Page 68 of Dead Man's List

Navarro sat back with a grim smile. “Get the PI’s name, Robinson.”

That, Kit thought, might be asking too much. “We might be able to find his name on her phone. Having confirmation that she was working with a PI is good, though.”

“I mean,” Connor was saying casually, “everyone knows that Munro wasn’t the type to pry secrets out of powerful people. Movers and shakers, our source said. But Munro was a sleazy man. I’m surprised anyone stuck with him for more than a few weeks. You were his lover for fifteen years.” He said it like he was truly impressed. “Everyone in city hall knows you two were going at it like rabbits, by the way, so nobody will be surprised. What does surprise me is that you’d let the person who didthisto the man you’ve slept with for fifteen years go free.”

He opened the folder and spread the photos across the table. Veronica gagged, but nothing came up.

“Really, Detective,” Laura snapped, turning the photos over.

“Stop,” Connor commanded, his tone suddenly hostile and aggressive. “Lookat these, Veronica. Look at what theydidto him. They stabbed himtwenty-fivetimes. They cut off his fingers and toes. And they mauled the hell out of his dick.” Connor rose from his chair, leaning across the table to dangle the photo ofMunro’s mutilated genitalia in front of Veronica’s face.“I. Said. Look.”

Veronica looked, her eyes frozen on the photo as what color was left in her face drained away. She then curled into herself on a ragged sob.

If Kit didn’t dislike her so much, she might feel sorry for her.

“Don’t you want to know who did this?” Connor demanded. Laura urgently called her client’s name, but Connor shouted over her. “He felt every one of these brutalities, Veronica. Every single one. Theyhurthim. The man you loved wastortured. Over and over and over again. Don’t you want whoever hurt him to pay?”

“Yes,” Veronica cried on a strangled gasp. “I wantthemto pay. But I don’t know whotheyare.”

“You know who’s on the list,” Connor countered coldly, his pleasant facade no more.

Veronica shook her head. “I don’t. I managed the money. That’s all.”

Laura sighed. “We’ll want to talk a deal with the prosecutor.”

Connor sank into his seat. He slid the photos back in the folder. “That’s not up to me. Where did you think he’d put the list, Veronica?”

“It was supposed to be in his house. In his study. I looked in his study, but it wasn’t there. Thenshecame home and I couldn’t look anymore. I searched the office at city hall, but it wasn’t there either, and then it got sealed off by you people and I couldn’t look anymore.”

“She” would be Wilhelmina, Kit thought. She wondered if Wilhelmina suspected that Munro’s home office had been searched. It didn’t seem like it had been searched when Kit and Connor had been there on Saturday night. Not a paper was out of place.

Either Veronica was a neatnik or Wilhelmina—or someone else—had altered the scene. They’d had CSU go over every inchof that study and hadn’t found any prints that didn’t belong to Munro himself. They’d search again, but Kit didn’t think they’d find the list. It was likely that whoever had tortured Munro had gleaned the location of the list and had taken it for themselves.

But why? How did they plan to use the information? How did they even know the list existed to begin with?

Connor’s voice had settled back to calm, but there was no more pleasantry. “Are we looking for an electronic file or a piece of paper?”

“A notebook,” Veronica said. “In a three-ring binder. It wasn’t online. Brooks didn’t trust that he wouldn’t be hacked. I never saw the contents. The PI never saw the payments. I never even knew the PI’s name.”

Connor regarded her in silence for a moment before asking, “Was it Jacob Crocker?”

Veronica’s shock was apparent. “No.”

“Who’s Crocker?” Joel asked.

“PI to William Weaver,” Kit said, “the guy whose life Munro ruined over a council seat. Crocker’s dead. Shot while on a stakeout for another client, according to Weaver. We wondered if Munro had anything to do with that because Weaver was about to hire Crocker again. I guess we have the answer to that question. Veronica knows exactly who Jacob Crocker was.”

“Okay,” Connor was saying evenly. “So you never saw the names. Clearly Brooks knew who they were, as did the PI since he was the one who dug up the dirt to begin with. What was your role?”

“I handled the payments and kept the money straight. Told Brooks who wasn’t paying on time. I don’t know what he did with that information.”

“That’s a lie,” Kit said. “Or at least Ronald Tasker thought so. He thought Munro and Fitzgerald sent him the compromisingphotos of his wife as retaliation for nonpayment. They wanted Tasker to blow up, goading her to report his illegal dealings to the police. Which Tasker’s wife knew about because Munro and Fitzgerald told her about them. At least that was Tasker’s take.”

“He blew up all right,” Navarro muttered.

“I don’t know if they expected Tasker to murder his wifeandchop her into pieces,” Kit said dryly.

“Hush,” Joel said, because Veronica was still talking.

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