Never the Crime

by Colin Conway

  Was anyone really going to pay attention to him?

  He was betting that no one would.

  CHAPTER 58

  The media vans were long gone, so Clint and Farrell were able to stand in the front yard of Sonya Meyer’s house and speak outside of Officer Yang’s earshot. In hushed tones, Clint told Farrell about Garrett’s visit to the crime scene. He left out Garrett’s accusations against the chief and the mayor, not sure if he was ready to share those with Farrell yet. Garrett’s presence at the crime scene was bad enough. As he spoke, he noticed the captain’s brow furrow, but he didn’t seem to grasp the magnitude of what had happened.

  “He contaminated the crime scene,” Clint said. “Now even if I find evidence of him being in the house, there’s an explanation. Even a public defender could show reasonable doubt with a jury over that.”

  “You really think it was him?” Farrell asked. “Wouldn’t the council member be the more likely suspect?”

  “You ever meet Dennis Hahn? He seem to you like the type who could beat a girl to death?”

  “No,” Farrell admitted. “But a lot of people aren’t what they seem.”

  “True enough, but I made a couple of calls since I’ve been here. I talked to Jean Carter, his personal assistant. She ran down his schedule and confirmed that he was present at all meetings and events. Based on a preliminary estimate on the time of death, that alibis him pretty solid.”

  “People lie.”

  “All the time. I’ll have to follow-up and verify once the medical examiner narrows down the time of death. But Hahn is unlikely to have been the one to do this. Garrett, on the other hand, is on his day off.” He gave Farrell a pointed look. “And he just happened to show up.”

  “That’s not as strange as it sounds, actually.”

  “Why not?”

  “He was working on something involving Hahn.”

  “He told me. So did Stone.” Clint peered at Farrell, suddenly suspicious. “You knew about this? Hahn, Stone, Garrett, all this bullshit?”

  “Not immediately, but yeah.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “The chief told me about it.”

  “The chief,” Clint repeated. Everything Garrett had told him was ringing true. He stared at Farrell.

  Can I still trust you?

  Farrell spread his hands apologetically. “He tells me things in confidence, Wardell. I give him advice.”

  “And keep his secrets.”

  “If it’s appropriate. What business is it of yours?”

  Clint shook his head, trying to break free of the anger he felt rising in his chest. “If Garrett and Baumgartner are in this together, doesn’t that make it my business?”

  Farrell gave him a doubtful look. “They’re not. Baumgartner asked me to check on Garrett. That’s why I talked to you.”

  “Maybe you got played. Maybe that was all about him wanting to find out if anyone is on to his boy.”

  “No, I don’t believe it.”

  “You don’t want to believe it.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “The chief is dirty, or he’s blind when it comes to Garrett. Either way is bad for us.”

  “He’s not dirty.”

  “It sure sounds like it.” Clint took a half step back and glared at Farrell. “Are you in it with the both of them? Is that it? Is that why you wanted to tell the chief everything, bring him into the loop?”

  “No!” Farrell snapped. He glanced over at Officer Yang, who was staring straight ahead, doing her best not to notice the argument. Farrell lowered his voice another notch. “Look, that was a mistake, okay? You were right. We need to keep this contained.”

  Clint took a deep breath and let it out. Then he said, “Garrett is involved somehow in this woman’s death.”

  “I can’t believe he killed her.”

  The detective thought of Garrett’s undamaged knuckles. “Maybe he didn’t, but he’s involved. I don’t know exactly how, but he is.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “I’m positive. I don’t know what his game is, but he’s playing something.”

  Farrell nodded. “I can believe that.”

  “Well, ain’t I just overjoyed.” He leaned closer to Farrell. “You want this to stay contained, Captain? Keep me in the loop.”

  “I will.”

  Clint snorted, and brushed past him, heading back into the house.

  CHAPTER 59

  He yanked opened the door before she could knock a second time. She jumped slightly and her eyes widened in surprise. She wore a women’s newsboy cap, a black jacket buckled around the waist, and knee-high boots.

  “What the hell, boy-o?”

  Gary Stone stepped back to let Jean Carter into his house. She dropped her purse upon entering, walked into the living room, and dropped onto the couch. She crossed her legs to the side of her. She had texted to say she was coming over because she needed to talk with him in person. He asked if she wanted to go out for something to eat, but she said that the conversation had to be done in private. Stone tried to get more out of her, but she quit replying to his text messages after that.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What’s going on with you? With Councilman Hahn?”

  Stone ignored her questions and pointed to the kitchen. “Want something to drink? To eat?”

  “I want the truth, Gary.”

  He stood at the edge of the living room, hesitant to commit to this conversation.

  “Listen, Gary. I know you sometimes have to keep secrets. I do, too.”

  “Like Armstrong? You knew about that long before the paper got hold of it.”

  “Of course I did. That’s our jobs, right?”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “I didn’t even tell my own boss!” she snapped. “And don’t change the subject. Something’s not right with Hahn. I got a call from a detective today.”

  “Which one?”

  “Clint Wardell.”

  “You mean, Wardell Clint.”

  Jean’s eyes rolled up as she thought, then she shook her head. “Okay, whatever. Clint, right? He called about Hahn’s whereabouts today.”

  “And?”

  “And!”

  Stone stared at his friend.

  “That’s all you’re going to give me, Gary? And? Clint asked if I ever heard of Sonya Meyer. I told him I hadn’t. He was evasive when I asked who she was and why he was asking if the councilman had ever met with her. Who’s Sonya Meyer, Gary?”

  Stone looked around his apartment.

  “Gary!”

  “She’s a woman who was murdered today.”

  “Why was the detective calling me then?”

  Stone sat in the chair across from her. There was no avoiding this conversation. “I dunno. He was probably trying to get an alibi for Hahn.”

  “Why would he need an alibi?”

  “Because he had a relationship with her.”

  “No, I said it was Shelley Mason he had a relationship with. I don’t know who Sonya Meyer is.”

  “I talked to Shelley. She told me about Sonya. By the time I got to her house, she was dead.”

  Jean’s hand lifted to her mouth. “Oh my God. You found her?”

  Stone nodded.

  “Oh, Gary. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I think so. Yeah.”

  They stared at each other for a few moments until Jean said, “So, this detective, Clint, he thinks Hahn killed this woman?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. He has to run everything down. Understand?”

  “Sure. I get it. Like they do in the movies, right? So, there’s another name I heard recently. Betty Rabe.”

  “Where did you hear it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “This one does. No secrets, Jean. It’s important.”

  “Charlene asked me about her.”
>
  Great. Charlene Mapes, the mayor’s assistant. Just what he needed.

  Jean continued, “She asked if I’d heard anything about her. I told her no, that I hadn’t. She told me she saw a letter that this girl sent to the mayor about the councilman. Then she said the girl killed herself. She said the mayor and the chief are investigating it. Do you know anything about this?”

  “I do.”

  “This is the thing I asked you about when we were at the club. Remember? You denied knowing anything about it.”

  “I was trying to protect you.”

  “I don’t need protection, Gary! I need the truth. Am I working for some sort of monster?”

  Stone stood then and walked as he spoke. “I dunno, Jean. I don’t. He’s a perv. That I do know.”

  “Most guys are,” she said.

  Stone stopped and stared at her.

  “Don’t get butt hurt now. Finish what you were going to say.”

  “Here’s the deal,” he said and then told her everything. He told her about Betty Rabe’s letter, his interviews with her and the councilman, the backroom dealings with the mayor and the chief. When he was done explaining the situation, he said, “That’s why I’m freaked out. If this thing comes out, they can throw me under the bus. I’m the fall guy for the whole incident if it turns bad.”

  “You didn’t kill her.”

  “No, but I’ll be the one everyone can point to and say he bungled the investigation. Everyone dances away, but me.”

  “Maybe this job isn’t for you, Gary.”

  “Being a cop?”

  “No, being a politician.”

  “I’m not a politician.”

  She gave him a knowing look.

  “Whatever,” he said.

  Jean stood and grabbed Stone by the upper arms. “You need to tell someone about this. Go to Human Resources and tell them. They can help you.”

  “I’m not an employee of city hall.”

  “You’re an employee of the city, Gary. They can help you. Don’t be a dumbass.”

  “I can’t. I gave my word to the chief.”

  “You’re going to be loyal to a man who might throw you under the bus to protect himself? How does that make any sense?”

  “I can’t explain it, but it makes sense to me. When I joined the department, it felt special. You probably won’t understand, but I was part of something bigger than I had ever been part of before.”

  “Don’t say brotherhood.”

  “No, let’s say family. I was part of a family.”

  “That family is going to disavow you if they get in trouble.”

  “They haven’t yet.”

  “You’re going to let that happen just to prove that your fears were correct? You’re not going to protect yourself first?”

  “Even if it all comes out and falls on me, I’ll stand up until it happens.”

  “And if it does? Then what will you do?”

  Stone thought about showing Jean the photo of the bison in the snow-covered field hanging in his bedroom. He thought it might help explain how he felt, but she had never seen his bedroom. They weren’t those kinds of friends. Instead, he said, “I’ll take it like a man.”

  “Whatever that means,” Jean said.

  CHAPTER 60

  “I’ve read your name on some articles about me. Some good, some bad.”

  “I write the truth. Good or bad, that’s a judgment call the reader makes, not me.”

  Reporter Kelly Davis leaned back in her chair. They were in the food court of River Park Square, the shopping mall in the heart of downtown. When Garrett called her, asking to meet, he tried to get her to go someplace quiet. Since she didn’t know him, she insisted on meeting someplace public. This was the most public place he could think of and she reluctantly accepted.

  Hundreds of people were in the food court. No one appeared to pay any attention to them.

  “I’ve got some info for a story I think you will find very interesting.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Garrett frowned. “What’s that mean?”

  “You’re not the first cop with some beef to come to me and try to get me to write his story.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “It’s funny that you all complain about how unfair the media treats you, but you embrace us with open arms when you need us.”

  “Flip the coin, lady. You treat us the same way. You shit on us until you need us. Then you say things like ‘never forget’ until you do.”

  Davis glanced around the food court. Garrett watched her and waited. He liked this woman. Not only was she attractive, she was self-assured. She seemed the type to not put up with any bullshit. There was something in the way she carried herself that reminded him of his wife, Angie.

  When her eyes returned to Garrett, Davis said, “Let me hear your story. I’ll let you know if it’s any good.”

  “I don’t want my name anywhere near this article.”

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “It does for this one.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Davis stood and pushed her chair back.

  “Hey, hold on a sec,” Garrett said. “This involves the mayor and the chief.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Covering up the sex crime of a councilman.”

  “Buckner? That’s old news.”

  “Not Buckner.”

  Davis tilted her head. “What?” she whispered. “Not Armstrong. He’s into more than kickbacks?”

  “Not Armstrong. Wanna stick around and hear the story now?”

  She slowly sat and pulled her chair back to her.

  “Councilman Dennis Hahn has a history of inappropriate relationships with young women.”

  “Bullshit,” Davis said. “Not Holy Hahn.”

  “One of which was underage.” Garrett knew the age of consent was sixteen, however, saying a girl was underage was the type of bait a reporter couldn’t help but chase.

  Davis stared at him for a moment, then pulled out her notebook to take notes.

  “Here are three names for you to research. Bethany Rabe. Shelley Mason. That’s Shelley with an ‘ey’ by the way. And Sonya Meyer.”

  When Davis was done writing, she nodded.

  “Bethany Rabe was seventeen years old and preferred to be called Betty, although her family and Hahn called her Beth. She sent a letter to the mayor’s office alleging that Hahn assaulted her.”

  “There’s proof of this letter?”

  “The mayor’s office staff saw it.”

  “Physical proof would be better.”

  “I figured.” Garrett pulled out his phone and showed a picture of Betty Rabe’s letter.

  “Who has this letter now?” Davis asked.

  “The chief of police. The mayor asked him to look into the matter, but he asked him to do so discreetly.”

  “Discreetly?”

  Garrett nodded. “They assigned the Special Police Problems officer to do it.”

  “Special Police Problems? Is that a real thing?”

  “Real as you and me. It’s a stupid name but check it out if you don’t believe me. Anyway, it’s Officer Gary Stone. He’s assigned to city hall. That’s easy for you to find, right?”

  “Gary Stone? Yeah. I’ve talked with him before. Nice guy.”

  “Right, everyone thinks so. Stone interviewed Betty Rabe and then Hahn about the alleged assault.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Stone handwrote a report.”

  Davis didn’t react.

  “Let me repeat,” Garrett said, “he handwrote a report. Know what that means?”

  She shook her head.

  “It means it was never given an incident number. It was never entered in the system. This report about the alleged sexual assault of a minor by a city councilman never existed.�
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  Davis’s pen hovered over her notepad as she thought. When she looked up, she said, “They wouldn’t do that. Not the chief. Maybe the mayor, but even he’s not that stupid. That would destroy both of them.”

  Garrett showed her a picture of Stone’s report. “Here’s the report. Believe me now?”

  “Email that to me.”

  “No. I don’t want it traced back to me.”

  “Who has the original?”

  “Baumgartner. I think Stone might have a copy, but I can’t be sure. He may have destroyed it. He’s freaked out about what they asked him to do.”

  “And there are no other copies of that report?”

  “Besides my photographs?”

  “Exactly.”

  Garrett looked over to another table where Tiana Kennedy sat intently watching him. “That woman over there has a copy for you. Along with a copy of Betty Rabe’s letter. When we’re done here, she’ll walk over and drop that folder she’s holding. Then what happens afterwards is up to you.”

  “This could blow up city hall.”

  “Don’t stop with the letter,” Garrett said.

  “Why?”

  “Because Betty Rabe killed herself when she didn’t get the help she needed.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Shelley Mason was also involved with Hahn. She was an intern in city hall and was fired because of her relationship. The termination was done quietly and didn’t involve Human Resources.”

  “That’s some underhanded shit,” Davis said.

  “That’s your tax dollars at work.”

  “What about Sonya Meyer?”

  “She was murdered this morning.”

  “Really?”

  “I wouldn’t lie about a murdered eighteen-year-old.”

  Davis bent over her notebook and wrote frantically for several minutes. When she looked up, Garrett was in the process of standing.

  “You’ve got everything you need,” he said.

  “I have more questions for you.”

  “No. My name stays out of this. I don’t want to be anywhere near this. Not after all the shit I’ve been through. Understand?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Davis said, and looked expectantly to the black woman.