by Steven Henry
Erin pointed to the patch of carpet Rolf had investigated. Rolf followed her finger with his eyes and wagged his tail. He’d already checked that spot. He was waiting for further instructions.
“So now Stone had a body to get rid of,” she said. “He needed hotel security to do that. Lucky for him, the security chief was a corrupt ex-cop who could be bought. Caldwell doctored the elevator cameras and cut power to the third floor. Then he carried the body down and stashed it. No, that doesn’t play. How did he get the body out? He wouldn’t have risked running into someone in the hallway or on the elevator. He had to have hidden it somehow.”
She looked around the room, seeking inspiration, and came up with nothing.
“What am I missing?” she asked her dog.
Rolf wagged his tail. He had complete faith in her.
There was a knock on the door. “Housekeeping!” a female voice called in accented English.
Erin cursed quietly. Stu had been a little too efficient. She went to the door and opened it to reveal Rosa Hernandez with her cleaning cart.
“I am so sorry,” Rosa said. “I clean the room quickly. Maybe you want to go and come back? Twenty, thirty minutes.”
“No, that’s okay,” Erin said. “Rosa, I need you to do something for me.”
The maid did a double-take at the sound of her own name. Then recognition dawned in her eyes. “You were here with the police,” she said.
“I still am,” Erin said. “Can you help me?”
“I do not want trouble,” Rosa said, looking nervously around.
“You’re not in any trouble. But there’s important evidence in this room. You can’t clean it yet.” Then her eyes went past Rosa to the cart. It had shelves in the middle, on which fresh towels and rolls of toilet paper were piled. But on either end were big yellow plastic bags. Were they big enough?
“Rosa,” Erin said. “You were working in the morning, when you found the woman in the water. When did you come to work?”
“Eight o’ clock,” she said. “I work twelve hours, eight until eight.”
“Who did you replace?”
“I do not understand.”
“Who worked the night shift before you?”
“Josefina.”
“What’s Josefina’s last name?”
Rosa shook her head. “I want no one to be in trouble.”
Erin put a hand on Rosa’s shoulder. The Latina was trembling. “Are you worried Josefina will get in trouble? Be deported, maybe? Is she in this country illegally?”
Rosa hesitated. Then, hearing only compassion in Erin’s voice, she nodded.
“Does anyone who works at the hotel know that about her?” Erin asked.
Rosa nodded again. “Mr. Caldwell,” she said. “And Mr. Feldspar. They know about… all of us. It is cheaper for them to hire us. We work for less money.”
“I need to talk with her,” Erin said. “If she cooperates with us, I promise, she won’t be deported.”
“Her name is Josefina Perez.”
“Thank you. Now please, Rosa, don’t touch anything in this room. It’s very important.”
Rosa nodded unhappily. She stood there in the hallway, clutching one of her elbows. She was clearly frightened. “They will know,” she said quietly.
“What? Who will know?” Erin asked sharply.
Rosa flinched. “They see everything, they know everything that happens here. I will lose my job.”
“Feldspar and Caldwell?”
But Rosa just clamped her lips together and shook her head, refusing to say more.
Erin had a sudden thought, remembering what Polk had said in his interrogation. She turned away from the housekeeper and looked at the bedroom. She wasn’t looking at the furniture now. She was looking for places to hide something. Something very small.
“There’ll be one over the bed,” she said softly. “And maybe in the bathroom.”
She walked to the bed and looked up. A ceiling fan and light fixture hung there. The rest of the ceiling was featureless white plaster. She carefully put a foot on the bedframe and another on the headboard to avoid trampling any evidence on the sheets. Rolf stood at the base of the bed and looked curiously up at her.
Erin peered at the fan. For a moment she didn’t see it. Then she did; the tiny, shiny eye of a miniature camera lens.
“Gotcha,” she said again. “You son of a bitch.”
That camera changed everything. Erin hauled out her phone and dialed Webb.
“You’re in?” Webb asked.
“I’m in,” she confirmed. “Sir, where are you?”
“I just grabbed a hot dog off a street cart. I’m half a block down the way.”
“Can you get back here?”
“You’ve got something?” He suddenly sounded more energized.
“I know how Stone did it,” she said. “And I know who helped him. Bring Feldspar up with you.”
“You sure you want him in on this?”
“I’m sure. Don’t let him leave.”
Chapter 15
“Here we are, O’Reilly,” Webb said. He was standing half a step behind Feldspar in room 503’s doorway, in a posture Erin recognized. He was making sure the other man didn’t make a run for it. Feldspar looked uncomfortable and nervous, sweating through the collar of his expensive suit.
“I’d be happy to assist with anything the New York Police Department needs,” Feldspar said. “But I do have some urgent business to attend to. I can put you in touch with the assistant manager if you’d like.”
“He’s not kidding about the urgent business,” Webb said. “He was trying to sneak out the back when I found him.”
“I wasn’t sneaking anywhere,” Feldspar protested. “My car is parked out back.”
“Hurrying, then,” Webb amended.
“C’mon in,” Erin said. “We need to talk, Mr. Feldspar.”
The manager glanced over his shoulder. Webb wasn’t a physically imposing man. But middle-aged, balding, and overweight as he was, he could still project authority when he wanted to. Feldspar swallowed and entered the room. Webb followed him in, closing the door behind him and standing in front of it.
“I’m going to tell you what happened in this room,” Erin said. “There was a charity dinner a couple nights ago in the ballroom downstairs. One of the attendees was a guy named Wendell J. Stone.”
“The third,” Webb added with a slight smile.
“He’s a rich guy, from a powerful family up in Boston,” she went on. “He’s used to being able to get what he wants. Usually he uses his money or his connections, but he’s not above a little pharmaceutical assistance. He wanted a pretty girl on his arm at dinner, and in his bed after.”
“Please, ma’am,” Feldspar said. “You don’t have to go into all that—”
“He knew about a modeling agency called Ethereal Angels,” she cut him off. “They would provide an escort for dinner. That’s often understood to be code for a call girl, but in this case, the wires must have gotten crossed. They didn’t loan him a hooker for the evening. They hired out an innocent modelnamed Sarah Devers.
“It’s possible he requested someone more innocent,” Erin allowed. “Maybe he liked the idea of seducing her. In any case, after dinner, he invited her up to his room for a drink. Then he tried to put the moves on her. But she wasn’t having any of it. There was a struggle. A gentleman would’ve given up and let her go. But not Stone. He was going to get what he’d paid for.
“He had the drugs with him. He’d already suspected he might have to take steps. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it. So he apologized, said he wouldn’t try anything else, gave her a drink to calm her down. But the drink had a little something extra in it.
“Rohypnol can be tricky to dose someone with. Get the amount wrong and it can really mess with you. And it can interact with alcohol. Sarah got sick. She threw up there on the bed, then stumbled into the bathroom and passed out. Stone wasn’t too scared yet. This was not
hing he couldn’t handle. Until he realized she wasn’t breathing.”
Erin paused and looked closely at Feldspar. He was sweating more visibly and seemed to have tied his necktie too tightly. He was working at it with his fingers, trying to loosen his collar.
“I’ll give Stone this,” she said. “He didn’t want Sarah to die. But all he had to go on was some old CPR training. He should’ve called 911. That might have saved her life, if the paramedics had gotten here fast enough.”
She met Feldspar’s eye as he tried to look away. “There was a lot of that going on. More than one person could have saved her life.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said.
Erin walked over to the bed. For the second time, she jumped up on the mattress. She pulled on a new plastic glove from the roll in her pocket, reached up, and yanked on the ceiling fan. The miniature camera came loose in her hand. It trailed a thin power cable and hung there like a discarded fishing lure.
“What’s that?” Feldspar asked, his voice a faint croak.
“Spy camera,” she said. “Illegal, of course.”
The manager cleared his throat. “You don’t have a search warrant,” he said.
“I’m a paying customer of the hotel,” she said. “I’m on the books downstairs. I discovered an illegal surveillance device in my room, and I’m reporting it to the proper authorities. Lieutenant Webb?”
“Duly noted,” Webb said. “The NYPD is prepared to take your statement, Detective O’Reilly. I’ll call it in.”
“Our CSU guys are really good,” Erin said. “Don’t worry, Mr. Feldspar. They should be able to figure out where this camera’s signal goes. We’ll know within the next couple of hours who’s been spying on your hotel’s guests.”
“Thank you,” he said. “If that’s all, I should really report this to the board of directors.” He turned toward the door.
“You’re not going anywhere until we clear this up, sir,” Webb said. “You see, we have to assume the perpetrator is a hotel employee. For all we know, it might be you.”
Feldspar looked from Webb to Erin and back again. He licked his lips nervously. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.
“You saw it happen,” Erin said quietly. “You knew who killed Sarah the whole time. Did you watch while it was happening?”
Erin had a good eye for human weakness. After twelve years wearing a shield, she could usually tell when a perp was about to crack. She saw Feldspar crumble.
He nodded miserably. “Yes. I watched. He put her on the bed and they… she… oh God. I didn’t do anything. It wasn’t me!”
“No, you didn’t do anything,” Erin said with quiet contempt. “You just watched a girl die. Because that’s what you do, Nick. You watch.”
“I can’t help it,” he said. “I’ve tried to stop. I can’t. It’s like a drug. You don’t understand. And what was the harm? No one ever knew about it. I didn’t show the tapes to anyone.”
“There’s tapes?” Webb asked. “Where?”
“My office. On a thumb drive.”
Webb had his phone out almost before Feldspar finished the sentence, calling in reinforcements. “This is Webb, Major Crimes, shield six-four-four-two. I need two units to the InterContinental Hotel, manager’s office. They are to secure the office. No one goes in, nothing comes out. And I need a CSU team with someone who can do data retrieval, forthwith.”
While Webb was on the phone, Erin focused on Feldspar. The manager was actually in tears.
“Did you get the whole thing on film?” she asked.
He nodded.
“How did it happen?”
“Like you said,” he whispered. “After a couple of minutes, Mr. Stone stopped pounding on her chest. Then he made a call, to the security desk I assume. Mr. Caldwell met him in the hallway. I don’t know what they did out there.”
“You only have hidden cameras in the rooms,” she said.
“That’s right. Then they came into the room and looked at… at her. Then Mr. Caldwell made a phone call. A few minutes later, Josefina came in. He talked to her for a little while.”
“What did they say?”
“I don’t know. The cameras don’t have audio. Just images.”
Erin nodded. “Go on.”
“Caldwell and Josefina took the… the body to the door. They took her outside. Josefina came back in after about ten minutes. She washed the bathroom and put some cleaner on the carpet and the sheets. Then she left.”
“She didn’t do a very good job,” Webb observed. He’d gotten off the phone and was listening with interest.
“No,” Erin said, “she didn’t. She should’ve taken the dirty sheets away and replaced them. It’s almost like she wanted evidence left behind.”
“I need to talk to Josefina,” Webb said. “Obviously.”
“What then?” Erin asked Feldspar.
“That was it,” he said. “Mr. Caldwell came back to the room and spoke with Mr. Stone in the doorway. Mr. Stone gave him something. Money, I think. Then Mr. Stone went to bed.”
“He just went to sleep,” Webb said, shaking his head. “After overdosing a girl right there in the room. Unbelievable.”
“And you didn’t tell us,” Erin said.
“I thought… what difference did it make?” Feldspar said. “I couldn’t help her. And I thought… I thought no one would see her again. Young women disappear in this city all the time. People would think she’d just run away or something. It might be better for her… for her family. To have hope. But then Rosa found her in the fish tank.”
“Josefina and Caldwell were supposed to make the body disappear,” Erin said. “But it didn’t happen that way. I wonder why. And I wonder whether you really believe that line of bullshit you just gave us.”
“What could I do?” he protested. “What would I say? That I’d been spying on hotel guests? I’d lose my job and go to jail.”
“And now that’s happening anyway,” Erin said, taking out her handcuffs.
“Please!” he begged. “I told you everything!”
“You left us chasing our tails for days,” she said. “You tried to weasel out of everything. The only reason you’re talking now is because we already found you out and you’ve got nothing left to lose. You’re pathetic. Nicholas Feldspar, you’re under arrest for violation of the Sexually Violent Predator Law for placing unlawful surveillance equipment in a bedroom for the purpose of sexual gratification. We’re also taking you in as an accessory after the fact for the murder of Sarah Devers. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”
Erin had to talk louder as she continued reading the Miranda warning, because the hapless manager had dissolved into sobs. She had to pull his hands away from his face in order to get the cuffs on him.
Webb’s phone rang while he, Erin, and Rolf were in the elevator with Feldspar. Erin saw Vic’s name on the screen as her commanding officer brought the phone to his ear.
“Talk to me, Neshenko,” he said.
They were standing close enough that Erin could faintly hear Vic’s reply.
“Sir, you better get back here right now.”
“What’s happening?” Webb asked sharply.
“Lawyers.”
“I thought we had more time,” Webb said. “How’d they get down from Boston so fast?”
“He must have a local firm on retainer. What do you want me to do?”
“Don’t let Stone out of the building. Keep him in holding as long as you can, then move him to interrogation with his lawyers. Drag your feet every step of the way. Filibuster. We’re coming.”
Webb hung up and sighed.
“What’s the big deal, sir?” Erin asked. “We can hold him overnight if we want to.”
“Not if the Captain tells us to release him.”
“Why the hell would Holliday do that? He’ll have our back.”
“If the PC orders him to, he won’t have a choic
e.”
The elevator arrived at the ground floor. A pair of uniforms were waiting in the lobby.
“Sir,” one of them said. “We’ve got the office secured. CSU’s on the way.”
“Good,” Webb said. He thought for a moment. “O’Reilly, you better stay here. Get the film, then get back to the Eightball as fast as you can. I’ll buy you some time.”
“Just a second, sir,” Erin said. She turned to Feldspar. “Listen to me. You want to make the murder accessory charges disappear?”
Feldspar lifted his head a little. “How?”
“Give us the correct thumb drive. Cooperate. Help us get the guy who killed Sarah. We’ll find the film anyway, sooner or later. If you make it hard for us, it’ll be worse for you.”
Feldspar was completely defeated. He nodded obediently, almost pathetically eager to please. “Okay. Anything you need.”
They took the manager into his soon-to-be-former office. Two more Patrol officers were there, keeping an eye on things.
“Left desk drawer,” Feldspar said.
Erin pulled on her gloves and opened the drawer. “I don’t see anything,” she said. “Just office supplies. You yanking me around?”
“You need to pull the drawer all the way out,” he said. “Look behind it.”
She jiggled the drawer loose from its runners and pulled it free. A slim thumb drive with a USB port was stuck to the back with a piece of masking tape.
“This it?” she asked.
Feldspar nodded.
“Is there any encryption on it?”
He shook his head.
She curled her fingers around it and fished out an evidence bag.
“Let’s go,” Webb said.
They used the Charger’s lights and siren as if someone’s life depended on them getting back to the station as fast as humanly possible. Rolf, riding in his compartment, loved every minute of it. The only way the Shepherd would have enjoyed it more would have been for the windows to be rolled down so he could stick his head out.
