“Maybe it’s not all just happenstance. Maybe he went there to kill them, or maybe they were there to kill him.”

“Right. With a grenade?” She didn’t answer. “Look, if you can explain the grenade, I’ll back any play you want to make. Otherwise, you better take it easy in there. Real easy.”

A nurse knocked on the door, then went in. A few moments later, an older gentleman in a suit stepped out an left.

Five minutes after that, the nurse stepped out again. She glanced around and spotted the pair. “Are you with JSO?” Smith nodded. “He said to send you in.”

When the detectives stepped into the suite, Kettleman’s wife launched into the gracious hostess routine, offering to buzz the nurse for drinks or snacks or anything they wanted.

“No thank you, ma’am,” said Smith.

“And if you don’t mind,” added Gates, “we’d really like to speak with your husband alone.”

This displeased Carolyn deeply. She blustered about until Kettleman spoke up.

“It’s ok, sweetie,” he said soothingly. “They’re just doing their job. You’ve been here all day, why don’t you go on home and get some rest. Visiting hours are over, anyhow. I’ll be alright.”

She fussed and made some more weak protests, but finally relented.

As soon as the door closed, Gates placed a recorder and a mic on the night stand. “Alright, from the top,” she said.

“Sorry, Mr. Kettleman,” offered Smith, despite the lack of protest. “One more time, just for the record. After this, hopefully we won’t need to bother you anymore.”

“This time, let’s start with the day before the incident,” Gates said thinly.

“Sure, ok. Saturday. Let’s see,” Kettleman said. “I was—”

The phone beside the bed rang loudly. Kettleman looked to Smith. To Gates’ dismay, her partners shrugged.

Kettleman picked up the phone. “Grand Central, how can I help you?”

“You got company?” Martin Goodall asked.

“Yep, sure do.”

“Can they hear me?”

“No. I’m feeling a lot better today. But listen, can I call you back? I have some nice folks visiting at the moment.”

“This can’t wait,” Goodall said. “You need to know, trust me.”

“Ok, but make it quick. I’ll be back tomorrow, business can wait.”

“I followed a hunch. That name you gave me, Terrence Casey. He did three months with Carolyn’s brother, Jimmy. It’s your wife, man. She wants you dead.”