by Mike Slavin
What the hell. I have him on the phone.
“Okay, Jeff, what can I do for you?”
“How about lunch or supper sometime soon?” Case asked.
“What for?”
“Nothing in particular. Just old friends of Larry’s getting together. My treat.”
Blowers hesitated for a moment. “Sure, why not? What’d you have in mind?”
“How’s tomorrow? Maybe one o’clock at Brennen’s?” Case asked.
Case waited just inside the entrance for Blowers to arrive. Blowers was a big man, six foot two and heavy, but not fat. He looked serious and didn’t smile when he saw Case. They shook hands and the hostess, as per Case’s request, showed them to a booth in the back, where it was quiet.
They engaged in some light chitchat. They ordered food, and the meal was excellent. Then came the dessert tray. Case deferred to Blowers, who seemed reluctant, but ordered the key lime pie. Case didn’t usually order dessert, but since Blowers did, to be polite he also ordered the key lime pie. He could always take just a bite or two and leave the rest.
When the pie arrived, Case decided to start maneuvering. “You know, I want to ask a favor, but I’m not sure you’d be interested in helping me,” Case said.
“What did you have in mind?” Blowers asked.
“Well, I might need something with no questions asked. Hypothetically, do you think you could do that if you were asked?”
“Hypothetically, what would you need?”
“Heroin.”
Blowers went silent and put down his fork. Then he leaned back and looked around. He leaned forward and whispered, “You want to get heroin without being arrested. Is that what you’re asking me?”
Case was slow to answer. Would Blowers arrest him if he said the wrong thing? This was the moment of truth, the point when he had to decide to cross the line.
Had he already done something illegal just by asking?
“Yes, that is what I am asking,” Case stated. “Hypothetically, of course.”
Blowers leaned in close and stared hard at Case. “You don’t look like a junky.”
“I never have and never will use drugs, period,” Case replied.
“If the drugs aren’t for you, what do you need them for? You got some side piece with a sweet tooth?”
“Look, way too many people I love have gotten killed the past few months. Right now the police have no leads, no evidence, and no proof of anything. I have some of my own people looking into things. I do have suspects, and I’ve seen proof they were directly involved in taking people away from me. The thing is, the police may not be able to use any of that information, but I still need justice.” As Case spoke, he moved closer to Blowers. He blew out a breath and leaned back, knowing he had laid his cards on the table. Now, either Blowers would help him or he wouldn’t.
Blowers relaxed. “These suspects you have, are they in your wife’s case or Larry’s?”
“If I tell you, you can’t deny anything. I’ll tell you that the people who got Larry have been neutralized for the time being.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Blowers asked.
“Larry was my best friend. Right now, no one needs to worry about the people who murdered him.” Case was trying to be cagey. He still wasn’t ready to trust Blowers. “Look, I’m being honest with you without telling you anything to get you in trouble.”
“I loved Larry like a brother.” A tear rolled down the cheek of the big, stoic cop. He tried to wipe it off with his napkin without Case noticing. “I don’t care if you already killed Larry’s murderers or if you’re planning to kill them. I know the law doesn’t always get it done and this is one time when I care less about how it gets done and more about the fact that it does. Are you going after Larry’s killers?” Blower’s gaze drilled into Case.
“The DEA and Homeland Security got involved in that mess and made them disappear. All I know is they can’t hurt anyone, and they’re probably not enjoying life.”
Blowers shook his head. Years of police work weighed on his shoulders. “If they come back on the grid, will you tell me?”
Case suddenly realized that Blowers might be a useful ally and a kindred spirit. “I can’t promise you that, but once I know they’re permanently off the grid, I’ll let you know.”
Blowers nodded. It was all he could ask. “Okay, so that means the people who killed your wife and son are still a problem, and you might have a lead on them. What you’re asking for sounds like you want to create an accident. Am I reading the situation right?”
Case sighed with relief. “Pretty much.”
“No chance you could give the lead to the police and let them handle it?” Blowers asked.
“I didn’t follow all the rules to find these guys, so the police won’t be able to use anything. Any evidence is probably useless to them. The case might be only a couple months old, but we both know it’s already cold.” Case was stoic and resolved as he talked to Blowers.
“I do know that some detectives seem to think you were involved, but I looked at the case before I came here today and, talking to you, I think they’re not only barking up the wrong tree, but they aren’t even in the right forest. Okay, get a napkin. You’re gonna take a name and number down. That way my prints aren’t on this at all.” Blowers had made up his mind.
The waiter brought Case the pen and paper he had asked for.
Blowers gave him a phone number and a first name, Ben. “Call him. Tell him I referred you. He can get you anything you want.”
Case called Ben and told him he wanted twelve doses of heroin and weed. Ben laughed and asked how much weed he wanted and what kind. Case said he didn’t know, something that mellowed out a person and enough for ten servings. Ben laughed again and told him how much it would cost. Then he asked where Case wanted to meet. Case suggested the coffee shop by the Galleria and Ben agreed. Ben said to bring cash.
The exchange went smoothly. Case handed over the money and, in return, got twelve doses of heroin and a bunch of weed. Each dose of heroin was packaged in plastic and put in tiny balloons. Case read up on it and decided it shouldn’t take more than three hundred to four hundred milligrams to kill a first-time user. It might take as much as six hundred milligrams, though, so he wanted to make sure he got enough.
Even though Case now had the heroin, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure he could kill Krusty. He felt he could always change his mind at the last minute. He knew he had enough heroin to take care of the young killer and that Ronnie would have to die another way to avoid a tie between the two. Case had already found the perfect way for Ronnie to die.
He’d searched the Internet and found that a good way to kill a person undetected was with a drug called suxamethonium chloride—or simply just “sux.” It could mimic the symptoms of a heart attack in a victim. Anesthesiologists used it to relax muscles, so they could control breathing during surgery. The only downside for Case was it had to be injected. The only downside for Ronnie was it would be a horrible way to die without something to knock him out first.
After Case bought the heroin, he asked the dealer, “Do you have any sux?”
“Never heard of it,” Ben said.
“Relaxes your muscles to the point of paralysis.”
“Aren’t doctors the only people that have that kind of stuff?”
“Vets have it, too.”
“Well, I’m not sure how to get sux, but I do have GHB,” Ben said. “You know, the date rape drug? Most people will act like they’re wasted and may pass out, but they won’t remember anything, and you can generally do whatever you want. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, I know what you mean,” Case said. “I’ll take some of that, too.”
“It disappears from the blood system in twelve hours,” Ben added.
“Nice to know.” It wasn’t his first choice, but it might work.
“A single dose, as I sell it, will make a person relax and feel good. A double dose will make sure they
don’t remember anything. You just sneak it in a drink.”
“Can you meet me here tomorrow with it?”
“Sure.”
It bothered Case that Ben never asked the reasons for, or showed any concern about, any of his requests.
Case met with Ben and picked up the GHB. Ben asked if he still wanted the sux.
“You can get it? Case asked.
“It’ll be expensive, but I’ve got a guy who says he can get it. He can probably get it tonight,” Ben said.
“Good. How much can I get and what’ll it cost?”
“It’ll be ten grand for whatever amount we can get—five thousand up front and five thousand when I deliver it to you.”
“Okay. Let's do it.”
The next day, Case was handed a package of four boxes, each with twenty-five vials of suxamethonium chloride, still shrink-wrapped. Case now owned one hundred vials of sux. It was way more than he needed, but he took it all. Ben seemed very proud of himself, even though he didn’t steal it. Case now had the drugs he needed for Krusty and Ronnie. He still needed more intel on Ronnie. Case didn’t know who had pulled the trigger on his wife and son, but he wondered if that mattered. One had pulled the trigger and the other had just watched.
Time to go to Reno and practice his sniper skills in a couple of weeks.
37
Kansas City
June 15, 2018, Friday-June 24, 2018, Sunday
Bobby arrived in Kansas City a week later. Trish supplied him with the information she’d found from Ronnie’s Facebook page. The kid had just finished his first year of community college and recently gotten back from Houston after visiting his cousin, Krusty. Ronnie didn’t have a girlfriend. He loved his older car that, in his own words, “at least started when I needed it to start.” He seemed to have a couple of good friends who were in many of his photos.
Bobby settled into a hotel about a mile from Ronnie’s parents’ house. As soon as he finished eating, he drove by it. The house was small and in an old subdivision. It wasn’t the worst part of Kansas City, but it was lower middle class. Ronnie’s parents kept their house neat and in good repair, with the grass cut and even a few flowers in the yard. The immediate neighbors’ houses and yards on both sides didn’t look as great.
Bobby knew he’d stand out in his new model rental car, so he looked up used car lots. The first one he visited had forty vehicles on a gravel lot, with a small white wooden office in the middle. Colored triangle flags were draped all over the lot. He found an older car with a nine-hundred-dollar For Sale sign in the front window. Bobby drove it around the block—the radio and air conditioner worked, and it seemed to drive well enough.
“Is the owner here?” asked Bobby.
“I’m the owner,” said the white-haired man who was badly in need of a shave.
“I’d like to rent a car from your lot for a week, maybe longer,” Bobby said.
“I can’t rent my cars. I don’t have the right insurance.”
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars a day, cash, no paperwork. I’ll guarantee you one thousand.”
“Do you have one thousand cash on you now?”
Bobby didn’t answer. He pulled a wad of hundred-dollar bills from his jacket. He counted off ten bills and held them out.
The owner rubbed his white face stubble with a half grin on his face. “Okay, why not? This is the one you wanted, right?”
“I may want to switch out cars.”
“Yeah, that’s okay, anything but the six on the front row. They’re my best—I make the most money off the front row.”
“That’s fine, but I’ll also need you to keep my rental car here when I’m using one of your cars. That okay?” Bobby asked.
“Sure. Just park it behind the shack. No one will bother it.”
“Thanks,” Bobby said as he handed him the money. “I’ll pick it up early tomorrow morning.”
The owner agreed and gave Bobby a key to the lock on the gate chain so he could get in and out of his car if the lot was closed. The owner still looked concerned, so Bobby flashed his PI badge and said it was for a stakeout on a cheating husband. That loosened up the car lot owner. Now that Bobby had the car, he planned to start surveillance the next day.
The next morning, Bobby picked up his car so early, it was still dark out. He unlocked the chain across one of the entrances to the car lot and then parked his rental behind the car lot office. Bobby walked over to get the car, a dark blue 2003 Mercury Sable GS. He threw its For Sale sign in the trunk. When he got in the car, the mix of cigarette smoke and a pine scent coming from the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror gave him a headache almost instantly. He started the car and hit the windshield wipers to get rid of the dew.
Bobby wanted to be at Ronnie’s house by 5:00 a.m. so he could get a baseline on everyone’s schedules. It was Saturday, so he didn’t expect to see any activity for a while. As usual, Bobby had a romance novel to pass the time. An older man, probably Ronnie’s dad, came out at ten to cut the grass. It took him thirty minutes. He cleaned up and puttered around the garage. About noon, Ronnie was the first to leave the house. Bobby followed him as he picked up two friends and then went to the movie theater. Bobby knew he’d have at least two hours, so he waited half an hour before going to look at Ronnie’s car. He bent down as if he’d dropped something and then attached a tracker inside the wheel well.
After the movie, Ronnie and friends went bowling and then went home. Ronnie left with his two friends at 11:00 p.m. to drive them home. He came back home alone.
On Sunday, the family left for church and went to the ten-forty-five service. Ronnie rode in the family car while his dad did the driving. After church, they stopped at a small diner for a bite to eat.
Monday would start a record of the most predictable schedule during the workweek. The first day was uneventful. The dad left first at 6:45 a.m. to go to work. Ronnie left at 8:30 wearing a shirt and tie. The mom was still home when Bobby left to follow Ronnie.
As the boy started down the street, Bobby tailed him. Ronnie seemed to be a cautious driver. After about thirty minutes, he pulled into a parking lot and went into a six-story building. Bobby quickly parked and tried to see where Ronnie had gone. Bobby stepped into the building just in time to see Ronnie get on the elevator alone. Then he watched as the elevator floor numbers stopped on the fifth floor. He looked at the office listings and saw an advertising company was located on the fifth floor.
Bobby took the elevator. It opened to a reception area with a handful of waiting people, but no Ronnie. Bobby walked up to the receptionist at the window. “What is it you guys do?”
“We sell advertising space in magazines,” the young woman said.
“Are you hiring?”
“Yes. Here’s an application. Just have a seat over there and fill it out.”
“Thank you.” Bobby turned and left. He dropped the application in the trash can by the elevator.
The stakeout would go on for a week, to establish the patterns of Ronnie and his parents. So far, it had been pretty boring. Mom never left the house alone much, while Dad went to work every day. The dad would come home in the evenings anywhere from five to eight. He was a plumber and worked for KC MO Plumbing. The dad would stop by the house in his plumbing truck at unpredictable times during the day, presumably between jobs.
With the fourth day in the books, it was pretty clear Ronnie was looking for a job. He was interviewing or dropping off resumes two or three times a day. He went to church on Wednesday night and took his mom with him. It started at seven, and the sign at the church said it was a prayer meeting. Bobby followed them home and planned to wait there a few minutes before going to the hotel.
Ronnie didn’t go out late at night, but he had two friends his age who stopped by often. They usually spent a few hours at his place, probably playing video games.
It was 9:00 p.m. when someone pounded on Bobby’s car window. He was pouring coffee from a thermos at the time, and it
startled him nearly to death. “Goddammit!” He jumped and reflexively ducked away from the sound.
“Who da fuck are ya, man?” came a deep voice.
Bobby fumbled with his coffee but managed to put the lid on it. He struggled to put the car into drive. A small group of people banged on the car with their hands.
“Ya sum kinda pervert, man?” a young black man shouted. “Think you’re real smart with the different cars? I oughta drag your ass outta there and beat the shit outta ya!”
Bobby finally got the car in gear and drove off. “Fuck, I’m too old for this shit,” he murmured to himself.
For the rest of the week, Bobby was extremely careful. He always parked in different locations where no one could sneak up on him again. He couldn’t wait until the week was over and he was told he could go home. He needed to change the batteries on the tracker before he left. The batteries would be good for two weeks. He hoped Ronnie and his friends would go to the movies again on Saturday, and they did. It gave him plenty of time to put new batteries in the tracker.
Bobby called Trish later in the week. “Ronnie’s a real choir boy. Job interviews during the week, movies on the weekend, church on Sundays. He even volunteers at a fucking homeless shelter.”
“Write it up when you get back,” Trish said.
Bobby had a feel for the family and friends, and now the tracker would show everywhere Ronnie drove. They could watch it live from Houston.
38
Houston
June 15, 2018, Friday
Case drove up to the back of the mortuary. The sun was rising. He paused for a second and faced the ascending sun, feeling the heat and feeling life. He stretched up his arms and took a few deep breaths.
I hope there’s a heaven.
Case tried the back door. It was unlocked. He easily found the room where Larry’s body was located along with an honorary guard. The young white-gloved police officer guarding the coffin had his back to Case and was startled when he noticed him.
