Read Online Airtight by David Rosenfelt - Free Book Online Page B

a game. He was a great clutch player, and though I wasn’t sure if he was in the Hall of Fame, he was certainly a candidate for it.
    I’m not a huge pro basketball fan; I prefer football and baseball. But I read enough of the sports pages to have in the back of my mind that Davenport became an agent for players after he retired, though I wasn’t aware of a relationship with Judge Brennan when he played for the Celtics.
    “Come on in,” he said. “Denise will be down in a minute.”
    Denise was the recently widowed Mrs. Brennan, and my starting point in the investigation. “Good. Thanks.”
    “I’m a longtime friend of the family; would you object to my sitting in on your talk? She would prefer that.”
    I saw no problem with that, and said so. I wasn’t trying to trap her; I just wanted information, and the more at ease she was the more likely she was to provide it. “Whatever makes her comfortable.”
    It was almost fifteen minutes before Denise Brennan came down the stairs, and if she spent that time trying to make herself appear not to be devastated, it was a wasted effort. She was a small, thin woman, and my guess was she looked a lot smaller and thinner than she had before her husband’s murder.
    She apologized for keeping me waiting, and offered me coffee, which I accepted. Then, “Thank you for your efforts, Lieutenant. I share my husband’s disdain for capital punishment, but I must admit I wasn’t sorry to hear about the resolution of this situation.”
    By “resolution,” she meant my putting three bullets into Steven Gallagher. “I understand,” I said, because I did. “I’d just like to ask you a few questions about your husband.”
    “You don’t have any doubts about who committed the crime, do you?” asked Davenport.
    I shook my head. “None. But in a situation like this, we have to tie up all loose ends,” I said, neglecting to mention that among the loose ends here was the fact that my brother had been kidnapped and in six days wouldn’t be able to breathe.
    “What do you want to know?” she asked.
    “Had your husband ever mentioned Steven Gallagher, in any context?”
    She shook her head. “No, he didn’t bring home his work. Once he took off the robe, that was it. His life on the job and his life at home were separate.”
    “So he never felt threatened by anything that happened in court?”
    She thought for a moment. “Yes, a few times. He never spoke about it, but I could tell.”
    “How?”
    “Sometimes he didn’t want me to go out somewhere, or he would go with me, even if it was shopping, or something else he didn’t like doing. And a few times I noticed some people that I think were security.”
    “But he never told you why he was concerned, or who he was concerned about?”
    She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. He never addressed it in any way.”
    “Was there anything unusual about the way he was acting recently? Any changes in mood? Anything that you noticed?”
    She considered that for a few moments, and said, “I think he was feeling some stress, good kind of stress, over the Appeals Court appointment. When he testified before Congress, he was a little nervous. Dan rarely got nervous, so it surprised me. But it was more excitement than anything else.”
    I basically asked the same questions a few more times, but this woman obviously had no information that would help me. I told her I appreciated her talking to me, and let Davenport walk me to the door.
    “Thanks for your time,” I said.
    “Strange way to spend yours.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means that you’re not sure the Gallagher kid did it. Otherwise what would be the difference if Danny had enemies?”
    “Gallagher did it.”
    “I hope so. But if the real son of a bitch is out there, let me know how I can help.”
    “Will do.”
    When we got to the door, he opened it and I stepped outside.
    “Danny was a complicated man, but a good one,” he said. “A very, very good one.”
    It