Blindman’s Bluff. Faye Kellerman

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knows the alarm code besides the family?

      6 Who was the first one to realize that Gil Kaffey wasn’t dead?

      7 And, finally, why didn’t the murderers make sure that Kaffey was dead?

      There were housekeepers, guardhouse guards, mansion guards, a groundskeeper, a groomer, Piet Kotsky, and Neptune Brady. And this was Guy Kaffey’s personal staff. Decker could only imagine how complicated it would get when he got into the business—a corporation that employed thousands. The manpower devoted to such a high-profile case would be staggering. In his mind, he saw a bursting case file filled with a forest’s worth of felled trees. In recent months, their substation had started using paper from recycled pulp.

      Go green.

      Better than red: the predominant color of the evening.

       THREE

      THE TWO VOICES were deep and demanding. From the back, Decker noticed the bald guy first, garbed in loose-fitting chinos and a bomber jacket. He was thick necked and broad shouldered and appeared to be packing around 250 pounds of pure muscle. His companion had a head of thick black hair and wore gray slacks and a blue blazer. He was taller and leaner but also powerfully built. If they were football players, one would have been a tackle, the other a quarterback.

      From the snippets of conversation, they appeared to be irate at the police. First they had been stopped like common criminals at the off-ramp, grilled like they’d done something wrong. And now Marge was refusing to let them see the crime scene. Though his favorite sergeant didn’t require help, Decker went over to investigate.

      Marge made quick introductions: Piet Kotsky and then Neptune Brady. Kotsky was flushed, with sweat dripping off a protruding forehead. His eyes were big and deep-set, and his skin was tightly drawn over prominent cheekbones. His complexion was jaundice in color—the hue of mummified skin.

      Brady was younger, in his early to mid thirties. His lean face had spent a lot of hours in the tanning salon. He had pale blue eyes, thick lips, and tightly curled dark hair. His arms were folded across his chest, his hands big and adorned with several gold rings. His chin jutted forward when he spoke. “Are you in charge?” Without waiting for a response, he said, “What the fuck happened?”

      Decker said, “We’re still gathering information—”

      “Do you know it took me about twenty minutes just to convince the idiots at the off-ramp that I actually had a reason to be at the ranch! Don’t you guys communicate with one another?”

      Decker took a step backward, giving them both some space. “What can I do for you, Mr. Brady?”

      “For starters, how about some answers?”

      “As soon as I have them, I’ll pass them along. I’d like to ask you some questions.” He turned to Marge. “Why don’t you take Mr. Kotsky to one of the studies and interview him there, Sergeant.”

      “What is this?” Brady’s nostrils flared. “Divide and conquer?”

      “We’re not the enemy, Mr. Brady. And I need information.” Decker checked off items on his fingers. “We need a list of everyone who works at the house either full- or part-time. How many people are in the house at night at any one time? Who was supposed to be working last night? Who lives on the properties? Who lives off the properties? How long has each employee been working for the Kaffeys? Who has access keys? Alarm codes? Who hires? Who fires? Mundane information like that.”

      Brady shuffled his feet. “I can help you. First, I’d like to see what happened.”

      Marge said, “Mr. Kotsky, why don’t you come with me and let Lieutenant Decker and Mr. Brady conduct their business.”

      Kotsky looked at Brady, who nodded. “Okay. Go into the east study.”

      Marge said, “Where’s that on the map?”

      “Piet will show you.”

      After they had gone, Brady said, “I need to see what happened.”

      “No one sees the victims unless it’s been cleared by the coroner’s investigators. We’re in charge of the death scene, but they’re in charge of the bodies.”

      “Bureaucracy!” Brady spat out. “No wonder the police don’t get anything done.”

      Decker stared at him. “We get things done, but because we want to do them right, we’re careful. Do you think Mr. Kaffey would let anyone inside the boardroom at his company just for the asking?”

      Brady said, “The difference is I’m a taxpayer and I pay your salary.”

      Decker managed to keep a flat face. “Mr. Brady, you’re not going anywhere any time soon because you have to wait for the family. So rather than twiddle your thumbs and be irritated, you might as well cooperate. You’d look a less suspicious in my eyes if you did.”

      “You suspect me?” When Decker didn’t answer, Brady said, “I was hundreds of miles away.” When Decker still didn’t respond, Brady grew irate. “I’ve worked for Mr. Kaffey for years. I don’t need this shit!”

      “Sir, anyone who has had anything to do with the Kaffeys is a potential suspect right now. That’s just the nature of the beast. If I didn’t have a suspicious mind, I’d be a very bad detective.”

      Brady clenched his fists, and then slowly let his fingers relax. “I’m still in a state of shock.”

      “I’m sure you are.”

      “You have no idea…” His voice dropped a few notches. “I was in the middle of dealing with my own father’s heart attack. Now I have to deal with the remaining family members. Do you know how fucking dreadful it was to make that phone call to Grant Kaffey? To tell him that his parents and brother are dead?”

      Decker regarded the man. “Gil Kaffey’s in the hospital, sir. He isn’t dead.”

      “What?” Brady’s eyes got wide. “Riley Karns told me he was dead.” After an awkward pause, he muttered out loud, “Thank God for that.” A cynical laugh. “Now the family’s going to think that I’m a fucking moron!”

      “Why don’t you let me deal with the family?”

      “The family’s safety was my concern and I fucked up.” His eyes suddenly pooled with tears. “I didn’t have anything to do with this, but you’re right to suspect everyone. What do you want to know?”

      “For starters, how does your security work?”

      “It doesn’t, obviously.” Brady bit his lip hard. “This is going to take a while.”

      “How about we find a private room and you can explain it to me.”

      “I can manage a room,” Brady told him. “Lord knows there’re enough of them—and then some.”

      THE SPOON WAS going around and around in the cereal bowl. Hannah

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