She had to make a new plan. She pulled the tape off of her mouth as he was standing up, and started screaming as loud as she could, hoping to get the attention of the patrolman outside. Then she ran toward the kitchen, thinking she could either escape out of the back door and run to the patrol unit, or she could pick up a knife and stab the attacker.
Ryan felt like she was in a horror movie as the man in the mask chased after her. She couldn’t escape through the kitchen door because the key was lost. She thought she had been so clever keeping that information from her father, and now realized how stupid she had been.
She grabbed the kitchen phone and hit 911 just as the intruder snatched it from her hands.
Trying to hang up the phone before the call went through occupied him for a moment. Ryan wrapped a dishrag around her hand and punched out the window, screaming as loud as she could. Hopefully, the patrolman outside heard.
The attacker grew angrier. He threw the phone across the room and then lunged for her. Ryan leapt across the floor and grabbed a knife from the butcher block. Her father’s words echoed in her mind. A woman should never attempt to use a knife against a man. A man was stronger, and would take the knife away. Unfortunately, she had no other reasonable alternative at the moment. She could pick up the knife, or she could let him rape and kill her.
The man came at her again, and she slashed with the knife, cutting his forearm. It wasn’t a serious cut. He grabbed her wrist with one hand and punched her in the face with his other. Blood poured from her mouth. She gasped as he twisted her hand, the tendons in her wrist stretching like rubber bands about to pop. The pain was too much, and the knife thudded as it landed on the linoleum floor. He bent down and reached for the knife. Ryan jerked her foot up, making contact with his chin, and bolted to the bedroom.
He chased after her and tackled her before she made it to the nightstand. Ryan crossed her arms in front of her face and chest, and tucked her head down. The knife sliced the flesh on her forearms, and a searing pain flashed in her forehead.
A noise from the front of the house made them both freeze. The man slashed at her one last time before jumping up and running back toward the kitchen, bringing the knife with him.
Ryan jumped up, ignoring the burning sensation in her chest, and finally reached the gun inside the nightstand. She ran into the kitchen. The man was unlocking the double bolt on the kitchen door with the key when Ryan started shooting. She hit him once in the back, near his shoulder, before he ran out the door. She fired the remaining rounds at him, watching as he fled from the back porch and into the backyard.
The gunshots were so loud she hadn’t heard the front door being kicked in. Dubuc let out a string of curse words and called for EMS on his handheld radio. Ryan sank to her knees, feeling like she was about to pass out, wondering if she was hurt badly enough to die.
3:30 A.M.
When Shep reached the hospital, the Murphy family was waiting anxiously for news on Ryan.
“Where the hell were you?” the captain asked the second Shep walked in.
“Homicide call on Claiborne,” Shep answered curtly.
The captain turned his attention to Dubuc. “How did he get in the house?”
“Ryan said he had the key to her kitchen door,” Dubuc answered, a note of defensiveness in his voice. “She didn’t know how he got it, but she said it’s been missing for a while.”
“Did she say who did this to her?” The captain’s face was stark white.
The doctor came out at that moment.
“Captain Murphy.” The doctor shook his hand. He was a younger ER doctor, well-known by many of the police officers.
“Doctor Mann, is my baby okay?”
The doctor nodded quickly. “She wasn’t sexually assaulted, and she’s very lucky her injuries are not serious.”
The captain closed his eyes. “Thank you, God.”
Dr. Mann continued. “She has a few superficial cuts on her arms, and a stab wound to the chest, but fortunately the knife just penetrated the breast tissue. She also some small facial lacerations that required a couple of stitches to her lip and forehead. We gave her a tetanus shot, and I’m getting X-rays to rule out any broken bones. I’d like to keep her overnight, though, just to be on the safe side.”
“When can I see her?” the captain asked, his eyes filling with tears.
“As soon as she’s back from X-ray.”
An hour later, Sergeant Mitchell was the first one to see Ryan. He relayed the information she gave him to the captain. The attacker wore a mask and tried to disguise his voice, but Ryan was certain he was Henry Cooper.
A car had already been sitting on Cooper’s apartment all night, but Shep had an idea that Monte would have better information about where to look for Cooper. He called Monte on his radio as he headed out the door.
6:30 A.M.
Ryan sat up in the bed of the hospital room and looked at herself in the handheld mirror the plastic surgeon had left in the room. One eye was swollen shut. The other had a small cut above it. Her lip and forehead were stitched, giving her the look of Frankenstein’s monster. Not to mention the stitches in her left breast. She threw the mirror across the room just as the door opened. The mirror hit the wall and shattered, barely missing Shep as he ducked through the doorway.
“Can I come in?” He held his hands up, remaining by the door.
She nodded, and turned her head so he wouldn’t see the tears starting to form. A nurse walked in.
“Everything okay in here?” The nurse smiled too cheerfully.
Ryan pointed to the pieces of mirror on the floor. The nurse’s smile disappeared and she gave Ryan a look, but only called down the hall for maintenance to clean the mess.
Shep walked over and put a paper bag down on her tray. “I brought you the gun you asked for. Thirty-eight revolver, just like yours.”
She nodded. “Can you put it in my purse in the bathroom? Mama thought I was crazy wanting my purse, but I don’t want to be stuck here without protection.”
Shep went into the bathroom. A second later he came out and sat in the chair next to her bed. “Well, this should make you feel better — Cooper’s dead.”
Ryan adjusted the bed to sit up straight. “Did you kill him?”
Shep shook his head. “No. I did find him, though.”
“Right. But you didn’t kill him.”
“I swear. Ask Sean and Monte. They were with me when I found him.”
“Oh.” For once, Ryan didn’t have an answer. She would have believed any one of the men might have taken out Cooper alone, but she knew without a doubt they would never have killed him together. Not that it would have bothered her if they had. She just hoped however Cooper had died, it had been painful.
Shep continued. “Monte had information on Cooper’s girlfriend, one of Big Who’s girls. We watched her house for an hour before she showed up. She hadn’t seen Cooper since that morning, when he took her car. Then she saw the car parked down the street and pointed it out to us. Cooper was dead in her black Taurus the whole time we were out there waiting for her. Everyone at the station is getting a big kick out of our detective skills.”
“Did my bullet kill him?” she asked hopefully.
“Nah, I’m guessing the gunshot to his head did the trick. But then maybe the shot to the dick killed him. My hope is that the dick shot was first, and after he suffered immense pain for a really long period of time, he was shot in the head.” He frowned. “I just can’t believe I was wrong, and that Cooper was behind it all.”
“So who do you think killed Cooper, then?” Ryan asked, knowing what Shep was thinking already. “If he was the one after me, why is he dead?”
“I think you just answered your own question. How about your dad? Or one of your brothers?”
She shook her head and said softly, “Cooper said somebody paid him to attack me. I think whoever Jacob is, he paid Cooper to come after me so he could set Cooper up to make it look like he was behind th
e whole thing. You’re the only one I’ve told.”
Shep’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “Why?”
“Everyone else still thinks Cooper was the one after me the whole time. Everyone except for the real killer. And he won’t know that Cooper told me otherwise. He’ll assume that I think it’s over, and that I won’t be ready for him. Shouldn’t that give us an advantage?”
They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
Daubert stuck his head in. “Ryan, I told him to go away, but he said he wouldn’t until he talked to you.”
Battaglia pushed Daubert out of the way and entered the room. Battaglia nodded at Shep. “Detective Chapetti, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to speak to Ms. Murphy in private, if possible.”
Shep started to protest but Ryan grabbed his arm again. “It’s cool.”
Shep looked as if he wasn’t going to leave, but finally stepped into the hall.
“I just wanted to return this.” Battaglia handed her a plain brown envelope. Ryan knew without looking that the videotape was inside. “Everything you said checked out. And Mr. Lejeune still refuses to name his attacker, so I guess there’s nothing I can do in any event.”
“I told you so.”
“Ryan, I don’t approve of your tactics. And I sure as hell don’t understand why you didn’t have Lejeune prosecuted.”
“You wouldn’t. So what are you going to do now? Are you going to go to my boss with this? Or the Bar Association?”
Battaglia shook his head. “As long as you don’t beak the law, what you do is none of my business. So that’s the end. I just can’t see why you didn’t tell somebody —”
“Thanks for giving me the tape back,” she interrupted him. She wasn’t sure he would, and a part of her had hoped he wouldn’t.
“Before I go, I do have a few questions to ask you about the murder of Henry Cooper,” Battaglia said. “I’m sure you heard that he was found shot to death early this morning.”
“Cry me a river on your way out. The cop who tried to rape and kill me was found dead. Why are you here again?”
“You have the best motive for murder.”
“And the best alibi.” She pointed to the room around her. “Battaglia, I can’t change my own tampon, and you think I snuck out of here and shot a man’s penis off?”
Battaglia looked embarrassed now, more likely from her use of the word tampon than from his own stupidity.
“I don’t guess your father or one of your brothers or maybe your boyfriend mentioned anything to you about Henry Cooper?”
Ryan frowned, the wound in her forehead throbbing as it creased. “I don’t recall. I think the trauma of being brutally attacked combined with my standing order for morphine has my memory a tad fuzzy. But, by all means, leave me your card. If I remember anybody confessing, I’ll be sure to call you first thing.”
Battaglia smiled, and said over his shoulder as he walked to the door, “I’m going to find something on your father one day, Ryan. He got lucky this time, but one day I will catch him.”
“I’ll hold my breath.” She watched as Battaglia walked out and Shep walked back in.
“What did that prick want?”
“He wanted me to tell him which one of you confessed to killing Cooper.” She handed the envelope to Shep. “And to return the videotape.”
“Why did Battaglia have this?”
“I gave it to him,” she said, holding her hand up to silence whatever he was going to say next. “It’s a long story.”
“Don’t you think it’s about time you trusted me?”
“Do you remember Cedric King?” She didn’t feel like going into the story here, but at this point she figured Shep had a right to know.
“That home invasion guy?”
She nodded. “He would hit rich people’s houses, beat and rape the women, sometimes the men and the kids. None of his victims could identify him because he covered his face with a stocking. And he always used a condom so there was never any DNA.
“He made a mistake and hit the house of a couple of drug dealers who had a security system with a silent alarm. King spent too much time assaulting them and was caught in the act. But he wasn’t the only one caught. The victims had fifty bricks of coke on the kitchen table.
“I got both cases. I reduced the dealers’ charges to simple possession so they would testify against King. But once they bonded out, I never heard from them again. They’re both still at large.”
Shep’s eyebrows went up. “So King got a sweet deal because the vics took off. Big deal. What does any of this have to do with Chad Lejeune?”
Ryan blew out a breath. “That’s not exactly the end of the story. Without the testimony of the victims, I didn’t have enough to pursue anything. I was going to have to dismiss the charges, and you know how much I hate that. But I had an incentive to offer Cedric King that convinced him to plead to simple burglary with probation, even without any kind of evidence against him.”
Shep waited for her to continue, an impatient look on his face.
She sipped through the straw of the plastic hospital mug, wincing as the cold water hit her split lip. “King was motivated by the challenge of breaking into people’s houses, and getting away with the crimes. He didn’t care about the stuff he was taking or even the pain he inflicted.
“I knew my case was in the toilet, so I asked for a conference with King. Janet was his public defender. She didn’t even stay in the room when I met with him. I told him I would probably be dismissing his charges, but that it wouldn’t matter, because he was bound to get caught again. Everybody knew who he was and how he operated now, and he was going to have trouble finding unsuspecting victims.
“I told him how I even heard an attorney say he wished King would show up at his house, so he could shove a broomstick up King’s ass. King was intrigued, and asked what I was offering. I told him simple burglary with one year probation. Right before he signed on the dotted line he asked me if I knew the name of the attorney who was waiting for him with the broomstick. I gave him Chad’s name. That was it. I guess King found out where Chad lived, because Chad was attacked in his apartment the night King was released, exactly one week after he took that video of me.”
Shep rubbed his chin. “So you did this because of what’s on that videotape?”
She nodded. “Killed two birds with one felon, in my view. I got my conviction, and I got back at Chad. Win-win situation for all involved.” She paused. “Except for Chad, of course. But then, he probably enjoyed what King did to him.”
“You told all this to Battaglia?”
“Every word. I wanted him to know why I gave Chad’s name to King. And I didn’t break the law. I didn’t conspire with Cedric King to hurt Chad. I guess King might possibly have thought I would only give him Chad’s name if he took the deal, but I never told him that — as a matter of fact, I would have given him Chad’s name regardless. Getting King to plead to the deal was just gravy.
“And I didn’t know for sure King was going to do anything. I hoped he would, but wishing for something and conspiring to make it happen are two different things. I mean, they might have found something to charge me with on Law and Order, but in Louisiana there’s no statute against wishing somebody would get the crap beat out of them. Not yet, anyway.”
Shep was silent for several seconds, a frown on his face.
“What?” Ryan finally asked.
“Isn’t that still an ethical violation?”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Are you going to report me?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. But Battaglia could.”
“If I get spanked by the Bar Association then I’ll deal with it,” she answered. “I had to clear daddy.”
“So does this mean you’re going to finally let me watch the tape?” he asked.
She nodded again. “I still don’t think Chad is some kind of mastermind. But maybe my judgment’s cloudy. Maybe he is really Jacob. Or maybe he found out ab
out Patti kidnapping me and used the information to set up Cooper. I just don’t know any more.” She tapped the envelope in Shep’s hand. “You watch the tape. If you think Chad’s responsible, you do what you want.”
JACOB
Jacob went to his father’s house. The man was still home, waiting for his dope.
His father didn’t bother to take his eyes off of CNN. “About time. I’ve been waiting for you since last night.” His tone had an edge.
Well, wasn’t that nice. Here he was, thirty-two years old and still his father’s errand boy. Enjoy your heroin, daddy. Jacob handed the vial to the man.
His father picked up a rubber tube from the coffee table. Without a word, he tied the tube around his arm, filled a needle with the brown liquid from the vial and injected it into a vein. A second later, the man fell to the ground in spasms.
Jacob walked into the study and grabbed a key from inside his father’s desk. He used the key to open the safe inside the closet in the bedroom. The safe contained cash, which Jacob took, but the brass ring was a book that contained a series of numbers for bank accounts, complete with passwords and access codes. Jacob would be able to transfer the money from his father’s accounts online. He took the book and the money and stepped over his father’s body on the way out, turning to him one last time.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. That’s not the regular heroin I’ve been getting. It’s ninety-eight percent pure. Hope it wasn’t too strong for you, dad. You fucking junkie asshole.” He knew the man was likely already dead, but he wanted to tell him anyway. His only regret was that his father didn’t know in advance Jacob was going to kill him.
Jacob rushed back to his own house and logged on to his father’s accounts. He emptied most of the money from his father’s bank accounts into a joint account he had opened without his father’s knowledge. By the time the police found his father’s body, Jacob would have transferred the money several more times, and then withdrawn it, in cash. It was a total of eight million dollars — eight million dollars nobody knew about. His father hadn’t gotten as far as he had by being stupid.
Gumbo Justice Page 23
