Palm Beach Bedlam

by Tom Turner

  “What do you want?”

  “What most people want, money.”

  “And who the hell are you?”

  “Ms. Anonymous.”

  Crawford shot her a thumbs-up. She was better than he expected.

  “I just figured out who you are,” Casey said. “You’re Cheryl. Grace’s friend from way back.”

  Cheryl flashed a frightened look at being ID’d. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Look, I’m getting bored with this, Cheryl. Send me the photos you got, and maybe I’ll give you a couple bucks.” He reeled off his email.

  “Couple bucks ain’t gonna do it.”

  Crawford nodded and smiled. The girl was brazen.

  “Goodbye, sweetheart.” And Casey clicked off.

  Cheryl looked surprised as she looked over at Crawford. “Sorry, I thought I was doing so well.”

  “You were,” Crawford said. “He’s just playing hardball. He’ll be back.”

  Dominica patted her on the shoulder. “Yeah, good job. We haven’t heard the last of him.”

  After getting Cheryl’s permission to open some windows, Charlie went around and opened every one of them. But the place still reeked, so he suggested they go out on the wood deck behind her home. Crawford brought out a bottle of water, Dominica a Coke, and Cheryl her umpteenth cigarette of the day.

  “How many of those do you knock back in a day?” Crawford asked.

  “Four packs,” Cheryl said. “It’s my only vice.”

  Dominica laughed. “Otherwise, you’re pure as the driven snow, right?”

  Cheryl smiled. “Pretty much.”

  Crawford turned to Dominica. “Okay, have you figured out what your role is yet?”

  “I think so.”

  “I figured. So, what is it?”

  Dominica leaned back in the plastic chaise. “When Casey calls back, if Casey calls back, Cheryl’s gonna set up a meet where Casey can pay her to lose the photos. And instead of Cheryl being there, it’s gonna be me. And you’re gonna be hiding nearby.”

  “Pretty close. And I’m thinking we might as well do it right here.”

  “Okay. Question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “How we gonna explain Cheryl morphing into me?”

  “Ah …”

  “You haven’t quite figured that out yet, have you?”

  “Still working on it.”

  Cheryl blew a well-constructed series of smoke rings. “Wait a minute, why can’t I do it?”

  “Sorry, Cheryl,” Crawford said, “it’s way too dangerous. Casey could show up with a gun.”

  “Yeah, but you’ll be behind the sofa or whatever, right?”

  “Probably in your hall closet.”

  “All right, so I’ll be safe then?”

  “Theoretically,” Crawford said. “It’s still a risk, and we don’t put citizens in risky situations.”

  He thought for a moment about calling Ott for backup but decided he didn’t really need him.

  “But what about poor Dominica?” Cheryl said. “You don’t mind putting her in a risky situation?”

  Dominica looked amused. “Yeah, Charlie, what about poor me?”

  Crawford chuckled and said to her, “You know what you’re doing.”

  “Fact remains,” Cheryl said, “Dominica’s gonna have to explain why she’s there and I’m not.”

  “I want to talk to you in private for a second,” Crawford said, searching his mind whether Casey had ever met or seen Dominica.

  “Come on,” Cheryl said. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me.”

  Crawford thought for a few moments. “Okay, I’ve already said it, Cheryl. My superiors take a dim view of putting a private citizen in a dangerous situation.”

  “But you’ll be watching,” Cheryl said. “Quinn Casey does something, you shoot him.”

  “It’s not quite that simple.”

  He turned to Dominica. “Has Quinn Casey ever seen you?”

  Dominica shook her head. “No, but I think you should let Cheryl do it.”

  “Please, Dominica—”

  “No, she’s right,” Dominica said. “Both of us will be a few feet away, ready to neutralize Casey.” Dominica turned to Cheryl and smiled. “Plus, she’s good and feisty.”

  Cheryl beamed. “Thank you, Dominica.”

  As they expected, Quinn Casey called back within the hour.

  “Okay,” he said. “Where do you live? I’m going to come over and pay you for those photos.”

  “You got a nice, big, fat check for me?”

  “Yeah, ten thousand dollars.”

  Cheryl scoffed. “Forget it. I want ten times that.”

  “You forget it. The most I’ll give you is fifty.”

  Cheryl responded with a long dramatic pause. “All right. The last name is Banderas. B-a-n-d-e-r-a-s.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “1920 Barbados Drive in Lake Clarke Shores.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Why so long?”

  “I’ll be there in an hour,” he repeated.

  Dominica was looking out the window, playing sentry. Crawford was next to her, talking on his cell phone to Ott. They had driven their cars several blocks away so they wouldn’t be spotted. Crawford clicked off.

  “So, you figure Casey giving Cheryl a check will hang him?” Dominica asked.

  “Put it this way: it’s a start,” Crawford said. “I mean, he could say he was just trying to save his job. Figuring the bad press from the photos could get him fired.”

  “Or, he doesn’t want his wife to get wind of his affair with Grace.”

  Crawford nodded. “Yeah, so we’re gonna need more than him giving Cheryl a check. But, like I said, it’s the first step.”

  Dominica pointed at a white Ford Taurus that had pulled up in front of Cheryl’s house.

  “He’s here,” she said, and Crawford walked quickly to the front closet. Dominica went into the kitchen and positioned herself just inside the door.

  “Okay, Cheryl,” Crawford said. “We got you covered.”

  “You better,” Cheryl said gamely. “Break a leg, right?”

  A few moments later, the doorbell rang.

  A tense look spread over Cheryl’s face.

  She walked to the door and opened it.

  There were two men there. One was wearing a policeman’s uniform.

  “Ms. Banderas?” the man in uniform asked.

  “Yes, who are you?”

  “Officer Lembeck, and this is the man I understand you talked to a little while ago, Mr. Casey.”

  Casey was smiling, but it was more like a smirk.

  Crawford groaned silently. He had heard the name Lembeck before and thought he was with the West Palm Police Department. He took out his phone and scrolled to West Palm PD.

  Lembeck took a step closer to Cheryl. “I have reason to believe you were trying to extort money from Mr. Casey. Is that true, Ms. Banderas?”

  “What do you mean, ‘extort money?’”

  “I mean, threaten to expose him for actions supposedly recorded by a surveillance camera. And photos of a woman with bruises and wounds supposedly inflicted by Mr. Casey.”

  “Yeah, I have the photos right here,” Cheryl said. “Would you like to see them?”

  Crawford found Lembeck’s name in the West Palm PD personnel roster.

  “Let me ask you a question,” Lembeck said. “Do any of the photos show Mr. Casey inflicting harm on Ms. Spooner?”

  Cheryl thought for a second. “Well, no.”

  “And do you have a surveillance tape showing Mr. Casey inflicting harm on Ms. Spooner?”

  In the closet, Crawford was regretting coming up with that invention.

  “No.”

  “But in a phone call a short while ago, you tried to extort a hundred thousand dollars from Mr. Casey in return for those photos and footage. Is that correct?”

  “Well, I—” />
  “Is that correct or not?”

  “Well, I guess—”

  Lembeck turned to Casey. “Mr. Casey, would you like me to arrest this woman for attempting to extort you?”

  Casey’s smug expression turned into a look of contemplation. He didn’t say anything for a few moments.

  “No, Officer, I don’t believe that the lady’s ill-advised actions should result in her being arrested. A simple apology will be acceptable to me.”

  “But you beat her up,” Cheryl said with a flash of anger. “Twice. She told me.”

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” Casey said. “But, clearly, you have me confused with someone.”

  Cheryl’s face flushed red with rage.

  “Ms. Banderas,” Lembeck said, “I strongly suggest you apologize to Mr. Casey or I will be forced to arrest you for extortion.”

  Cheryl shook her head. “This isn’t right. He’s the one you should be arresting.”

  “Ms. Banderas, last chance.”

  Casey’s smirk was back with a vengeance.

  “Ms. Banderas, I mean it, one last time.”

  Cheryl sighed deeply and dropped her voice. “I apologize,” she said, her voice muffled.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Casey said.

  “I apologize.” Not much louder.

  “You’re going to have to speak up,” Lembeck said.

  “OKAY, OKAY, I APOLOGIZE … I FUCKING APOLOGIZE,” Cheryl said so loud the neighbors across the street could hear.

  39

  Crawford, Dominica, and Cheryl Banderas were back out on the wood deck behind her house.

  “What if he’d actually arrested me?” Cheryl said. “I mean, it was pretty close.”

  “I think it was what is known as ‘sending a strong message,’” Crawford said. “I doubt he would have ever arrested you.”

  Dominica nodded. “Or else we would have come out and saved you.”

  Cheryl smiled. “That was fun, actually.”

  “You were good,” Crawford said.

  “Never too late for Hollywood,” Dominica said.

  Cheryl smiled. “Sure beats hangin’ around watching soap operas all day long,” she said. “What’s our next move?”

  Crawford laughed. “Afraid we’re going to have to retire you as an honorary cop.”

  “Aw, come on.”

  “Sorry, but we’ll let you know how this turns out. Don’t worry, we’ll get him.”

  “You sure?”

  Crawford nodded.

  “You gotta,” Cheryl said.

  “We will,” Crawford said, though he wasn’t sure what the next move was.

  Crawford and Dominica were headed back to the station. It was five forty-five.

  “Want to get a bite a little later?” Dominica asked.

  “I do, but I can’t,” Crawford said. “Gotta work. I feel like I’m making progress, then I take three steps backward. In this case, I know who did it, but I can’t nail him.”

  “What exactly are you going to do?”

  “Go to that little park on the other side of South County and ponder.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I do when I’m at a dead end. That’s my spot,” Crawford said. “It’s like how Ott goes to the dog park and hangs out, even though his dog died last year.”

  “Yeah, what’s that about?”

  “That’s where he thinks. Comes up with stuff.”

  “And the little park is your spot?”

  “Yup.”

  “Now that I think about it, I’ve seen you there a couple of times. Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

  “I guess I didn’t think you’d find it very interesting.”

  “No, it actually is.”

  Crawford turned right into the police station driveway.

  “So,” said Dominica, “what if, when you’re at your little spot in the park, you figure out right away how to crack the case?”

  Crawford chuckled. “Well, if that happens, I’ll give you a call right away. We’ll go get dinner.”

  Dominica’s head shot up. “Oh, I forgot to tell you something. Rose asked if you and I wanted to go to her house for dinner on Friday. Spend some quality time with her and her friend, John the shrink.”

  “Yeah, let’s do it. What time?”

  “She said seven.”

  “But if I’m a little late, that’s okay, right?”

  Dominica nodded. “We both know how it is when you’re on a case. Case first, women second.”

  “You don’t really believe that?”

  “Ah, yeah, I really do.”

  They got out of the Crown Vic. Crawford walked Dominica over to her car and lowered his voice. “I’d give you a big, slobbery kiss right now, but someone might be watching.”

  Dominica held out her hand and, in case someone was listening, said, “So nice to spend part of the day with you, Detective.”

  Crawford laughed and shook her hand. “The pleasure was indeed mine, crime scene tech McCarthy.”

  40

  Right after Crawford walked into his office, Bob Shepley stopped by to give him an update on Roy Jenkins, the art forger.

  “Guy skipped town,” Shepley said. “His landlord thinks he might be headed back to where he used to live.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Charleston, South Carolina.”

  “You contact anybody up there?”

  “Not in Charleston,” Shepley said. “But I just spoke to an old buddy who lives in Mount Pleasant, near there. He mentioned a Charleston cop named Nick Janzek.”

  The name was vaguely familiar to Crawford, but he didn’t know from where. “So call the guy,” Crawford said.

  “Only problem is he’s a homicide cop.”

  “So what? It’s a good place to start.”

  Shepley shrugged. “All right. Later, man.” He walked toward Crawford’s door.

  “Oh, hey, keep me in the loop,” Crawford said.

  “Will do.”

  Nick Janzek? Nick Janzek? Then, he remembered. He had been an All-American lacrosse player at Boston College. They had crushed Dartmouth three years in a row, Janzek making goals just about every time he got his stick on the ball.

  Before Crawford went to the little park across from the station, he stopped by his office and made a call. It was to The New Yorker magazine in New York. He knew, even though it was past six o’clock, he’d find plenty of people still there. Running a magazine was not a nine-to-five operation. And it would be a short call because he had only one question: whether a certain person worked at the magazine or not.

  Five minutes later Crawford was sitting on the bench in the small park across the street from the station. Many of the old familiar questions were banging around in his head, still unresolved. How come the camera that recorded the comings and goings of guests on the penthouse floor of The Colony Hotel didn’t show Grace Spooner’s murderer coming to the door and going inside? Why did Grace move from the Chesterfield to The Colony late in the day when she had already paid for the night—by courier, in cash—at the Chesterfield? With all the surveillance cameras in the Australian dock area, why wasn’t there any footage of Asher Bard’s murderer coming onto Bard’s yacht?

  Those were the recurrent questions, but there were others, as well.

  Two hours later he was still there, oblivious to everything around him—the South Country Road traffic, a few night strollers who passed by in ones and twos, even the rain. Yes, the rain, as he suddenly realized he was three-quarters soaked. Talk about getting lost in your thoughts … He finally got up, crossed the street, and went down the driveway to the police station parking lot. He hit his car clicker, opened the door, and drove back to West Palm Beach. He planned to get started at seven o’clock the next morning, since he had a full day planned.

  As he crossed the bridge from Palm Beach, he hit the speed dial he’d created for Tyrell and Darnell Bard. Tyrell answered, and they had a ten-minute convers
ation, ultimately planning to meet at the Ultima gym first thing in the morning, although Darnell couldn’t make it because he had a doctor’s appointment.

  That would be the start of what Crawford predicted would be a long, long day.

  Tyrell was decked out in black Under Armour tights and a neon yellow muscle shirt. The Rock didn’t have much on him.

  “Lookin’ good,” Crawford said, sidling up to Tyrell. “This where you normally work out?”

  “Hell, no, heard this place is for pussies,” Tyrell said, and the guy at the front desk turned around and frowned. “LA Fitness, man.”

  Crawford nodded. “So, I don’t know for sure if this guy’s gonna show, but if not, I guess you’ll just have to do a pussy workout.”

  Tyrell laughed. He walked over to the hand weight rack, hefted a pair of seventy-pound hand weights, and did three sets of fifteen reps.

  To try to keep up, Crawford attempted to do the same with a pair of forties. He normally did thirties and stopped after seven reps. Fortunately, Tyrell wasn’t watching him. Crawford put the hand weights back on the rack and looked around just in time to see Quinn Casey walk through the front door and head straight back to the locker room. Crawford noted what he was wearing: faded blue jeans and a collared white sport shirt. A few minutes later he walked out clad in two-tone Nike fleece training pants and a long-sleeved shirt with a swoosh high up on the left side.

  Casey saw him, waved, and came over. “Hey, Charlie. How ya doin’, man?”

  Crawford nodded and got Tyrell’s attention. “Hello, Quinn. Like you to meet a friend of mine, Tyrell.” Tyrell approached them. “Think you knew his father.”

  Tyrell looked Casey over like he was a cockroach.

  “Hello, Tyrell, Quinn Casey,” Casey said, taking a step to shake Tyrell’s hand, but Tyrell didn’t move. “And who would your father be?”

  “Asher Bard,” Tyrell said.

  Casey blanched but recovered. “Never had the pleasure.”

  “Oh, I think you did,” Crawford said. Then to Tyrell, “That the name?”

  Tyrell nodded and eyed Casey. “Told me he was going to meet you at his boat.”