Flashback

K.T. lifted her coffee cup with both hands and sipped slowly, obviously just as a way to find time to think. “Oz never mentioned your wife in any of the other five investigations into Keigo’s murder,” she said softly.

“Five?” said Nick. “Five? I just knew about our department’s joint investigation with the Feebies and then the Japs themselves, Nakamura Senior, doing it again a couple of years later.”

“There’ve been three more since,” said K.T. while she looked down at her coffee. “DHS three years ago, then our office again after the governor put a rocket up Peña Junior’s ass. Then, a year and a half ago, the Feebies again with the CIA or some damned spook group looking into the nasty corners where the feds usually can’t go.”

“So my investigation makes six in six years,” murmured Nick.

“Your investigation makes five and one one-hundredth,” snapped K.T. For a fleeting instant there was a rare expression on her face, as if she wished she hadn’t said what she’d said.

But Nick just nodded. “Why has Nakamura hired me after all that firepower has come up empty? But the truth is, I don’t care why… I just want to find out why Dara and Harvey Cohen were there in Six Flags that September day. There’s also a chance that she was at the party in LoDo the night Keigo was murdered there.”

K.T. looked up. “At Keigo’s digs? No chance, Nick. All the investigations have combed that party list and the video recordings a thousand times. Hell, Nakamura’s people even re-created the whole thing in a three-D simulation. No sign of Dara.”

“Simulations come out of a computer,” growled Nick. “Computers depend on what goes into them. And on one of the outside videos I caught a glimpse of… someone… who could’ve been Dara, across the street about half a block away. Right when everyone was hightailing it out of the building before the cops got there.”

K.T. shook her head. “The FBI and the other tech investigations enhanced all those outdoor night videos. No matches with anyone of interest.”

“Well,” said Nick, setting words in place like sliding bullets into a revolver, “maybe my dead wife wasn’t of interest to them. But she’s of interest to me. I need to find out why she was at Six Flags that day and maybe at the party that night and to do that, I need your help, K.T.”

The lieutenant leaned back and away from him. “Jesus, Nick. You’ve been watching or reading too many goddamned private-eye stories where the defrocked ex-cop still has a pal on the force that does all the heavy lifting for him, despite the fact that it’d cost a real cop in the real world her gold shield. Well, I’m not your pal anymore, Nick Bottom, and I wouldn’t do it if I were.”

“You were Dara’s pal,” Nick said flatly, his hands clasped together and his forefingers pointing at K.T.’s chest like a pistol. “Or you acted like you were back then.”

“Fuck you, Bottom.”

“And fuck you, Lincoln. You’re not worried about losing your gold shield. You’re worried about losing your next promotion. But what’s next to get promoted to, K.T.? Commissioner? Mayor? Queen of Colorado?”

Nick had chosen a booth near the back of the diner, near the restrooms and away from the windows and early-morning crowd, but people were still turning to stare over the backs of their booths.

Nick leaned closer and whispered, “I need your help, K.T.”

The lieutenant’s expression had not changed except perhaps for a slight narrowing of her eyes. “What you need, Nick, is a shave, a haircut, to get your teeth cleaned, and to lose about twenty-five pounds. A new suit and a tie might help as well.”

Nick felt the wince inside but did not show it. “I need your help, K.T. I need to know why Dara was at Six Flags. And if she was near Keigo’s apartment that night.”

“She never said anything to you about Cohen or the district attorney looking into anything having to do with Keigo Nakamura?”

“Nothing that I remember. I’m going through those days one at a time with flashback and everything she says or doesn’t say seems suspicious to me now. I need to talk to the district attorney then, Ortega.”

“Mannie Ortega?” K.T. chuckled and took a piece of bacon from Nick’s plate. “Good luck in seeing the mayor to ask questions about something he probably didn’t even know about six years ago. The word downtown is that Ortega sees being mayor of Denver as a temporary stepping-stone. He has national aspirations.”

“Well, fuck him and his national aspirations,” hissed Nick. “I just need to know what Harvey Cohen was working on that might have put him and Dara in Six Flags Over the Jews that day.”

“Maybe you can get away with pulling your Advisor strings once to get in to see Ortega,” said K.T., “but your… investigation… doesn’t have a damned thing to do with who killed Keigo Nakamura anymore, does it?”

“I don’t know,” Nick said truthfully. “I just know that right now I don’t give a shit about who killed that kid unless it has something to do with Dara. And maybe even Dara’s… accident.”