and this interview had all but ended.
“Well, was there any evidence to suggest how much earlier Vickie had been raped?” I repeated.
“Yeah, the forensics came back and indicated that she had engaged in sexual activity sometime during the five to eight hours prior to her death. No one said raped. There was no evidence to support a rape—we call it sexual assault now—charge. But there was enough to know that she was screwed sometime before she got fucked up. Remember, she wasn’t a real fresh puppy when we found her. Hard to be too much more exact.”
Mia flinched at the insensitivity. I hurried on, “What about any evidence of physical trauma aside from what you might find with strangulation?”
“You’re a regular Amazing fucking Kreskin aren’t you pal? Are you sure you didn’t do it”
“Sorry, still in Canada at the time. What did you get?”
“The victim had suffered a significant blow to the back of the head. Not enough to kill her, but enough to turn out her lights for a little while.”
“Thanks sergeant,” I said sincerely hoping a little polite brown nosing at this stage would keep him feeding us the information we wanted. “Is there any chance you kept your case file notes, and we could get to go through them?”
Langdon looked up as he pushed the empty chowder bowl away from in front of him. He was about to say something when the waitress arrived with the rest of our order—smiles all around. Assurances given that everything was fine. We were alone in our world again.
“Maybe I need to hear more about what the fuck you think you’re doing here,” Langdon grumped as he splashed Heinz 57 steak sauce all over his meal. “Cause I’m not saying another friggin’ word until I know exactly what it is you think you’re up to.”
“I thought Mia made that pretty clear when she phoned you,” I replied shortly.
“Yeah, well, I was a bit in the bag at the time, so refresh my memory.”
This seemed to be the time for Mia to use her female wiles, so I gave her a quick nudge. She took the hint and did everything except bat her eyelashes, flash her boobs, and call the guy a big stud muffin. She explained why we had wanted to talk with him and what it was she had asked me to do.
Given everything he had already told us, Langdon suddenly became more like the hard sell I thought he was going to be from the very start. For obvious reasons, the request that he share his personal notes on the crime had raised a danger signal. He was re-trenching. We weren’t going to get much more from him. I mean if he threw his personal notes out, that was one thing. If he turned them over to the guy who replaced him in the investigation or left them in the official file, that was another. We ate in silence while he weighed his options. The food was excellent for what it was, but I doubt that Mia tasted her meal any more than I did mine. I listened carefully to her as she made her pitch for Langdon’s help.
As I sat there listening to Mia, I found myself surprised at the degree to which I had bought into this quixotic joust at forgotten windmills. Langdon was patiently trying to explain to Mia the odds on finding Vickie’s killer.
“Listen kid, after so much time has passed, the likelihood of finding the scumbag who killed your sister are slim and nil,” Langdon said shaking his head like it was an apology. I believe he was sorry that she couldn’t accept the truth.
I found myself agreeing with the old cop. I was still betting on nil myself.
“Okay,” Langdon said looking squarely at Mia. She appeared about ready to start crying. “I’m not buying this horseshit about you just checking to see if anything more can be done to find the killer. I know you and junior ranger here are going to try to solve this thing. And, you know what Missy? I can understand that. If my brother got whacked, I’d want to get the slime ball that did it too. So here’s the deal. Let me try to find my old notes and think about what else I can do to help out. You go off with Joey Junior here and play detective and house for a little while. If you can find even one new thing that I don’t got in my notes, I’ll try to help you. And that’s a promise. Phone me—no better yet—meet me here in another two days for lunch—your treat. If you don’t show up, I’ll figure you got smart and gave up, and I’ll have a beer and go home and forget all about this just like you should do right now. Is that fair?”
Mia nodded agreement. I sat there wondering if it was the prospect of Mia’s tears that had softened the old curmudgeon finally or if maybe there was something else. I didn’t see Langdon as Mr. Sensitive, so there had to be something else.
Lunch was over. Langdon pushed back from the table and extended his gnarly hand first to Mia and then to me—a normal handshake. Our eyes locked. He smiled. “You remind me of someone I once knew Sunshine. Me, when I was a kid. Take care of the little girl here. Thanks for lunch. Maybe I’ll see you in two days.”
I couldn’t help but check out his shoes as he walked away from us. I smiled. He was wearing the thick-soled lace up black leather variety I expected. Once a cop always a cop, and Langdon was definitely that.
I picked up the bill and left a nice tip—not quite as nice as I usually left Mia at IHOP—a guy can’t be too careful. Langdon’s meal had cost more than twice as much as my lunch and Mia’s together. No wonder he was willing to meet us here for lunch in two days—your treat—my ass.