Dead Cold Mystery Box Set 4

by Blake Banner

  “One hundred and ten dollars.”

  I took a pull and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “He wasn’t going very far on that in Geneva, was he?”

  She stared at me a while, half wincing, like her mind hurt. “What the hell was he planning to do in Geneva?”

  “What is Geneva famous for, Dehan?”

  “Banks…?” She looked away. “What the hell was he up to?” I drew breath, but she held up a hand. “No, wait, I got this. Just let me think for a minute.”

  The waitress came with the beef melts, told us to enjoy and went away. I was halfway through mine when Dehan looked at me and said: “He had built a whole, damn fantasy in his mind. Like his sister said he did. You know what?” Her cheeks colored. “I could take Fernando and beat seven bales of shit out of that son of a bitch.” She pointed at me. “Sue and Cyril didn’t get close the night of the party. They were already getting close, but as friends. Anyone who managed to get below the surface with Cyril says the same thing: He was a nice guy. And Sue was a nice girl. And because of Fernando’s interfering, they started to get to know each other. Trouble is, Cyril fell in love and built this big fantasy about her. He was planning something.” She paused, staring at nothing. “He was smart and I am willing to bet my next paycheck that he was planning some kind of heist, robbery, swindle—some smart way to make a lot of money. And in his fantasy, him and Sue were going to escape together to Switzerland, where he was opening, or had opened, a bank account. That is why he was going to Switzerland and that is why there was practically no money in his account. Because he had already transferred it.”

  I spoke around a mouthful of food. “If I suggested something like that to you, you’d tell me it was a hell of a reach based on very little.”

  “Think about it, Stone. He hands in his notice at work, why? Because he won’t need to work anymore. He hands in his notice with his landlord. Why? Because he won’t need to live there anymore. He goes to Switzerland. Why? For the banks. His account, despite the fact that he is moving house, is empty! Why? Because he has transferred the funds to another account. I bet when I look at these records properly, I will find a large transfer just before Halloween 2006.”

  I nodded. “I am sure you will.”

  She finally picked up her melt. “And I’ll tell you something else, that son of a bitch Fernando and his pal Giorgio killed Sue and framed Cyril. As far as I am concerned they may as well have put a gun to his head and shot him too. And they are going down for it.”

  TWELVE

  We got back to Elk Grove at shortly before 8 PM. Dehan had managed to book two seats on a Jet Blue flight out of Sacramento at just before midnight, landing at JFK at ten past 8 in the morning, just five hours later. So we packed, had a light supper at the Little Buddha Thai restaurant and tried to sleep the best we could on the plane.

  The best we could was about three hours and we climbed off next morning, in a dark, frozen, cloudy New York, feeling ragged and unhappy. We found the Jaguar in the parking garage where we had left it, and it whispered to me of home, of log fires and a long sleep on the sofa. I told Dehan what the Burgundy Beast had whispered to me and she frowned disapproval, first at me and then at my car. Her expression said we should meet with the inspector and decide on a strategy for proving Fernando and Giorgio’s guilt. I pretended not to notice and unlocked the trunk.

  It was as we were chucking our bags in that my phone rang. It was the inspector.

  “Good morning, sir. I hope you had a good sleep. We managed a little less than three hours.”

  Dehan made a face that was scandalized and spread her hands in a ‘What?’ gesture. I shrugged and the Inspector said, “Where are you? Are you back yet?”

  “We literally just this very moment got off the plane.”

  “Good. As soon as you get to the precinct, come up and see me.”

  “About eight tomorrow morning, sir?”

  There was a long silence, then a slight wheezing noise. “Oh… I see… I didn’t get it at first. Very funny. I didn’t realize, John, that you had a sense of humor. Very good. I’ll see you in about forty minutes.” As he hung up I heard him mutter, “What a character…”

  I slammed the trunk and climbed in behind the wheel. We drove in sleepy silence out of the airport complex, but as we were joining the Van Wyck Expressway headed north, Dehan, who was sitting with her arms crossed and her brows knitted, shifted in her seat to look at me. Outside, everything seemed to be various shades of gray, and frosted, like a Christmas cake smothered in soot.

  “What’s up?” she demanded. “That’s not like you at all.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “Wanting to go home when we’re wrapping up a case. Usually you’re a pain in the ass who won’t let anybody rest.”

  I made a face that suggested she was making a big deal out of very little. “I figure the case has been cold for twelve years, we can take a few hours to catch up on sleep.”

  But even as I was saying it, the words were troubling me. She was right. Something was nagging at my mind. Something that was not good. We sped past two large trucks that were spitting sludge and spray from their wheels and I became aware that I had started accelerating without realizing it. Dehan said:

  “Wait a minute. You’ve… son of a gun! You solved it, didn’t you? You know what happened!”

  I glanced at her, only partly aware of what she was saying. After a while I said, “Yes…”

  “When?”

  “Yesterday, at the library. But there were things I needed to confirm. I confirmed them in Reno. But there is something troubling me, Dehan.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Stone? It’s not nice when you do this. We’re supposed to share, you know?”

  I nodded. Chewing my lip. “I know. I was wrong…”

  “At least you can admit it. So tell me, what happened.”

  “No, I mean I was wrong about the case. It’s not finished yet. We need to… God damn it!”

  I floored the pedal and hit 110MPH through Queens, crossed the Bronx-Whitestone Bridge into Throggs Neck and five minutes later, I was skidding to a halt outside the station house on Fteley Avenue. As we climbed the stairs to the inspector’s office, Dehan said, “OK, you scared me half to death by doing a hundred and ten in a sixty-eight-year-old car in the sleet and snow, now you want to tell me what the hell…”

  I interrupted her. “Put it together, Dehan! Marion, Mary, Xara, Jose Rodriguez, Fernando…”

  I ran up the remaining stairs. She called after me: “What?”

  I called over my shoulder, “I can’t explain now. There’s no time!”

  I knocked and pushed in without waiting for a reply. The inspector looked up from his desk. “Ah, John, Carmen…”

  She was coming through the door. I said, “Is it Fernando Martinez?”

  He frowned and blinked. Then his eyebrows arched. “Good Lord, John, how on Earth…?”

  Dehan closed the door and said sourly, “Don’t bother, sir. He won’t tell you.”

  “Sit down, both of you, please. I am keen to hear about your trip to Sacramento…and Reno! But first I need to tell you. As you requested, I had Fernando Martinez and Giorgio Gonzalez run through the system to see if they had any priors out of state. Your hunch was good. Not Giorgio, but Fernando. He is wanted on several charges of violence against women, in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. The offenses range from assault and assault with a deadly weapon to attempted rape and rape. His latest brush with the law was in New Jersey. A complaint was made by a prostitute at a club in Newark. She claimed he beat her up, but she later dropped the charges.”

  “I knew it!” Dehan balled her fist and punched me on the shoulder. “I knew it!”

  The inspector made a face of bemusement and gave a small laugh. “There is the small matter of the DNA sample…”

  She was already shaking her head. “We have a theory that could explain that, sir…”

  “You have…?”

  He t
urned and watched me pull out my phone. I dialed. It rang once and Frank said, “I was about to call you.”

  “That’s what they all say, but they never call. Listen, did you find anything on the semen distribution?”

  I watched the inspector frown at Dehan. Frank said, “That’s what I was going to call you about.” I put him on speaker phone and placed the phone on the desk. “You have to understand that this is not enough to clinch a case, John. With other evidence, it can be persuasive. The fact is I did that autopsy myself. I don’t remember it, but they are my notes. You’re lucky I am thorough in my work, and I did notice that the semen was not pooled at the end but, in fact, smeared around the walls of the vagina. Now, that can be caused by several things, amongst them very energetic or athletic intercourse. However, it is consistent with the scenario you proposed, where semen collected in a condom is then introduced into the victim’s vagina in order to frame somebody else.”

  There was a moment’s silence. “Thanks, Frank. I understand. I’ll be in touch.”

  He hung up and we sat staring at the inspector, who sat staring back at us. After a moment, he heaved a deep sigh and slumped back in his chair. Dehan said, “We should contact some of his victims, see if they’ll talk to us. We might get something from them.”

  He slid the file across the desk to her. “Talk to Melanie Delano in Jersey. I’m not sending you to New Mexico.”

  We stood and I opened the door. As I was about to step out, the inspector said, “John? Carmen? Sooner or later there has to be a case that just can’t be cracked…”

  Dehan nodded, but I frowned. “Oh, I’ve cracked it, sir. I know who did it: how and why. I just need to prove it.”

  Halfway down the stairs, Dehan said, “It’s Fernando, right?”

  “We need the evidence, Dehan. Call Melanie, will you? Arrange to see her this morning. We’ll drive over to Jersey, but I want to pass by Giorgio’s place first.”

  We stepped out into the freezing, blustery wind again and made our way toward the car on unsteady feet while Dehan dialed. As we climbed in, she spoke suddenly in a bright, friendly voice. “Hi! Is that Melanie? Hi! It’s so nice to talk to you! Listen, you were recommended to me by a friend…?”

  She gave the statement the intonation of a question. I rolled my eyes and fired up the beast. As we rolled out onto Storey Avenue, she was saying: “She said you provided special services…” She squealed with laughter and curled up. “I know! Right? So I would like to book a session? For me and my husband…?” Another squeal of laughter. “Life’s too short! Right? Can you see us later this morning? I’ll pay extra for the short notice. It’s his birthday and I just know… You will? Eleven thirty? Oh you are a doll! Thank you so much! Can’t wait!” She hung up and grinned.

  I shook my head. “Who are you? You scare me sometimes.”

  “I know! Right?” She chortled, and after a moment said, “OK, partner, come clean. What was all that about Marion, Mary, Xara, Jose Rodriguez… How was any of that an answer to my question?”

  I turned onto Sound View Avenue and began to accelerate south.

  “You know the way ninety-nine percent of cases are all about sex?”

  “I’d say a bit less, but yes.”

  “This one is, in some ways, no different. It is all about sex, but it is Freudian sex.”

  “Freudian sex…?”

  “Yeah, this is all about Cyril’s mother.”

  She sighed, took hold of her long hair and tied it into a knot behind her head. Then she sucked her teeth. Then she sighed again. “OK, go on.”

  “Every woman in this case is, to a greater or lesser extent, a reflection of Cyril’s mother…”

  “OK, maybe, but how does that help? And how does it clinch who killed Sue, or tell us why or how? Besides, Stone, I very much doubt that Fernando or Giorgio knew anything about Cyril’s mother. And also, how does Jose Rodriguez come into it?”

  I turned onto Thieriot Avenue. “See? If you had listened instead of talking, I might have had time to explain. But we’re here now, so it will have to wait.”

  “Dork.”

  I turned into Lacombe and drove down Taylor Avenue, to pull up outside Giorgio’s place. Then I leaned on the horn for ten seconds, which, if you count them out, is a long time to lean on a horn. By the time I’d finished, Dehan was staring at me like I had lost my mind. “What the hell are you doing?”

  I smiled. “Announcing our arrival.”

  That didn’t change her expression. She climbed out of the car and I followed. Giorgio was watching us from his window. We climbed the steps to his porch and he opened the door.

  “That’s a lot of noise you’re making there. What can I do for you, detectives?”

  “I just have a couple of questions for you, Giorgio. You told us you were with three prostitutes the night Sue was killed.”

  “So what?”

  “It was a lie, wasn’t it?”

  He didn’t answer. He just watched me.

  “So, what I would like to know is, did you hire the prostitutes for Cyril?”

  His eyes narrowed but he still didn’t say anything.

  I gave him a moment longer and said, “OK, how about Fernando and his record of violence against women? Do you participate or just try to cover for him and protect him?”

  “Are you arresting me on some charge?”

  “Not yet, but these are questions you will have to answer sooner rather than later. These and others.” I placed my finger on his chest. “And take my advice, Giorgio. One of these days, there is going to be a knock at your door. Trick or treat. You better be ready.”

  I went down the steps back to the car and, across the road, I saw Sandy Beach looking out of her window at us. I turned to Dehan, who was still looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “Just give me a minute, will you? I’ll be right back.”

  I crossed the road and pushed through Sandy’s gate onto the path that led to her front door. It opened before I got there. She was smiling. “Hello, Detective. I couldn’t help noticing you outside Giorgio’s house. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I don’t know, Ms. Beach. It’s a long shot, but we’re kind of against the ropes. We’re a little concerned about Fernando, you know, Giorgio’s friend?”

  She frowned. “Yes, I know him slightly. Concerned about him why, Detective?”

  “I can’t really discuss the details, ma’am, but have you noticed any comings and goings at the house? Any women who might be…”

  She gave a little gasp. “You mean… professional?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Goodness…! No, I can’t say I have. They do have rather rowdy parties sometimes, but since I had a word with Giorgio, they seem to have moderated a bit.”

  “Can I give you my card…” I pulled one from my pocket and handed it to her. “And if you notice anything odd, we are particularly interested in Fernando, perhaps you could give me a call.”

  “Of course.”

  “In fact, can I have your number?” I pulled out another card and gave her my pen. She hesitated a moment, then wrote down her number on the back of the second card and handed it and the pen back to me. “I am very grateful, Ms. Beach.”

  “Sandy, please. Ms. Beach makes me sound so old!” She laughed, then became serious. “Giorgio isn’t in any trouble, is he, Detective? I confess I have become rather attached to him.”

  I looked back at the house. Dehan had gotten back in the car. I could see Giorgio’s form at the window, watching me. I said, “It’s Fernando we are mainly interested in, Sandy, but my advice to you would be to keep your distance.” I looked her in the eye. “Off the record, don’t get involved with them. They are dangerous men.”

  There was real sadness in her eyes. “They’re always either married or bastards, aren’t they?” she said.

  I gave a small laugh. “Often they’re both, and that’s just the women. The men are worse.”

  She laughed and slapped my arm. I said g
oodbye and returned to the car. I got behind the wheel and called the inspector. “Sir, can we have a discreet watch on Giorgio and Fernando for the next twenty-four hours?”

  “If you’re sure we need it, of course.”

  “I’m sure, sir. Maybe Santos and Clay, and Warren and Groves. They’re good and reliable.”

  “Very well. Anything I need to know?”

  “No, sir, not just yet. But tell them to be very discreet, very alert and ready for the unexpected. We’re on our way to Jersey. We’ll be in touch.”

  I turned the key in the ignition and moved north up Taylor Avenue, back toward Soundview.

  Dehan sighed. “Jersey?”

  “No. Not yet. First, we are going to see Frank. Then our lady of the midmorning.”

  “Why Frank? Is there any point in my asking?”

  “Yes, of course. Frank because I am increasingly worried about Fernando and Giorgio. They are dissolute, dangerous men.”

  She closed her eyes and crossed her arms. “You are so annoying!”

  “I promise I will explain everything on the way to Jersey. Scout’s honor.”

  I didn’t tell her I was never a scout.

  THIRTEEN

  The visit to Frank took less than five minutes, and Dehan stayed in the car, sulking. I ran in, had a brief chat with him, and trotted back out again, trying not to fall. Dehan was behind the wheel. I had a private chuckle with myself and got in the passenger side.

  “It was either this, to work off my frustration, or beat you to death with my fists.”

  I laughed. “You made the right choice. The other could take a long time.”

  She turned the key. The big engine growled and we took off down Morris Park Avenue like she was after the kid who just took her baby brother’s lunch money. I gave her a moment and said, tentatively, “You want me to tell you…”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Dehan. Don’t get mad.”

  “I’m not mad.”

  “Your face is mad.”

  “Thanks.”

  We drove in silence for a couple of minutes. Eventually, I said, “You’re my partner, Dehan. I have to tell you my theory,” and regretted it immediately.