Page 45 of The Perfect People

“Agreed,” Jessie added, walking deliberately toward the squeaky door, opening it, and then letting it close again. After ten seconds, two feet appeared, stepping down from the toilet seat in the last stall at the far end of the bathroom. They heard a click and the stall door opened outward.

Susannah, closer to it, barreled forward. Currie must have heard her coming because he tried to pull it shut again. As he yanked it closed, she tried to pry it open.

“Wait!” Jessie yelled, worried that her partner was opening herself up to a clear shot from Currie once the metal door was wide open. But it was too late.

Before she could move to help, Susannah ripped the door open. It hit the wall so hard that it appeared it might break off at its hinges. Her gun went flying from her hand, landing under the row of sinks. She ignored it and made a move toward the stall before stopping in her tracks.

No!” she shouted.

Jessie, her heart beating fast, hurried forward, gun raised, just in time to see the detective get splashed with water. She looked into the stall, where Cyril Currie’s hands were cupped in the bowl, after having apparently tossed toilet water onto Susannah Valentine. He started to raise them a second time. Jessie pointed her gun at him.

“So help me god, if you toss that water on me, I will shoot you in the kneecap.”

The man froze, his hands just shy of emerging from the bowl.

“Let it drain from your hands,” she ordered.

He did as he was told. Next to her, Susannah was moaning, more in disgust than anger.

“Step out of the stall,” Jessie instructed. “Keep your hands extended at your sides,wayout at your sides. Can you search him, Detective Valentine?”

“I guess,” she said, like a teenager who’d been asked to wash the dishes. When she was done, she said, “All clean—not literally, obviously.”

“Wash your hands,” Jessie told Currie.

As he did, she looked him over. The man was wearing a navy sweater vest over a powder blue dress shirt, along with tan slacks and black loafers. That was seriously committed bank attire for a summer afternoon. She got the sense that Cyril Currie was wound pretty tight.

“Cyril Currie,” she said. “Your work day is over. My wet colleague here is going to read you your rights. Then we’re going to take you back to the police station to ask you a few questions. Do you understand?”

Currie nodded silently. She wasn’t entirely sure that he grasped the magnitude of the situation and decided to make it clear for him.

“If you have satisfactory answers for us, today will just prove to be embarrassing for you. If you don’t, this will be the end of your life as you know it. Either way, here’s some advice for you: when she’s arresting you, I wouldn’t do anything else to piss off Detective Valentine. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes,” Currie said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Despite his acquiescence, Jessie stayed close by as Susannah took him into custody, just in case her partner lost her cool and tried to drown him in the toilet bowl.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

“Let me go at him one more time!”

Jessie shook her head, hoping that by staying calm, she could somehow settle Susannah down too.

“There’s no point,” she insisted. “I get that you’re upset. But going back in there again won’t change the facts.”

“You don’t get it, Jessie,” Susannah insisted. “I’ve been frickin’ interrogating that bastard while wearing toilet water clothes. It can’t have been for nothing.”

Jessie knew that her partner wasn’t really upset about clothes. Or at least that they weren’t the main source of her frustration. She was upset that if Cyril Currie’s alibi held up, as it looked like it was going to, their last good lead was about to go up in smoke when they were only hours away from more house parties getting under way.

“Idoget it,” Jessie assured her. “This guy is a total pervert. It’s clear to me, just from the way that he deflected during the interview, that he was the one peering into those homes a few years back. And it’s frustrating that he’s walking around consequence-free. But for the time being, there’s not much we can do about that. And based on the evidence that he’s willingly given us from his phone, he was in San Diego for work training until yesterday evening. That eliminates him in the Shasta Mallory killing and makes him very unlikely to be responsible for the Nicole Boyce murder.”

“Damn it,” Susannah grumbled. “I thought we finally caught a break.”

“I know,” Jessie said. “Listen, Timms is still in there with him. Why don’t we let him finish up with the guy. You can change out of your toilet clothes, take a shower, and we’ll start fresh. In retrospect, it looks like itwasa good idea for you to bring that change of clothes after all.”

Jessie grinned broadly, hoping her partner would take the comment in the spirit it was intended.

“How long have you been waiting to bust that one out?” Susannah asked, trying not to smile.

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