by C. M. Sutter
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks. I guess I deserve to look like shit. My wife is dead, my kids are staying with my parents, and I can’t talk to anyone other than the police or my attorney.”
“Once the burglars are apprehended, the district attorney will make a decision about your future. Alvina Christianson is in custody, too, and several more pharmacists are being brought in who have blatantly lied to us.” I stared into Paul’s eyes. “Another wife is likely going to be killed by those thugs because nobody was willing to talk.”
“My family’s life was threatened! What else could I do?”
I snarled my disdain for the man. “You could have done the right thing before they broke into your house and killed Eileen. You could have called us, given them the codes, and we could have apprehended them before they harmed anyone. Now they’ve kidnapped another innocent wife, and her odds of survival are next to zero.”
“I’m sorry!” Paul dropped his head to the table.
“Sit up like a man and help me out for God’s sake. You were in your vehicle when they pulled in at the silos, and they parked twenty feet from the nose of your car! There’s no way in hell you didn’t see their license plate. From where I sit, the state of Illinois requires plates on the front and back of every vehicle. You had to have seen it!”
“I don’t remember! I was looking at the men not the plates.”
I pounded my fist on the table. “You’re looking at life behind bars, buddy. You’re just as responsible for this chain of events as they are. They’ll keep stealing drugs and killing people as long as chicken shits like you don’t help us put a stop to it. You’re the only person so far who has actually seen them and their car, but you don’t know a damn thing.” I pushed back the chair and stood. “You’re a pathetic excuse of a man and have done nothing to help us stop them.”
I slammed the door behind me, told Bill to throw Paul back in his cell, and returned to the bull pen.
“I’ve got nothing,” I said when Lutz entered seconds later. “He either clammed up in fear that his kids are still in danger, or he really didn’t look at the plates.”
Lutz shook his head. “I’m sure what he was going through in that moment was pretty traumatic. We just have to accept the fact that he doesn’t know. Henry and Shawn should be back soon with two more pharmacists to interview. Meanwhile, we’re waiting on the warrant from Judge Bennet.” Lutz sat on Frank’s guest chair. “What did the transit authority say?”
“It’s good news as long as we don’t hit any snags. Apparently, the cameras keep running while the bus is in use, and the video records over itself only when it reaches the end of the tape. They said it’s generally every week. They’ll set aside that tape as soon as the warrant comes through.”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” Lutz said. “I should hear back from the judge before the day’s end.”
Seconds later, my desk phone rang. Henry was calling. “What’s up, buddy?”
“Just wanted to tell you guys we’re back. Shawn has one pharmacist in his cruiser, and I have the other in mine. We’re taking them in through the garage. I’ll have Bill check them in, and then they’ll be available to question. I called you because I tried Lutz’s phone, but he didn’t answer.”
“Yeah, he’s in here with us, so come on up. I’ve got an idea brewing.” I hung up and got a half dozen brow raises from my colleagues.
Lutz folded his arms across his chest and grinned. “I hope the idea brewing in your head is a good one.”
“Yeah, me too.” I crossed the bull pen to the coffee maker that sat on the cabinet at the back wall. “Speaking of brewing, I think we can all use a fresh cup of coffee. I’ll start a pot while we’re waiting.”
Henry and Shawn entered the bull pen at ten after four. They plopped down at their desks, and each let out a sigh.
“Damn, those pharmacists are quite the bunch. I get it that they’re shaken to the core and afraid of retaliation if the burglars find out who talked, but if somebody doesn’t give us something, this crisis will never end.”
I jerked my head toward the coffee maker. “Let’s fill our cups and talk. Hopefully, my idea might work.”
With a steaming cup of coffee at each of our desks and two on Frank’s—one belonging to Lutz—I began.
“We have four pharmacists downstairs—two here for questioning and two being held temporarily until the DA decides what to do with them.”
Henry mentioned that the other two might end up in that same boat soon enough.
I agreed and stated the charges they both could be looking at, primarily obstruction. “Even though Paul lawyered up but then talked to us, anyway, out of fear of reprisal, they’ve all prolonged our ability to catch those killers. There’s a chance that if we get all of them together in the same room with us, they may open up—the whole strength-in-numbers idea.”
Lutz appeared to like that suggestion. “Not bad, McCord. They may feel safer and more powerful if grouped together.”
“That’s right. One person may tell us something that strikes a memory with another and so on. Pretty soon, they may let down their walls of fear and open up with everything they know.”
Frank blew over his coffee then added his two cents. “Until we have that warrant to see the camera feed from bus sixty-three on Sunday, we have nothing else we can check into now, anyway. We don’t have prints or DNA that matches anything in our databases, we don’t have facial descriptions or names, and we didn’t get enough from Alvina or Paul to prove useful. We did get a positive match of the man who stood near the bus stop to one of the men from the jewelry store recording, but the images weren’t clear enough to air a crisp facial and description of the man, plus we’d be putting Deidra at risk.”
“And the car?” Tony asked.
“It’s still an unknown. It could be five years old or ten,” I said. “We can’t make out the badges on the side panel. A car expert might be able to tell, but this is Chicago with hundreds of thousands of cars on our city streets, and it could take days to get somebody in here to view the footage. We need answers now, so let’s gather the four of them and make them talk. We’ll put all of them in box one, just because the room is larger, and leave them to themselves for ten minutes before we walk in. I’ll bet anyone here a hundred bucks that they start talking among themselves.”
“I agree,” Lutz said. “And no matter what, I think we’ll learn a lot more than we know now.” He grabbed Frank’s desk phone and called downstairs. “Bill, put all of our guests in box one together. Yep, you heard me right. Keep an eye on them from the observation room and start the recording. We’ll be down in a few minutes.” Lutz winced as he stood. “Damn knees.” He raised his cup, gulped down the coffee, then placed the cup in the sink at the back counter. “Let’s go, boys.”
Chapter 28
We followed suit by emptying our cups and grabbing our notepads as we walked out. Taking the back stairway to the ground floor was the fastest way to get to our jail wing.
Lutz instructed Frank and me to lead the interview with the four, and the rest of our team would watch from the observation room and take notes.
We planned to watch their private interaction for a few minutes before entering to see if they were more open with each other than they were with us. As we crowded into the six-by-eight-foot space that had only two chairs facing the window, Bill updated us about their conversation so far.
“They’ve only introduced themselves to each other, if that wasn’t already known, then they asked which pharmacy they worked at. Nothing too important yet.”
Lutz thanked him, and Bill exited the room. Bob and Henry took the only seats, and the rest of us took positions against the back wall. Lutz reached for the toggle switch on his right side, flipped it up, and engaged the intercom.
Paul was the first person to speak up as he told the group how his fear of going to the police had ended up causing the murder of his wife. Most of the people there had
already heard that horrific news, and it had led them to give the burglars exactly what they wanted and to be even more tight-lipped after the fact. I wasn’t sure his confession would help us in the long run.
I looked at Lutz for confirmation. “Shall we go in or wait a bit longer?”
He waved us on. “Go ahead. You need to instill the fear of God in those newest members of the ‘I don’t know anything’ group.”
Frank and I exited the observation room and walked into the interrogation room. Everyone immediately fell quiet. I introduced Frank and myself to the newest arrivals and explained why there was a good chance they would be staying overnight. My comment was met with tearful complaints and harsh criticism of the police force.
“I’m sorry you all feel that way, but in a sense, that’s saying you side with the burglars.” I circled the table and locked eyes with each of them as I passed. “You’re allowing them to intimidate you and to steal from your place of employment. You all know what happened to Eileen Harper, and if Paul had contacted us immediately instead of keeping their threats to himself, things might have turned out differently. Aiding and abetting, even if it’s done out of fear, is still against the law. I’m sure the managers at each CMS store are wondering why their top pharmacists were taken away by police, and explanations will be demanded. At this point, the likelihood of losing your jobs and licenses is pretty high.”
Frank took over. “We can help you if you help us. I’m sure each one of you knows more than you’re willing to say, but there’s power in numbers, and with your help, we can get those thugs off the streets and behind bars where they belong.”
I watched as the four of them looked at each other for reassurance. Paul and Alvina gave the other two a nod, and I hoped those nods would give us the breakthrough we needed. I reminded them that time was of the essence since Jeff Barry’s wife, Deidra, was in the burglars’ custody, and her fate was now in their hands.
Fran Lampert was the first to speak up. “They did contact me and very aggressively, I might add. A young lady approached me in the parking lot when I was about to leave work several weeks back. She called me by name, handed me an envelope, and disappeared. I was so focused on what had just happened, I didn’t even look to see which way she went.”
“Was she gloved, and do you still have that letter and envelope?” I asked.
“I do, but it’s at home, and no, she wasn’t gloved. I would have remembered that.”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. We need a description of her to the best of your knowledge.”
“It was several weeks ago, Detectives.”
Dan Rawson took his turn. “I remember what she looks like. The same thing happened to me just last week.”
“And you still have the envelope too?”
“I do, in my safe at home.”
I glanced over my shoulder. I was sure our group was giving each other high fives in the observation room.
“Go ahead and tell us what you remember about her.”
I watched Dan’s mannerisms and gestures to make sure he was being truthful. Looking upward and to the left meant he was trying to recall her description, and looking upward and to the right meant he was fabricating one.
“She was probably in her mid-twenties. She had shoulder-length brown hair, was rather plain-looking but not ugly—average I’d say.”
I determined he was being truthful by his upward and to the left recollection. “Anything else?”
“Um, she wore black pants and a white top under a navy peacoat.”
“So dressier than the typical jeans-and-T-shirt look young people wear.”
“Yeah, like she was either going to or had just come from somewhere.”
Frank circled the table with his hands buried in his pockets. I was sure he felt odd that neither of us were writing down every detail, but with the interview being recorded and our guys taking notes from the other side of the mirror, it wasn’t necessary.
I frowned. Dan hadn’t given us enough to distinguish her from thousands of other young women in Chicago. “That description could be anyone. How about height and weight or her type of build, maybe?”
Fran spoke up again. “She was around my size, five foot six, because we were face-to-face when she handed me the envelope. Also, I’d say she wasn’t over one hundred twenty-five pounds.”
I nodded. “Okay, that’s good. How about jewelry, tattoos, or manicured and painted nails?”
“No tattoos that I saw, but I do remember seeing a pearl-and-diamond ring on her right hand when she gave me the envelope.”
“Oh my God!”
We jerked our heads toward Paul.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“That description sounds like Jennifer. I didn’t put it together until Fran spoke of the ring. Jennifer wears one like that every day. She said it was a gift from her boyfriend, and she’s always flashing it at the other employees.”
“Shit! When we interviewed her, she only mentioned there being one door code. I guess it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but was that a deliberate omission, or did she just forget because she’s new?”
Frank huffed. “She did say she was nervous about talking to cops.”
“What do you know about her, Paul?”
He shrugged. “Nothing, really. She’s a pharmacy tech. That’s it. We aren’t in the same age group where I’d hang out with her or even inquire about her life. Her application would be on file at the store, though. You might learn more about her from that.”
I excused myself and stepped back into the observation room. Lutz held up his hand before I had a chance to speak.
“We’re already on it, Jesse. Henry just called the store manager, and he said he’d send over a copy of Jennifer’s application—no warrant needed. Guess he felt a twinge of empathy due to Paul’s situation. Henry reminded him not to discuss anything with Jennifer and to keep the daily routine status quo. As soon as we get that application, we’ll check the database to see if she has a criminal record.”
“Good. And getting another warrant is one less time suck we have to deal with.” I tipped my head toward the window. “What should we do with them?”
“We have to review that application and see if it has any merit before we rush to release everyone. Jennifer’s boyfriend could be one of the burglars, and it’s possible that she’s feeding information to him.”
“And physically helping them out,” I said.
Lutz agreed. “Unfortunately, for now, everyone has to stay put while we investigate this lead.”
Chapter 29
After the latest pharmacists in our custody had made their calls and were assigned holding cells for the night, we gathered around Henry’s desk in the bull pen. With the guest chair snugged against Henry’s side, Lutz leaned in and reviewed Jennifer’s application that was emailed as an attachment from the pharmacy. Crowding around his back, we peered over Henry’s shoulder and read the application too. It showed a post office box as Jennifer’s current address and a previous post office box in Detroit, Michigan. The only reference listed was one person—a Mary Williams, shown as her mother. Tony dialed the phone number on record, and it had already been disconnected.
“Jennifer’s last name is Tyler, not Williams,” Henry said.
I shrugged. “Mother could have remarried. Either way, from the description of her, it sounds like Jennifer was the woman who handed the letters to our two pharmacists.”
Lutz rubbed his wrinkled forehead. “Okay, since we don’t know where she lives, we’ll have to send patrol units out to follow her from work and see where she goes. Wait a minute. What the hell time is it?”
Henry checked the computer screen. “It’s six thirty-seven, Boss.”
I raked my hair. “Yeah, the pharmacy area of the store closes at five. She’s long gone. We’ll have to set it up for tomorrow.”
“I’ll let Abrams know in the morning,” Bob said.
I remembered Lutz’s earli
er comment that we would have the warrant the transit authority needed before the day’s end. For us, that could be any time, but for the courthouse, it was five p.m. sharp.
“What happened with the warrant from the judge?” I asked.
“Shit. I haven’t been back to my office to see if Debra dropped it off on my desk.”
Henry lifted his phone and dialed the front counter, where Debra, our daytime desk sergeant, worked. She was probably gone, but the night shift sergeant, Ted Coleman, would know if the warrant had arrived. Henry handed the ringing phone to Lutz.
“Ted, it’s Bob Lutz. Did Debra mention anything about a warrant coming through from Judge Bennet? It is? Okay, I’ll send somebody down to get it. Thanks.” Lutz hung up and turned to Tony. “Debra left it downstairs because I wasn’t in my office. Want to go grab it for me?”
“Yeah, not a problem.”
There was nothing more we could do about Jennifer that night, but we did have plainclothes officers staking out the pharmacy where Jeff Barry worked. Commander Fredricks and Jeff had been in constant contact all day, and I was sure Jeff was frantic, but as soon as the warrant was presented and the transit authority gave up that video from Sunday, we would have the plate number of the sedan and the name it was registered to. If everything went smoothly, we’d have those thugs, and possibly Jennifer Tyler, in custody that night and hopefully find Deidra safe and unharmed.
Tony was back within minutes. Lutz looked over the warrant to make sure our requests were stated accurately, then he called the transit authority. Warrants had to be served in person, but knowing exactly who to serve it to would save precious time, and we needed every second we could get. Lutz turned to me, and I already knew what he was about to say.
“I’ve got this, Boss. You don’t need to ask.”
