"So you can have it here sometime this week and all I need to do is fill it out, then find somebody high enough up to sign it?" Devetko was saying, and held up a finger in a Hold on a moment gesture when Kristeva tilted his head. "And then I sit and wait," he added, and paused. "Any idea how long that should take?" He made a face at the answer. "All right...just send it along, please, and I'll get it signed and sent back in. Thank you. Have a good day." He hung up, cast a foul look (or was it just a normal look?) at his computer, then turned back to Kristeva, speaking up before Kristeva could ask what that was all about.
"So I spoke with Cheryl Singer this morning, since I figured you'd be busy."
"She called--?"
"No, I called her. I think it's kind of an oversight that none of us thought of showing her the necklace found with those unidentified remains, to see if she could identify it or not."
Kristeva's brow furrowed, then he made a slight face. "I guess that's an understatement...how did you even get hold of the necklace? Hasn't it been entered into evidence yet?"
"Not yet. I asked Dr. Steiner nicely if I could borrow it as long as it remained in an evidence bag. I brought it back to him when I was done."
"What exactly did you ask Cheryl and what did she have to say about it?"
"I said I'm working her uncle's case with you and had an item possibly related to the case. I let her know we can't prove without a doubt that it's directly tied to the remains we found, or that the remains are those of her uncle, but she seemed to understand that. As soon as I gave her the bag she recognized it. Said it's the same necklace her uncle wore all the time when he was alive, that he'd told her once it's called a mandala, and that it means 'whole, everything working together, all in one piece.' I asked if it was possible if there was more than one necklace like that and she said she was positive it was his." He gestured toward Kristeva. "I'd say take this with a grain of salt, though, considering that you've been wearing the exact same thing around your neck the entire time I've been working here."
Kristeva blinked and looked down, out of reflex; the little mandala glinted back up at him. He tucked it inside his shirt.
"Well, it's as good an ID as we can get at this time, though nothing that'd hold up in a court or anything."
"There was something else."
"Oh?"
Devetko just stared back at him for a moment or so, tapping a pen on the desk, as if waiting to see if he'd offer anything first. Kristeva just gave him the dumbest look he could muster, which wasn't that difficult at the moment.
Before the silence could grow to awkward proportions, Devetko tossed the pen into a cup and reached down to open one of the desk drawers. "Ms. Singer asked if you had any updates on the case and of course I had to tell her nothing definite, we're still looking into things. She said she would've dropped by the station by now if she hadn't thought maybe she'd be a nuisance."
"The other guys here got fed up with her ages ago. She didn't even know nobody was actively investigating the case anymore."
"Anyway, she asked if you ever managed to find out who that missing kid is."
Kristeva furrowed his brow again. "Which one--?"
"The one she asked you about."
"I don't remember her ever..."
"She said there was some kid related to her uncle's case, something Singer was looking into, and that you said if the kid was listed as a missing person you might be able to look him up and find out who he is and what exactly it was Singer was getting into. We know by now what Singer was getting into, so it seems like we should've ID'ed this kid by now. She said she'd given you a photo." He took something out of the drawer and pushed it across the desk toward Kristeva. "Remember now?"
Kristeva stared down at the picture Devetko had pushed across the desk. The black-and-white image of the pale-eyed boy stared back at him.
His throat stuck for a moment, and his voice sounded faraway when he finally managed to speak.
"Where did you get this?"
"In your desk drawer, where you put it."
"You broke into my desk?"
"It wasn't in the folder with everything else related to this case, so I figured it was either in your desk, or at your house. What I'd like to know is, is there any particular reason you're withholding evidence related to this case--?"
Kristeva almost didn't hear the question, since the blood was roaring in his ears by now, muffling everything, and the edges of his vision had gone grainy like bad film again. "You had no right breaking into my desk," he hissed under his breath.
"Police property," Devetko said back under his own breath. "And you have no right withholding evidence in a criminal investigation. I asked you at the start if there was any sort of drama that was going to interfere with this, and you said no. You want to revise that answer--? Or how about answering my original question?" He leaned over the desk and his own voice turned into a hiss. "Why were you hiding this?"
Kristeva glared at him but he held the stare without a flinch. For some odd reason, Jenner's words to him at the prison--"Good luck finding a new partner...because after today I really don't think you two are going to last very long"--echoed in his head; and he remembered also his conversation with Det. Tulie. His mouth twitched and he was ready to just say Fuck off and get it over with already, when Devetko spoke again, evidently getting impatient.
"Well--spit it out. There's something you don't want Cheryl Singer to know?" A small pause, then, "After all the shit you've been dragging us through, you're the absolute last person I figured would've done anything to impede this investigation."
Kristeva opened his mouth--Fuck off and die, then, his tongue wanted to say--but then what he'd just heard finally made its way into his brain--"dragging us through"--and he shut his mouth again. Held the stare for another few seconds, Devetko holding it just as well. Then leaned far to the side and yanked open another drawer on his desk, one that he never bothered locking since there wasn't anything dangerous or of great importance in it. He withdrew a large hardcover book--Where The Wild Things Are--slammed the drawer shut, stood, and made his way across the office and toward the hallway leading to the file rooms. He didn't bother pausing to look back but did briefly catch his reflection in the windows to Chief Bowen's office, seeing Devetko hurrying after him.
He entered the first empty file room and halted at the table, clapping the book down on it. Devetko entered a moment later, carefully pulling the door almost closed behind him, and standing on the other side of the table. Kristeva glared at him again before picking the book up and shaking it violently over the table; Devetko looked down in time to see something fall out from between the pages. Kristeva flipped over the small piece of photo paper and pushed it toward him, an echo of Devetko's own actions a few minutes ago.
Devetko glanced at the photo, then frowned and picked it up. It was an old color photograph of a young blond girl and an even younger boy with darker hair, striking silly poses and both smiling widely at the camera. A note jotted in the lower corner read, Fourth of July outing 1979.*
Devetko stared at this for a moment, then lifted his other hand--Kristeva saw now that he'd carried the other photo into the room with him. He glanced from one to the other, and Kristeva could tell it had struck him almost immediately. The color photo was obviously a little older, but those eyes were unmistakable.
He lifted his head and looked at Kristeva. "You know this kid?" he demanded, voice tinged with disbelief.
"He's not a missing person," Kristeva said.
Devetko transferred both photos to one hand and shook them a little as if scolding him. "Missing or not, he's part of this case and Cheryl Singer deserves to know who he is, especially if he was involved with her uncle somehow!"
Kristeva ground his teeth and would have dug his fingernails into the wooden tabletop if possible. "He's not missing and he's not part of the case. Therefore, Cheryl doesn't need to know about him."
Devetko slapped both photos onto the table like he was revealing his cards. "Well, since you know so much, who is he, how do you know he's not missing, and why did Singer have a photo of him--?"
"I don't know why Singer had a photo of him. I know he's not missing--" He cut himself off, fumed, then flipped the book open to the title page and turned it around to face Devetko. The other detective looked down again and saw a handwritten inscription below the title.
Was going to give you "The Nutcracker" but this seems more appropriate! (Just kidding.)
Good luck out there. Love you lots.
--Chrissie
Kristeva stood and waited while Devetko leaned over this, looking at it closely, then looking at the writing on the color photo. One to the other, several times over, comparing the two as Kristeva had known he would. The girlish scrawl in both was nearly identical, though more refined, less childish, in the book inscription; the J, though, was what gave it away as being the same handwriting in both samples.
Devetko stood and met his eyes again, looking confused. "Who wrote these?"
"Christina Kristeva," Kristeva said, putting a finger on the color photo and drawing it back toward himself. "My sister." He stuck the photo back between the pages of the book and shut it. "Now you know how I know the kid isn't missing, because as far as I know I'm not missing, and the only way I'm part of this case is because I'm the one investigating it. And now you see why Cheryl doesn't need to know? I think she suspects I'm in over my head with this, and I really don't need her worrying about this even more than she already is. I have enough people thinking I'm nuts."
"But..." Devetko looked down at the other photo, brow furrowing. "Why and how would Singer have gotten a picture of you? Do you remember when this was taken?"
"No, I don't. It looks like it was taken without me knowing anyway. And I can't say why he had it, just that, since I'm standing here investigating this, it can't have anything to do with the case. Maybe Cheryl made a mistake and found the wrong photo, or maybe she misunderstood what Singer told her about it."
"You really believe that?"
A shrug. "There's no other explanation, is there?"
"Well, what about your sister, then--? Does she know anything about this, or would the rest of your family know--?"
"I don't talk to Chrissie about my work. And I don't talk to the rest of my family, period. And I'd appreciate it if you don't bother going there. Now, were we going to talk with Kinnie, or not--?"
Devetko pressed his mouth shut into a straight line and Kristeva could tell he was itching to keep asking questions, but to his credit he refrained. He turned to the door, but then picked up the photo before Kristeva could--"Nobody else can ID it, so this is going in the case folder," he said, in a voice that brooked no argument--and he was out the door before Kristeva could snap at him to give it back, so all he was able to do was steam to himself as he picked up the book and followed him out of the room.
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