Killer Winter

by Kay Bigelow

  Leah’s heart sank at the answer. “Does she know you and I are married?”

  “Yes, I told her a few weeks before we married that I was going to marry you.”

  “So she could assume this is where I’d come if I were going to conduct an investigation in secret. Or if I wanted to hide.”

  “How would she know you were conducting an investigation outside the precinct?”

  “If she knew we were married, she could guess I’d come here, don’t you think?”

  “You’re sounding paranoid, love,” Quinn said.

  “There are no fingerprints, no DNA, no chemicals, and it’s not a bomb,” Cots said as he entered the living room and handed the envelope to Leah.

  Leah carefully opened it and removed a folded piece of paper. She slipped the envelope into the evidence bag that Peony held out for her. She slowly unfolded the piece of paper, hoping Cots was right about there being no chemical agents.

  “Lieutenant Samuels, you need to look no further than your wife’s lover for a suspect.”

  The note was unsigned, of course. They had a typed note incriminating Stephanie Grandini in the killing field murders, but nothing to substantiate the accusation, not even a partial fingerprint. What good was it except to act as a distraction and send them on a wild-goose chase? But if it was true, then someone was trying to help. Regardless, the author of the note knew way more about her personal life than she was comfortable with. And she could kiss her career good-bye if an anonymous note writer had been willing to incriminate a mob boss in a murder, because once the police began questioning Grandini, the paper would get hold of the story and her personal life would be grist for their mills. Leah looked at Quinn, but her expression was unreadable, her shoulders stiff and slightly raised.

  “What can we surmise from this note?” Leah asked Peony.

  “That he or she knows about your marriage to Quinn, that she knows about Quinn’s extramarital affair with Grandini, and she’s telling you she knows where you are. She also thinks that now that you know about Quinn, you’ll try to make the accusation in the note stick to Grandini.” She paused. “Or it’s straight up telling us who is responsible, and there’s nothing more to it than that.”

  “Good analysis. What should we do about it?” Leah asked.

  “Take Grandini into custody and question her about any involvement in the killing field murders,” Peony said.

  “What, exactly, do we have that would allow us to question her?”

  To Peony’s credit, she sat thinking before answering. “We have nothing to tie her to the murders.”

  “Exactly. This is a wild-goose chase. My gut tells me it’s meant to distract us from proceeding with our investigation of the murders. It’s too simple, too convenient to have a suspect handed to us. So, who might do something like this?” Leah asked.

  Peony didn’t have an answer. Then a thought flew through Leah’s mind. “What if the note isn’t really about the investigation?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if the writer of the note simply wanted me to know about Quinn and Grandini?” Leah asked.

  Her gut told her it was Grandini. She wants me to know about her and Quinn. But why? And why now?

  “I think that’s quite a stretch, Leah,” Quinn said. “Are you going to believe an anonymous note writer or me? Why would you do that?”

  Cots and Peony both left Leah and Quinn alone to have a conversation that had nothing to do with either of them or the case they were investigating.

  Leah refused to give up Cots for having told her the truth. “All right, Quinn. I’ll ask you straight out. Are you having an affair with Grandini, and have you been feeding her information about my cases?”

  “Fuck it, Leah, how could you possibly think that?” Quinn asked before storming out of the room and slamming the bedroom door.

  Leah’s heart sank in a sea of disappointment. She knew, then, with certainty, the allegations against Quinn were true because Quinn only ever stormed out of a room when she was cornered. Otherwise she’d have stayed and tried to talk her way around the issue. She would no longer be able to trust Quinn, but strangely and to her immense surprise, she could continue to trust Cots.

  The vid screen with the news on it dinged softly to alert them that there was breaking news about to be announced. Leah hadn’t even noticed the vid screen was still on.

  “Should I turn it up?” Peony asked, returning to the living room followed by Cots.

  Leah nodded, glad for the distraction.

  “The police are reporting that they’ve received reliable information about the bombing of the police station house,” the reporter intoned solemnly. “Their sources indicate that a gang calling themselves the Devarian Kings have taken responsibility for the bombing. We’ll have more as this important story develops.”

  “They’re making that up,” Cots said hotly.

  “Who is ‘they’?” Leah asked.

  “The police,” he said. “Someone. It’s a lie.”

  “Cots, we’re pretty sure we know who’s responsible for the bombing. And with luck, the team investigating it will be able to prove it was Weston. But we have to stay undercover until we solve the murders in the killing field.”

  “In the meantime, the vigilantes will begin hunting down Devarians, as will the police,” Cots said bitterly.

  “What would you have us do? Abandon the killing field investigation, go running out into the open to become targets?” Leah asked.

  “No,” he conceded, looking defeated rather than angry.

  “The faster we close the investigation and figure out how everything is connected, the quicker we can arrest the murderers and exonerate the Devarians.”

  “What will happen if we can’t solve the murders, Boss?” Peony went to Cots’s side and took his hand.

  “We may have a civil war on our hands. People of both races have been itching for a rematch of the Devarian War for years.” Leah wondered what the point was of starting a civil war. How would the players in this game benefit? More questions without answers.

  “Why are the Devarians wanting a rematch? They won the war,” Peony said, looking up at Cots.

  “They want revenge for years of feeling unwelcome,” Cots said.

  “For feeling unwelcome? What are they, ten?” Peony asked incredulously.

  Leah laughed. “Both sides are.” She wondered if this new information had any bearing on the killing field case. She decided it didn’t and was only a consequence of the city’s people being afraid. The sooner we get the case solved, the sooner things will return to some semblance of normalcy. “Cots, why don’t you call the governor and drop an anonymous tip that Weston was responsible for bombing the Forty-fourth and the crime lab complex. That might cool down the urge to blame the Kings, who we know for certain are innocent.”

  “Why don’t I call him and have a chat?” Quinn asked as she returned to the living room.

  Leah had temporarily forgotten Quinn was in tight with the governor. But who the hell doesn’t she know? “Go ahead.” Leah watched as Quinn dialed a number from memory. Everything she does convinces me she’s betrayed me, but with how many people?

  “Robert, it’s Quinn,” Quinn said when the governor answered his phone. She was quiet as the governor spoke. “I didn’t get to ask you earlier. How are Carole and the kids holding up?”

  Leah rolled her eyes. She was too used to being a cop and getting right down to what she needed to know. This business of polite chitchat was way beyond her abilities. Wait! Did she just say she’d called the governor earlier? Why?

  “Someday, Robert, someday,” Quinn said.

  Leah wondered what the governor had asked.

  “Listen, Robert. I know for certain the Devarian Kings aren’t responsible for the bombings, so why are the police saying it was them?”

  Leah watched Quinn’s expression, but she wasn’t giving anything away.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t lie to you,
you know that,” Quinn said, cutting her eyes briefly toward Leah. “Besides, what proof is there that they’re involved?”

  Quinn listened to the governor. “That’s all I’m asking, Robert. Tell your police to look at a guy named Weston from the Forty-fourth precinct. He was moved to the Eighty-sixth. I have it on good authority he’s your bomber.” She listened again, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yes, let’s do get together for dinner. Thanks for listening.”

  Leah was amazed Quinn had acquired the skill to chat up people. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, considering she was in the business of buying and selling. But Devarians were known for their stoicism and, some said, their lack of being able to laugh. Leah’s skills in small talk weren’t exactly stellar either. She tried, but she always ended up skipping all the niceties because she wasn’t really interested in the answers to the chitchat questions.

  When Quinn hung up, she was silent. When she finally realized Leah was staring at her, Quinn said, “Something is going on with Robert. He was abrupt and seemed to be playing at being affable. He was holding something back, I feel certain. Maybe there was someone in the room with him. Maybe I’m getting paranoid, too.”

  “We should all be paranoid at this stage. We don’t know who we can trust.” Leah knew her words had bite to them, and when Quinn flinched slightly, she felt bad. But only fleetingly when she thought about the miles of secrets that lay between them.

  “It doesn’t make any sense. Let’s add this to the page that’s headed ‘Things That Make No Sense About This Case,’” Leah said with a tired smile.

  “We have a page for that?” Peony scanned the board, searching.

  “Only in my head.”

  “Why don’t you simply call Grandini and ask her if she’s involved in any way?” Quinn asked.

  “Do you think she’d be truthful?” Leah asked. She really didn’t think Grandini was involved. But then, she was a mob boss, so who the hell knew what she was capable of? It was a lead, and as much as she hated it, she’d have to follow it.

  “If she isn’t involved, she’ll be truthful. If she is, she won’t. That would be my guess,” Quinn said.

  “Set up a meet with her for me.” Leah wanted to see for herself what Grandini’s reaction to her questions would be. And she wanted to meet the woman Quinn had betrayed her with. Leah had run out of options and was tired of hiding in the condo.

  “Do you think that’s wise, Boss?” Peony asked.

  “No. But we’ve got to get this case closed sooner rather than later. Someone wants us to think Grandini is a suspect in the murders. I can hardly send around uniforms to pick her up, can I? So if I want to ask her questions about her possible involvement, I need to meet with her. I need to look her in the eye, not talk to her on the phone.”

  “We don’t have time to secure somewhere. Nor do we have the people to keep you safe.” Peony looked frantic.

  “Peony, do you really think Grandini would kill me during a meet?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Nevertheless, we’re going to do this. Quinn, can you and Cots make this happen?” Quinn had admitted to knowing Grandini, but nothing more. But she hadn’t balked at setting up the meeting, either. Is she willing to put me in harm’s way? Or does she think Grandini is innocent, too? Or is she trying to prove she’s the innocent one by showing me she has nothing to hide about Grandini by putting her wife and her lover in the same room and hoping they don’t kill one another?

  “Yes. Give us an hour.”

  “Good. In the meantime, I want some quiet time to review the files Cots has compiled on the bishop. I want to see if there’s anything we may have missed on our first look at him.”

  Leah took a seat in front of the murder board and brought up the files on the bishop. Peony sat in the chair next to Leah as if the two of them had been working together for years instead of days. Leah tried to focus on the information she was reading, but her mind kept wandering. Am I pursuing Grandini because of her relationship with Quinn? I hope not. I’m a better cop than that and know not to let personal feelings guide my investigation. She needed to move this case forward, if only an inch. The only way to do that was to begin eliminating the chaff from the wheat.

  Chapter Ten

  An hour and a half later, Leah felt she knew the bishop well. If he was less than honest, Cots’s research hadn’t found it. Why then was he killed? According to Cots, he was so clean he squeaked.

  But who else was in that field with him? Before Leah could begin forming answers to the two key questions to this investigation, Cots and Quinn returned to the living room.

  “We’ve got your meeting with Grandini set. There are conditions, of course,” Quinn said.

  “Of course. What are they?” Leah leaned back in her chair and looked at Quinn, and felt a tidal wave of sadness sweep over her.

  “You both will be accompanied by only one person. If she sees anyone who looks like a cop, she’s leaving. And if we see anyone whose looks sets you off or there’s more than one mobster lurking about, we’ll leave.”

  Leah laughed. “These days, everyone I meet looks like a criminal. We might be in trouble. Where is the meet taking place?”

  “She suggested out of doors in an hour.” Quinn sat down beside her.

  “What? It’s got to be thirty degrees below zero. We’ll both have frostbite before we say more than three words to one another,” Leah said.

  “That’s essentially what I told her. I told her you were not going to expose yourself to the weather. The meet had to take place inside. So she suggested the Rigatoni Restaurante on Seventy-fifth.”

  “Don’t the Grandinis own the place?” Cots asked.

  “Yes. So I rejected it. I suggested Mama’s Mexican. But she knew I owned it and rejected it.”

  “Where did we end up?” Leah didn’t care where they weren’t meeting. She wanted to get this over with.

  “The Museum of Natural History. It’s public and, in this cold, tourists will be scarce. Even the hardiest tourists won’t venture out in this weather to go to a museum. At least, that’s our thinking. It will be warm, and there are places where the two of you can talk in private.”

  “I hope you two know it’s possible that her phones are tapped by the Feds. We need to change the location at the last possible moment,” Peony said.

  “She does know her phones are tapped. But she uses the same technology as Cots does to secure her personal phone,” Quinn said.

  “How much time do I have?” Cots asked.

  “We need to leave in twenty minutes,” Quinn said, glancing at the clock on the murder wall.

  “Wait,” Cots said. “Why are you going in with Leah? I should be going with her.”

  “Or me,” Peony said. “After all, I am a cop.”

  “I’m going because I know Stephanie better than either of you. I know her body language, and I’ll know if Leah’s in danger. Also, I’ll know when she’s lying. And Stephanie said Leah’s second person had to be me or there’d be no meet,” Quinn said.

  “Come with me, Leah,” Cots said, sounding resigned and giving up the fight.

  Leah and Cots went into the secure room where Cots put a tiny listening device on the back of the black turtleneck sweater she was wearing. He put it beneath the fold in the sweater at the neck, a place few people would think to look. He attached a second device to her scalp, behind her right ear. She noticed that he kept looking over her shoulder at the door, and his jaw was clenching constantly. He was far more nervous than he should be, and that made her really nervous.

  Finally, Cots said in a voice so low that Leah had to strain to hear him, “Be careful, Leah. Stephanie hates you. She believes you took Quinn away from her. Quinn gave her my phone technology, so she’ll know what to look for. Watch your back.”

  Baffled, Leah was about to ask for details but decided to take the warning at face value.

  “Peony and I will be in the van outside the museum,” Cots said. “We’ll hea
r everything you say. If you feel you’re in danger, I want you to work the word ‘triangle’ into your conversation. That will tell us to come get you.”

  Actually, she thought it was sweet, and stupid, for Cots and Peony to come rushing to her rescue. Grandini probably had an army stashed in and around the museum while Leah’s army consisted of herself and three others, two of them civilians. I’d say the odds are in Grandini’s favor on this one.

  “We’ve got to go, Leah,” Quinn said, stepping into the room.

  “We’re done here,” Cots said, looking for all the world as though he hadn’t just given her a serious warning.

  Leah went into the foyer at the front door and opened a safe embedded into the wall. She took out her holster and put it on over her sweater. She took her primary weapon, ensured that it was loaded, and slipped it into the holster.

  “Where’s Peony?” Leah asked.

  “I just sent her to start warming up the van,” Cots said.

  “You can’t go in armed,” Quinn said. “She’ll expect that.”

  “I’m sure as hell not going in without a weapon. You can bet she’ll be armed.”

  “If she knows you’re armed, she may walk away,” Quinn said.

  “Then she walks. I’m not going into this situation unarmed,” Leah repeated.

  “At least carry this as a backup, then,” Quinn said, taking something from Cots that reminded Leah of a lemon reamer.

  “What the hell is this?” Leah asked.

  “It’s a weapon. Take it.” Quinn held it out for her to take.

  Leah took the device from her and immediately felt ridiculous. It was only five inches long. She wondered if one of Grandini’s goons drew a gun on her if she would be expected to poke him with it.

  “This is a laser gun. Powerful and dangerous. It was developed on Devaria,” Quinn said.

  “It’s also illegal here.” Leah wasn’t sure where the hell to carry the kind of weapon Quinn had just told her it was.

  All weapons except those issued to and carried by domestic police officers had been banned seven years earlier after centuries of efforts to do it. Of course criminals had refused to give up their weapons, but there were far fewer killings with guns by civilians since the law-abiding citizens had turned in their weapons. Luckily for all concerned, the common criminals had no way to replace their weapons and were more interested in killing each other than civilians. Usually, if a civilian was killed by a gun, it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The weapon Quinn was giving her wasn’t issued by the police department and was, therefore, illegal. She could be arrested for carrying it. Who knew what would happen if she actually had to fire the thing.