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consumption. For you, not much, but it’s only been twelve hours for Christ’s sake. Half the department is assigned to the case. Once the bad guys figure that out, the crime rate will go up even higher.”
    Rotondi’s cocked head and raised eyebrows said he wanted to hear more.
    “That’s it, Phil,” Crimley said. “We’re working the case hard, all stops pulled out.”
    “Suspects?”
    “Sure. This stays here?”
    “If you want.”
    “I want.”
    “The senator says he doesn’t like the detective who showed up the night of the murder,” Rotondi said. “Chan?”
    Crimley rolled his eyes up into his head. “It’s Chang, Phil. Charlie Chang. He gets testy when anybody calls him Charlie Chan.”
    “His mother should have thought of that when she named him. He’s lead on the case?”
    “
A
lead. He’s good, goes by the book, loves details. I wish more of my guys did. The problem with Charlie is that nobody wants to partner with him. The friendly gene wasn’t available when he was born.”
    “What’s he say about the murder?”
    A shrug. “He finds it strange that the senator was dressed like he was ready to give a state-of-the-union address. He had given a talk that night, but no sign that he got down on his knees and wrinkled his pants to see whether the missus was dead. No blood, either.”
    “Lyle Simmons is a prissy sort of guy when it comes to his clothes.”
    “Even when your wife has her head bashed in? You know them both, Phil. How’d they get along, the senator and Mrs. Simmons?”
    “Fine, considering their marriage was high-profile. Plenty of stress.”
    “I hear she wasn’t much involved with his political career.”
    “Jeannette hated politics, hated politicians.”
    “Including her husband?”
    Rotondi’s shaking of his head wasn’t convincing. He winced against a stabbing pain in his leg, shifted position, and asked, casually, “Is Senator Simmons a suspect?”
    Crimley, a barrel of a man with a shaved head and wearing trademark, vividly colored suspenders, laughed. “He’s the spouse, Phil. Always the first suspect. SOP.”
    “He was giving a speech in front of hundreds of people when it happened.”
    “He’s always calling for a lowering of the unemployment level.” Another laugh. “Maybe he hired somebody.”
    “Come on, Morrie. This has all the trappings of a stranger breaking in, or being invited in and killing her. No sign of a robbery?”
    “No. Nothing missing as far as we can tell. No forced entry. We’ve got a couple of the types you’re talking about. A handyman was working around the house yesterday, and there’re a couple of local whack jobs we’re looking at. Remember, Phil, what I say stays here.”
    “Sure. No alarm?”
    “Turned off. At least that’s what the senator says. According to him, his wife didn’t bother activating it most of the time.” Crimley came forward in his chair and pointed an index finger. “You working with the senator on this, Phil?”
    “Working?”
    “Poking your nose into it? Trying to take the heat off him? You’re his best buddy.”
    “That’s right. I don’t know about best, but we are friends. That’s why I’m here.”
    “What’s he like, Phil? I mean,
really
like?”
    “He’s a—”
    “Think he’ll run for president?”
    Rotondi laughed. “I feel like I’m on
Meet the Press
. I don’t know whether he’ll run, Morrie. If he does, I’ll—”
    “Think he killed his wife?”
    Rotondi exhaled loudly and grabbed his cane from where he’d hung it on the chair’s arm. “Do me a favor, Morrie.”
    “Sure.”
    “Keep me in the loop. Unofficially. I’d appreciate it.”
    “To the extent that I can.”
    “Can’t ask for more than that. Thanks for letting me barge in. You can reach me at Emma’s house. You have her number.”
    “Washington’s Julia Child. How is she?”
    “She’s fine, Morrie, just fine.”
    Crimley got up and came around the desk. “Can’t they do anything for that leg of