Twilight Whispers

by Barbara Delinsky

  “Pure coincidence.”

  “Not necessarily. John Ryan must have been a powerful force in her life. When she moved to California—why did she move to California?”

  The darkness couldn’t hide Cavanaugh’s why-else look. “To be an actress.”

  “Wonder what Ryan thought of that,” she mused, then went on. “When she moved there, she may well have felt the loss of a stabilizing force. It’s possible she married John Duncan to counter that loss. Handicapped or not, you said that he was pretty down to earth.”

  “I did. I don’t know—maybe you have a point. It seems she was hung up enough on religion. She could have been hung up on her father. In the months before her death he made quite a few trips out there—quick weekend trips so no one here knew.”

  “How did you?”

  “Clever sleuthing this morning,” he told her, but the wry twist to his lips quickly straightened. “If, around the time of the abortion, Julie was disturbed enough to have broken down and confessed her sins to her father, she could well have told him about Mark and the coke and the parties and the tapes. It’s easy enough to envision a discussion between father and daughter about the evil Whyte family. Julie may have mentioned the argument between Mark and Jordan in passing, even in defense of the family. Whether or not she saw the actual tape, if she knew of Mark’s fetish, she may have just assumed that the argument was there.”

  “Or Ryan assumed it.”

  He sighed. “Whoever planned the murders certainly knew something. If I could only close in on the scene of the crime. I’ll have to do that if I’m ever going to nail Ryan. Without some kind of evidence regarding the actual murders I’ve got nothing.”

  “You don’t have evidence like that on Jordan.”

  “And he’ll probably be aquitted because of it. I told Ryan that, but he insisted on making the arrest. At the time I was tempted to make a stink, but he’d only have assigned someone else to the case, and I didn’t want that.”

  “A grand jury returned the indictments.”

  “Yeah, but grand juries aren’t immune to rhetoric, particularly when they only hear one side of the story. The prosecutor made an emotional case, and the kinds of people listening weren’t exactly the kind who’d identify with a Whyte or a Warren.” He stared off toward the darkness of the harbor. “I need something. It has to be here. Someone has to have seen something that night.”

  Jodi looked around. “I don’t know, Bob. It’s pretty deserted right about now. I don’t see a soul.”

  “Maybe one,” Cavanaugh murmured. His eyes were suddenly focused on the far end of the pier. It took Jodi a minute to see the lone figure who stood like a dark shadow against a post.

  “Fellow looks lonesome,” she mused. “I wonder what he’s doing out there all by himself at this time of night.”

  Cavanaugh drew her up beside him. “Might be worth a stroll to find out.”

  “We can’t do that, Bob,” she scolded in a stage whisper, but, not about to be left behind, she was pacing herself to his leisurely strides. “We’ll be intruding on his privacy.”

  “Nah. Residents of the waterfront are pretty proud of their turf. If we tell him we’re thinking of moving here he won’t turn us away. We’re a pretty respectable looking couple, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, sure. Looking over real estate at one in the morning. Not to mention the fact that the day we can afford one of these will be the day we win the lottery.”

  “He doesn’t have to know we haven’t already won.” They had turned onto the pier and were moving slowly toward the figure.

  “How do you know he’s a resident?” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

  Cavanaugh answered in the same fashion. “If he isn’t, I’ll be justified in investigating.”

  “It’s a free country. Anyone can walk here.”

  “Right, which is why we are. Just keep cool. Smile. Act like you belong.”

  “This is insane, Bob. He could be a criminal. He could have a knife or a gun, and we have nothing.” For once, she actually wished he had worn his shoulder holster. But under the circumstances of their leaving the apartment, that would have been absurd.

  “Then look at it this way,” Cavanaugh said even more softly, because they were nearing the man. “If he mugs us he won’t get much cash.”

  “Some solace—hey, he’s leaving.”

  “Yeah. Running.” Even before the words had left his mouth Cavanaugh dropped Jodi’s arm and broke into a run himself. As far as he was concerned, when a man took off like that he was worth chasing.

  Cavanaugh might have been off-duty and unarmed, but neither of those facts blunted the speed with which he followed, then reached the man, who was trying to scramble up a series of pilings in hope of escape. Cavanaugh clamped a hand on the collar of his heavy denim jacket and hauled him back down.

  “In some rush, aren’t you, buddie?” he growled. A panting Jodi arrived just as he turned the man around, at which point they both discovered that they were dealing with a boy of no more than fifteen. Though he nearly matched Cavanaugh in height, he was spindly.

  The boy held up both hands. “Hey man. What’s the problem?”

  His voice was at the changing stage, not high, not low, but in the netherland between. Jodi wasn’t sure how much of the warble had to do with fear, which was clearly written in the boy’s eyes.

  “Why did you run?” Cavanaugh asked more quietly.

  “I wanted the exercise.”

  “All of a sudden?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you live here?” Jodi asked. She had already taken in the boy’s hair, spiked on top, falling to his collar in back, and the gold stud in his left ear. He wasn’t exactly the type of kid she would expect to find living in an expensive condominium on the waterfront.

  The boy looked wide-eyed from Cavanaugh to her and back, then tried to shrug off the hand at his shoulder. The detective simply grasped more of the denim.

  “Where do you live?” he demanded.

  The boy tossed his head toward the townhouses behind him.

  “With your family?”

  He nodded.

  “Do they know you’re out here at this hour?”

  “No, man! Why do you think I ran? If they find out they’ll kill me!”

  “What were you doing here?”

  “Gettin’ air.”

  “Do you do it a lot?”

  “Hell, man, I don’t know.”

  “Look, I asked you a simple question—”

  Jodi’s hand on his arm stopped him. “What’s your name?” she asked gently.

  The boy gave the same one-shouldered shrug he had given moments before.

  “The lady asked you a question,” Cavanaugh prompted, keeping his tone calm for Jodi’s sake alone. “What’s your name?”

  After a minute the kid answered grudgingly. “Alex.”

  “Alex what?”

  After another little while there was an even more reluctant, “Petri. Look, I live here, okay? I was gettin’ some air. But I wasn’t doing anything illegal, so you got no right to stop me.”

  “Who said anything about illegal?” Cavanaugh returned with a more natural calm this time. And a creeping suspicion. “Do you know me?”

  “No,” Alex said quickly. Too quickly.

  Cavanaugh’s fist tightened around the boy’s jacket. “That’s good,” he said smoothly. “Then you won’t be able to identify me after I beat you to a pulp for being a punk kid. I don’t like punk kids. I don’t like kids period.”

  “You wouldn’t beat me,” Alex gloated. “Not with your lady standing here watching.”

  Jodi was almost enjoying herself. She had never seen her man in action, and knowing that he would never harm the boy, she was curious as to what he would do next. She had the same suspicion Cavanaugh did. Alex Petri recognized him.

  “But she’s part of the scam,” Cavanaugh went on. “She’s trained in the martial arts, knows just where to kick so it hur
ts.”

  “Come off it, man. She won’t touch me.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause that would be assault. She’s not the type.”

  “But I am?”

  “You’re a friggin’ cop—”

  Cavanaugh smiled. And Alex realized what he’d said.

  “Okay,” he grumbled. “So I know. It’s easy enough to spot a cop.”

  “I’m not in uniform.”

  Alex aimed a disdainful glance at Cavanaugh’s conservative slacks, sweater and topcoat. He might have said, Oh, no? Instead he said, “You smell like a cop.”

  Cavanaugh looked at Jodi. “Do I smell like a cop?”

  Innocently, she shook her head, at which point Cavanaugh returned his gaze to Alex, who shifted from one black booted foot to the other. “All I smell,” Cavanaugh said slowly, “is a rat, and I know it’s not me, and I know it’s not her, so it must be you. Why were you running?”

  “I told you. If my parents find out I’m out here—”

  Cavanaugh’s fist tightened, bringing Alex up higher. “You said you weren’t doing anything illegal. If you’d just stayed where you were we wouldn’t have noticed you.”

  “You were heading straight for me.”

  “We were walking.”

  “Right at me.”

  “So speaks the voice of guilt. And you ran. Why did you run? Were you smoking something?”

  “Did you see me smoking something?” he asked nervously.

  Cavanaugh honestly hadn’t, but he was certain from the way he was acting that the kid had come out to smoke a joint. That would explain his panicky fear of his parents. Cavanaugh was also certain the kid had dumped anything illegal he had with him in the harbor before he ran. But that didn’t stop the detective from realizing he had the leverage he needed to get the kid to talk.

  “It’s dark,” Cavanaugh said brusquely. “I can’t see everything. Maybe I should search you. Carrying a stash?”

  “No. I got nothing. I wasn’t smoking.”

  “Then why did you run when you saw a cop? What are you hiding, Alex?”

  “Nothing. So help me God, nothing.” But the high pitch of his voice said the opposite.

  “Maybe I should bring you to the station and question you there. What’s a few hours more or less? Your parents can pick you up in the morning.”

  “Hey man, don’t do that. I’m not hiding a thing. I got nothing to tell you. I didn’t see nothing that night. I swear it. Nothing.”

  Cavanaugh relaxed his hold on the boy’s coat. “Now we’re getting somewhere. You recognized me from the time I was here questioning people.” Alex’s silence was ample confirmation. “Were you here on the pier that night?”

  “How the hell should I know? I come out lots of nights.”

  “Your parents would love to hear that.”

  “Well, you’re probably gonna tell them anyway. I’ll just deny it.”

  “Tough guy, aren’t you? How would you like to be subpoenaed? What would your parents think about that?”

  “They’ll think you’re nuts.”

  “Not if I tell them that their son may have been the only witness to a double murder.”

  “You already got the guy who did it. What do you need me for?”

  “Evidence, Alex. The way it stands, the guy we’ve arrested may get off, and if that happens he may come after you to make sure you don’t talk later.”

  “I’m not as dumb as you think,” Alex fumed. “There’s something called double jeopardy. If the guy gets off he can’t be tried again.”

  “But if there’s new evidence he can be tried for perjury. He’ll do anything it takes to keep that evidence from coming out. The guy’s already committed murder. Twice. Are you willing to spend the next few years of your life looking over your shoulder?”

  Alex’s jaw was set. “I got nothing to say.”

  Jodi, who had been watching the exchange quietly, felt it was time to step in. “You know, Alex, that will only buy you a little time. The detective here is determined to find a witness to those murders, and he will subpoena you if he has to. It would be much easier if you’d be straight with us. Your parents might not want you out here late at night and you might not want to tell them why you came out here, but if you come forward and give evidence that can lead to justice, I’d daresay they’d be proud of you.”

  “You don’t know my parents.”

  “You’re right. But I know lots of others, and I know that parents can sometimes surprise their kids. But forget your parents for a minute. Think about yourself. If you were out here that night, and if you did see something, wouldn’t you like to feel that you were the one to step forward?”

  “I don’t want to be a hero. If I say something I’ll have double trouble. Not only will my parents be on my back, but the guy who did the murders will be after me.” He tossed an accusatory glance at Cavanaugh. “Just like he said.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” Cavanaugh suggested. “If you tell us what you know we can protect you. If what you know leads to the evidence I need, the guy will be put away for a good long time. There might never even be a trial. If he knows we have an airtight case against him he might plead guilty, and no one but the three of us would be any the wiser to your involvement. Think of yourself as a high-class informant. I’d be willing to promise not to reveal your identity.” Cavanaugh knew that last offer would clinch it.

  “You wouldn’t tell my parents you saw me out here?”

  The detective shook his head.

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You seem like a smart kid. What’s the alternative? I’m granting you immunity in exchange for information. If you don’t talk to me now I’ll just have to take you in.”

  Alex held up an awkward hand. It occurred to Jodi that he hadn’t yet grown into his body. “Look man,” he rushed out, “I don’t know if I have the information you want. I was just standin’ out here—”

  “On the night of the murders?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you see?”

  “A figure. All in black. That’s it.”

  “Black suit?”

  “Wet suit. With scuba gear.”

  “What did he look like? Size? Build?”

  “It was dark. He was dark.”

  “Alex…”

  “Okay, okay. He looked hunchback. Tall and thin with that stuff on his back.”

  “Where was he?”

  “On the boat.”

  “Standing? Walking?”

  “Climbing up the side of the boat. Going inside. I didn’t think nothin’ of it. I thought he belonged there.”

  “But you changed your mind at some point?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you telling me this?”

  “’Cause you asked what I saw that night.” He screwed up his face, then gave a single rough headshake. “Ah, shit, two bodies turned up on the boat.”

  “What time was it when you saw the guy?”

  “Twelve-thirty. Maybe one.”

  “Did you hear anything?”

  “Like gunshots? No.”

  That was okay. The killer used a silencer. “Then what?”

  “Then he went back in the water. I thought he’d gone into the boat to get something—a piece of diving equipment or something he’d forgotten.”

  Cavanaugh wasn’t ready to be optimistic just yet. Alex had only confirmed what he had suspected all along. If there was going to be a break in the case he would need more. “Did you watch him after he got back in the water?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to know what he was doing.”

  “What was he doing?”

  “Swimming.”

  “Underwater?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It was dark. Cloudy. There wasn’t any moon that night. How could you see?”

  “The waterfront lights. They reflect off the clouds. And the air bubbles.”

  “How far did you follow the bubbl
es?”

  “Till the guy got out of the water.”

  “Where? Where did he get out?” The questions were coming with increasing speed.

  Alex peered off toward the harbor, then pointed. “There. That dock way over there. He climbed out, then fuckin’ disappeared behind the building.”

  Cavanaugh followed the pointing finger, which took his gaze diagonally across the harbor to a building not far from the USS Constitution. “That one with the neon strip?”

  “Yeah.”

  He let out a breath but kept his jubilation tightly in check. “What did you see then?” he asked calmly.

  “Nothing. I stayed for a few more minutes, then left.”

  “You went back inside?”

  “Yeah. Hey, it’s not like I’m out here long. I just need to get air sometimes. I feel so damned cooped up in there—”

  “You know, Alex,” Cavanaugh said, this time giving the boy’s shoulder a kind squeeze, “you’re not bad for a kid. But let me give you a tip.” This he said softly, conspiratorially, moving closer to Alex as he shot a glance at Jodi. “Your mouth is a little foul. If you want to attract women, real women, you’ll have to ease up on the swearing.” He drew his head back and peered at the boy. “You may want to get rid of the earring, too. Wouldn’t want someone to mug you for it.”

  “Shit, it’s not worth much,” Alex said, then had the good grace to shoot Jodi an apologetic glance before looking back at Cavanaugh. “Are we done?”

  Cavanaugh dropped his hand and stepped back. “We’re done.”

  “I’m free to go?”

  “Depends where you’re going.”

  “Up there,” Alex said, indicating the townhouse. “My tape’s just about run through. If I’m not there to turn it off my parents are gonna hear the same conversation twice.”

  “Conversation?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned, proud of himself. “If my parents wake up they hear me talking to my girl.”

  Cavanaugh stared at him for a minute, then shook his head. “Okay. Go on.”

  Alex took several steps sideways, as though afraid to turn his back on the cop. “You won’t tell?”

  “I told you I wouldn’t.”

  “Are you gonna be back looking for me?” He kept moving sideways.

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “Did I do any good?”