Dean was primed to respond when Lieutenant Anderson stepped out of his office. "I checked out Nota and Flanders. Flanders is wanted in Philly for skipping child support and he has-n't seen his parole officer in weeks, but no one's gotten around to putting out a call for him, so officially they weren't looking for him. Everybody would like to see Alfred Nota locked up but nobody has been able to make anything stick. The word on the street is he works for a crime family in Boston and hires out for special proj­ects. He's one mean dude."

"Good riddance. Let our Federal friends from Philly have the bunch of them. They'll get no argument from me. But I have to question their smarts if they're interested in Vinnie."

"No argument here but no dice on our dumping the whole business in their laps. They want Parkside to be involved. You get to go out there with them."

"I've got a couple of last minute things to check out on Byrne...."

"Don't waste any more time on it-just get the report fin­ished. This new stuff is too important. Byrne disappeared in Norfolk's jurisdiction and if they're satisfied, let's drop it. Case closed." He turned on his heels and returned to his office. The Ice Lady must have really gotten Leland's goat, Dean thought.

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Dean asked Harrigan to work up his end of the report on the Byrne matter and make a few last minute return phone calls to neighbors, just to dot the I's. He filled out the paperwork on his visit to Norfolk and answered some of his phone messages. Visa, he was happy to learn, didn't call to say he was overdrawn but to offer to increase his credit limit. The prime must be up again.

While the case might be officially closed, Dean felt an obliga­tion to Randy Byrne, as well as his own curiosity, to follow up the March fourth Whitney Motel incident. He unobtrusively managed to locate all of the three renters of the adjoining rooms through their license plate numbers and was able to speak to two of them. The couple from North Carolina, the only guests using their own names, hadn't checked in until evening and remembered nothing.

"Mr. Jones," was Jack Webster, a local realtor, who was apparently having an affair with the wife of a city council member. He whis­pered to Dean he was, "in and out quickly, as the expression goes," and heard nothing in the adjoining room.

The third guest was an 18-year-old from a nearby township, although the name on the registered vehicle was different than the motel listing. He assumed the young man occupied the room for the same purposes as Randy's friend, Bobby Ridner. Dean felt guilty about pursuing the case but made a note to try and speak with the youth.




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