“Any evidence, barring what I said might be critical to another case, will be shared. And I expect reciprocity. I know you’re sly as a fox, and your department couldn’t have a better man in charge, but make no mistake, if you’re stonewalling me, I’ll go to the attorney general. Finch was on and off presidential detail. If he was uncovering some plot along those lines, then we’re talking about a whole different ball game.”

“Cory,” Ethel said, “I think Frank understands the gravity of the situation. My question is how much will you share with me? As you acknowledged, Jonathan Finch was one of mine. I will not be relegated to a rocking chair reading the progress of your investigation in the Washington Post.”

Bradshaw threw up his hands in surrender. “You know you have no official standing, Ethel. But I’ll keep you posted on our progress as appropriate.”

“And I’ll keep you posted on mine.”

The two men looked at each other, neither wanting to challenge her.

After a moment of silence, Mancini asked, “Have you made progress already?”

“A little.”

Bradshaw leaned forward in his chair. “You know withholding evidence can be obstruction of justice.”

Ethel smiled. “Does that include withholding the interpretation of evidence?”

“What do you mean?”

“How can I be withholding evidence when it’s in plain sight? You see it, Frank sees it, and I see it. Is it obstruction of justice if I form an opinion and keep it to myself?”

Mancini laughed. “Well, Cory, you want to call the AG and get a ruling because I don’t know what to tell her?”

Bradshaw shook his head. “All right, Ethel. I promise to be as open with you as I will be with Frank. Now what’s this evidence you’re talking about?”

“The damage to the front of Jonathan’s car. There are two broken headlights and a dent in the grille. But there’s no damage to the bumper that protrudes beyond them and no fragments of the broken headlight lenses at the scene. So it happened elsewhere. But he didn’t drive all the way from Richmond through the dark without headlights. So, something occurred before he was shot here. From the nature of the damage, I’d say he either hit some kind of railing or, more likely, ran through a crossing bar somewhere. If I were running the case, I’d look for any reports of broken railings or crossbars that happened overnight.”

Bradshaw looked at Mancini. “Are you working that?”

“Hell, no. You took the damn vehicle.” He turned to Ethel. “And you saw all this in the brief time you handed Jesse your robe and went back in the house to make the 911 call?”