Done Rubbed Out

by Jeffery Craig

  Mitchell, of course, had listened in to the conversation. “But isn’t the case closed?”

  “It is closed, and Chief Kelly will be after our asses if we start stirring things up again.” Jackson answered, continuing to study his partner. Resigned to the inevitable, he sighed heavily. “I correct my statement, Mitchell. The case was closed. Looks like I’m not going home after the fireworks. Alice may skin my hide.”

  “You don’t have to come with me, Jackson. You can head on home. I’m perfectly able to meet Toby Bailey by myself.” Reightman started to walk toward the nearest bridge.

  “Yes, you are,” Jackson agreed readily. “You’re perfectly able to head off this time of night to meet with Mr. Bailey. You’re perfectly able to review and possibly take into custody any evidence which may open this can of warms again. You are perfectly able to do that, Reightman.” Jackson walked by her side as she placed her foot on the bridge with Mitchell trailing slightly behind. His voice was calm and measured as he continued. “You are also dumb as a bag of rocks if you think I’m going to let you go down there by yourself.” He held up a hand as she started to object. “Now, I have no reason to suspect Toby Bailey himself of anything but a certain level of naiveté, but think about it. This could be a set-up. It’s probably just a wild goose chase, and I almost hope it is. I’m not worried about that. It wouldn’t be the first time we went chasing after something that turned out to be a load of crap. What I am worried about is it could be something worse. You better reconcile yourself to the fact that there’s no chance in hell I’m letting you drive down there by yourself and maybe step right in the middle of a bigger mess than you can handle.”

  “Jackson, I‘ll be fine,” Reightman assured him. “I’m not exactly a helpless damsel in distress.” He didn’t say a word as they continued to walk toward the main exit to the park.

  “I could go,” Mitchell suggested after a minute of uncomfortable silence.

  “No!” Jackson and Reightman both answered.

  “I appreciate the offer,” Reightman added when she saw the disappointment on the young officer’s face. “But you’ve put in a few long, hard, thankless days and what you need is to find yourself a cold beer or two before getting some rest. I’ll be fine.”

  Mitchell gave her a couple of token nods, but Reightman didn’t trust the speculative look on his face. “I mean it, Mitchell. Don’t make me pull rank because I’ll make you cry like a baby.” Her threat elicited a small, grudgingly given grin and, after weighing his expression, Reightman started walking again, confident at least the matter of Mitchell’s participation was settled.

  Once they reached the parking lot, the young man reached out and shook their hands. “Thanks for letting me tag along tonight, Detectives. You old people are alright, no matter what anyone else says.”

  “Old people, my ass!” Jackson growled, but the twinkle in his eyes took away any sting, just as he’d intended. “You better get yourself home and all tucked in, sonny-boy, and don’t forget to brush your teeth!”

  Mitchell grinned and looked down at his feet, thrilled that Jackson was giving him hell. “See ya’ later.” He turned and jogged across the lot to where he was parked.

  “I like him,” Reightman told her partner as she watched Mitchell crossing the lot at a lope. “He reminds me of the stray puppy I conned my parents into letting me keep when I was a kid.”

  “He’s a good kid,” Jackson agreed, making no move toward his own car.

  She tightened her lips and gave him her very best evil eye. When he didn’t react, she forced of exasperated stream of air through her mouth. “I thought I’d park in the lot on the corner across from the spa. It would attract less attention.”

  “Sounds like a good plan, Reightman. Glad to see you’re thinking for a change,” Jackson said with a wise-ass grin. “I’ll meet you there.”

  She rolled her eyes and started to walk away, but was brought up by a guttural roll from the back of his throat. “Yes, I know that I’m supposed to wait for you if I get there first.” She stomped off to her own car. “Men!” she exclaimed in frustration. She could hear Sam’s shout of laughter behind her as she opened her truck and stowed her gun. She could still hear him as she walked around to her door and got in. She took some satisfaction in slamming her door shut and cutting off the obnoxious noise.

  Reightman dialed Toby from the car and he picked up before the first ring had finished sounding in her ear. “Detective Reightman?” he answered. She could hear the relief in his voice.

  “Yes, Toby…er…Mr. Bailey,” she responded. “I’m sorry I took so long to call you back, but I just picked up your messages.’’ She listened to Toby’s reiteration of his message as she backed out of her space, waving gratefully to the driver who had slowed behind her. “Yes, that’s what you said…Yes, Detective Jackson and I are just now leaving the fireworks show at Riverfront Park.” She pulled into the line of traffic waiting to exit the parking area. “I think it’ll probably take us thirty or forty minutes to get down there. Traffic is pretty bad and will probably be backed up all the way downtown.”

  As she inched forward, a thought occurred to her. “Does anyone else know you have those things?...Good. Are you at the spa now...Do you have the door locked...Okay, here’s what I want you to do. Turn off all of the lights except the ones in your office. Stay there and don’t come out until I call you to tell you we’re both out front, okay?” She carefully navigated out on to the small two-lane road that led in and out of the park. “No. I don’t, but it’s better to be cautious…. Alright. We’ll be there soon.” Reightman hung up and tossed her phone on the passenger seat, watching as it slid off and wedged between the seat and the door. She tried to reach for it, but discovered that her arm wasn’t long enough. After another try, she decided to just leave it where it was until she got out of the slow moving mess. She crossed her fingers, hoping that no one else called.

  ♦♦♦

  John Brown slid into the passenger seat of the pickup truck pulled alongside his vehicle. He situated the black bag he carried from his SUV and placed it at his feet. Before he fastened his seat belt he handed an envelope full of cash to the driver. “I guess you know where we’re going?”

  “I sure as hell do,” Helliman said, almost quivering with excitement. “I had some business of my own down at that queer-ass fag place a few nights ago.”

  “Yes, I heard about that,” John Brown responded without much inflection. “You did quite a number on the place, from all reports.”

  “You better believe I did!” Helliman said proudly. “I hate all those queers! It would serve ‘em all right if all them businesses just burned right to the ground. That prissy ass faggot’s just lucky I didn’t torch his place!”

  John Brown didn’t respond to Helliman’s hate-filled rant. He sat completely still in his leather bucket seat until they turned on Capital Street. “Park across the street in one of the parallel parking spots near the end of the block,” he instructed.

  “What now?” Helliman asked as he parked the car and turned off the engine.

  “Now we wait. I already know the target is in the building. I confirmed it about thirty minutes ago. I drove down the street before you picked me up and saw him standing in the lobby talking on his cell phone. He had a satchel strapped to his body which I recognized when I saw him at the diner. I bet the items he found are in there.”

  “Why don’t we just break in and take care of him?”

  John Brown didn’t answer immediately. “We may have to,” he agreed reluctantly, “but I want to avoid that if possible. It would give him warning something was happening and time to call the police. I think it’d be better if we wait here a while and catch him when he exits the building and starts to walk across the street to his apartment.”

  “What if that bitch, Reightman, shows up before we do it?”

  “Then we will have to adjust the plan accordingly. Regardless of who shows up and how long it takes for him to leave,
we have to do this tonight. My instructions are very clear.”

  “But if he hands the stuff over to that goddamn bitch before we hit him, won’t there still be a world of trouble? She can make life hell. I’ve watched her do it.”

  Helliman’s question made John Brown uncomfortable. “With the kid dead, it should be easy enough to discredit her,” he eventually answered. “After all, the case is closed and she’d have to explain how she just happened upon new evidence. It could be made to appear a little too convenient and maybe even staged. That would throw some doubt on her credibility. Without Bailey’s testimony it would be messy, but not insurmountable for the boss. Evidence has been known to disappear before and all it takes is the right incentive.” John Brown glanced at his driver. “You should know – you’ve helped with a few such instances yourself.”

  “Money talks and shit walks,” Helliman agreed.

  The two men settled back in the dark interior and watched the front of the store. About ten minutes later John Brown set up straighter in his seat to watch a car pull into the small lot on the corner. Another car pulled shortly after. From his current position he couldn’t see who got out of either car.

  “You think something’s up?’ Helliman asked nervously.

  “I don’t know yet. It may be nothing other than someone coming home from dinner or from the show down at the park.”

  Barely a minute later Helliman whistled softly through his teeth. “It’s Reightman and Jackson,” he said. “What now?”

  “I don’t know,” John Brown conceded, as he watched the two detectives cross the street and walk to the door of the spa. He observed the woman make a call on her phone and then wait with her partner until the door was opened and they were ushered into the building. “I’d better double-check our instructions,” he said, pulling out his phone and typing a few lines. He watched the screen until a text came through. “No change in plans,” he told his companion. “We’re supposed to proceed.”

  “You don’t sound too damn happy about that.”

  “It’s a lot more complicated now,” John Brown said quietly. ‘I don’t like it when things get too complicated.” He typed another line or two into the phone and sent the message. Almost immediately the reply came through. He read the text and then turned off the phone and put it back in his pocket without saying a word.

  Uncomfortable with the man’s silence, Helliman asked “How you liking that there phone?”

  “Other than the scratch on the case, it’s fine,” John Brown replied. “You must’ve made a mint when you so helpfully snagged it that night.”

  “First on the scene skims the cream,” Helliman said smugly. “Thought it might have something good on it, so I swiped it. When it didn’t, I was told to have it wiped and then hand it over to you. It’s kind of ironical and all – given what we’re doing tonight.” Helliman laughed and added, “It serves the fuckin’ queer right for us to be getting the confirmation on his own hit over a phone that used to belong to him.”

  “Yeah…ironical,” John Brown grunted in reply. He settled back into the seat for a moment and thought about the new complications. “Drive around the block and park on the other side near the corner.” Once they were parked in the new position, John Brown reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out a gun and a piece of black fabric.

  “What’s that?” Helliman asked, eyeing the cloth.

  “A mask,” John Brown answered as he unfolded it.

  Helliman thought it over. “Did you bring one for me?” he asked.

  “I just have the one,” John Brown answered, as he settled back into the seat, making himself comfortable for the wait. “Sorry,” he shrugged, not really meaning it.

  Helliman gave the black fabric one more look before he, too, leaned back into the leather bucket seat.

  ♦♦♦

  Reightman and Jackson entered the spa door. “Thanks for coming,” Toby said gratefully as he locked the door again. “I didn’t know if you’d come after the other day, but I didn’t know what else to do or who to call.”

  “That’s alright, son,” Jackson assured him, “If you’ve gotten your hands on what Reightman says you have, then you did the right thing.”

  Reightman stood by the door in silence for a moment looking out into the dark streets before turning to the nervous young man. “Well, Mr. Bailey, we better take a look at what you’ve found.”

  Toby turned and led the two Detectives back to his office. Jackson gently closed the door. “Better safe than sorry,” he commented before he reached out and took a seat. “Let’s see what’s got you two all worked up.”

  Toby handed him the ledger book and the photos. “Geri left these for me at a lockbox down on Justice Street. He gave a letter to Grams –my grandmother,” he explained to Jackson, “and asked her to give it to me if something bad happened. The letter had a key in it and told me where to go to find this stuff.”

  “May I see the letter?” Reightman asked as she watched Jackson open the brown envelope.

  Toby flushed slightly, but handed her the letter. She took the paper from Toby’s hand and unfolded it to read the words that Geri had written.

  “Damn son!” Jackson exclaimed, looking up at Toby in shock. “These photographs could just about set fire to the whole city, even if they aren’t directly tied to your friend’s murder.” Jackson looked through the photographs one more time before handing them to Reightman. “You’d better take a look,” he said. “You’re not going to believe your eyes.”

  Reightman put down the letter and reached for the stack of photos. She flipped through them, noticing that a few were similar to the photographs Tom had recovered from Geri’s phone. There were many more images in this stack, and unlike those images, several of the photos included the clearly visible faces of – as Jackson had indicated – several of the city’s leading citizens, powerbrokers and officials. The subjects completely nude and in some cases were shown engaging in a variety of sexual acts with a well-built man Reightman recognized as Geri Guzman. The one without recognizable features included the tattoo she recalled from the photos retrieved by the crime tech.

  Reightman arranged the photos in groups, shuffling her placement a few times to find any common themes – besides the obvious. She turned to Jackson, who was examining the small ledger. “Find anything in there?”

  “Yes, I did,” he replied thoughtfully. He turned a few more pages, and then looked up. “It appears Guzman was not only providing a varied set of services to the city’s elite, but also managed to get photos of the interactions. From the entries in this ledger, not only was he collecting some pretty hefty fees for service, but also blackmailing them with the photos.” He turned a couple of more pages. “Hand me those photos again. I want to check something.”

  She handed them over and watched as he checked a few and then turned back to the ledgers. “What are you looking for?”

  “Each of the photos has a date and time stamp indicating when they were taken. See here?” Jackson indicated the small print on the photos. “Those little numbers cross reference to the entries in this book.” After checking a few more examples he handed the book and the photos to his partner. “Were you aware of any of this Mr. Bailey?”

  Toby’s pale eyes were steady. “No, not until I saw these.” He sat down in his chair and studied the desk top, moving a pencil and then picking up a paperclip and placing it back down. “Geri had been engaged in providing those kinds of services for a while. I told Detective Reightman about it when she interviewed me on the night of his murder.” He waited until Reightman nodded her confirmation and then continued. “At first I thought he was just doing normal outcalls, and when he finally told me what else he was doing with his clients, I was shocked and hurt and tried to get him to stop. He said he needed the money, and this was the only thing he’d ever been good at doing. He told me it wasn’t so bad, and convinced me to go with him once. I got here, and discovered once things got started I just…couldn’t go
through with it. I got dressed and left. Geri told me he’d find his own way back to our apartment once they’d finished. He laughed and said I shouldn’t wait up.”

  Toby shifted around in his chair and finally stood to lean against the wall with his head hanging down. “You see, this place was just getting started and things were tight financially after all the start-up cost had been paid. I had some money left from mom’s insurance and the sale of her house, but not much, and we needed to be really careful.” Toby let out a breath of air and then looked up at the two Detectives. “I asked him to stop and he asked me how I thought we were going to get this place open without a source of steady cash. When I told him I didn’t know, but we’d find some other way, he said he’d make sure we didn’t have to worry. After arguing about it for several weeks, he told me to just shut up and mind my own business. He said he liked doing it, and didn’t care what I thought anymore.”

  Reightman watched as the young man visibly prepared himself to say what came next. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” he said in a dead, lost voice. “I told him he needed to stop what he was doing or I was going to leave.” He paced a few steps, confined in the small space until he went back to his chair. Once seated, he gave a sad shrug. “He said he’d see me around when he came in to work, and to give him a forwarding address when I had one.” Toby reached across the desk and picked up the letter Geri had written. He looked over the words and let it drift back down to the table. “I had no idea he was taking pictures in order to blackmail these people. I know who some of them are, and I don’t like what they stand for in many cases. But they didn’t deserve to be held hostage for what they were doing in private – no matter what.”

  Reightman handed the folder and the ledger book back to Jackson. He looked through them one more time and then set them on the edge of the desk.