by Don Weston
“Clemons hates Billie,” Dan said. “Her incident with Chris Johnson made him appear foolish. It happened right after he launched his community policing model.”
“Yeah, he took a lot of flak from our rank-and-file about it being a waste of time and too soft on crime,” Dag said. “Billie’s incident made it seem like a rebellion among the ranks.”
“Hey, I was community policing,” I said. “I stuck up for a community tired of purse snatchers, carjackers, and home invaders. What I did falls into the category of a crime deterrent, which is certainly within the community policing model.”
“You really think Clemons would stoop to murder?” Dag said.
“He has a hair-temper,” Dan said. “He doesn’t like to look bad, ever! He threatened to do things worse than firing her to some of his aides. He has the power, the money and the clout to do away with her and maybe even get away with it.”
“It’s hard to imagine the Mayor hiring a slipshod operation like these stooges,” I said. “These guys not only missed me, but killed a cop. Pros they’re not.”
“Well, Clemons is up to something,” Dan said. “Jason, show her what you found.”
Jason dropped a thick manila folder on the table. He opened it and turned several sheets of paper over one by one. Each page had scores of words and lines blotted out by a thick felt pen.
“This was what Samantha turned up for me. The records she had were skimpy, but she knows where the homicide detectives keep their working files and she managed to find a sympathetic investigator who let her copy them for us.”
“This is useless,” I said, turning over page after page. “Names are missing, paragraphs and even whole pages are blacked out. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Samantha’s friend said someone above was censoring the police reports until an arrest is made,” Jason said. “Steve told his investigative team the unmarked report is kept by the Police Chief. The Chief also warned Steve not to talk to anybody about the investigation, especially the Bly’s.
“They’re determined to keep us out of it,” Dan said. “Even with all the blacked-out areas, it’s clear they don’t have a firm suspect. They’re mucking the whole thing up.”
Jason stood up and went to the window to check on our assigned surveillance team sitting in their now dirty sedan across the street and turned back to me.
“Samantha said Steve told his team pretty much the same thing,” he said. “She suggested there was too much interference from above. Steve claims he’s being directed from higher ups as how to handle the investigation. He told Samantha it wasn’t right the way he had to treat the Bly’s. Apparently, it’s not making him popular with his fellow officers.”
“Oh, crap,” I said. “And I thought he was being a jerk.”
“Still, I think we have to add Steve to our list of suspects,” Dan said.
“Why?” Dag asked.
“Did you see him when he left? Steam poured from his ears. If anyone has a strong motive to kill Billie, Steve does.”
For one of the few times in my life, I didn’t have a comeback. I remembered the questions I had about the attempt on my life coming home from making funeral arrangements and how Steve seemed to be more hindrance than help. I had my own suspicions about Lover Boy.
Chapter 13
Coffee Maestro is one of those dingy shops where the hip people hang and the rest of the world avoids. The tables are Goodwill rejects, made of old doors, wooden crates and even a cardboard box. All the wood chairs are splintered or just plain uncomfortable.
The coffee smells good though, the pastries are adequate, and the prices are much lower than the Starbucks up the street. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness upon entering. The walls were adorned with jute objets de’art and the only light in the establishment seemed to be emitted from half a dozen laptops humming on tables with young people hovering over them. The barista called a number and a familiar figure stepped from a dark area near the wall into the window light.
Eileen McIntire was not the same frumpy woman I met at City Hall. Her frizzled hair was straight now and the dishwater gray transformed to sandy blond. She wore a brown pantsuit and a floral wrap around her neck, and her eyes sparkled more than I remembered.
She picked up her coffee, nodded at me to follow her, and we drifted back into the gloom.
“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” she said. “I’m on a tight schedule today.”
“You look nice,” I said, as I sat down.
“I’ve been meaning to get my hair done for months now. I have a date tonight and it’s my first in a couple of years. I needed a makeover.”
“You pulled it off in a big way. Who’s the new boyfriend?”
“Oh, he’s just a customer who comes in on a regular basis. We always chat, and I know he’s single, but he never manages to get beyond the chit-chat.”
“And you like him and wanted him to ask you out?”
She sipped her coffee delicately.
“Well I hoped he might, but he’s very shy. So, I finally asked him.”
“That’s nice. Where are you going?”
“Just to a movie and dinner.” She noticed her hand trembling. “Cripes, between the date and this mess I got myself into with you, I’m a nervous wreck.”
“What mess have I gotten you into?” I asked.
“That’s what I’d like to know.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a DVD disk in a clear plastic case. “This is a compilation of a few of the cameras in the office area between noon and one o’clock on the day you asked about.”
She reached down by her feet and hefted a small laptop from a briefcase stashed under the table. I watched her open it and tap some keys. A minute later she had it humming and slid the DVD into its player slot. I scooted my chair next to hers and watched as she searched through various scenes labeled on the screen.
The first clip was from a camera facing the door entering the reception area where Eileen worked. We watched intently and nothing seemed to happen so after about a minute.
“What are we supposed to be seeing?” I asked.
“Watch it again, carefully,” she said. “I’m going to zoom in on the video.”
The movie went from postcard size to filling the screen. I watched again and saw only a slight movement.
“Oh, the door opened a bit,” I said.
“Yes, and that’s all you’re going to see. Now look at this.”
She opened another file and we watched from a side angle as the door opened and The Jet’s sinister face peered around the door. He scooted across the floor hidden from sight by the counter, still in a crouch, and snaked under the swinging gate. Because the camera pointed toward the Mayor’s office we could see the side door to his office open and a slight flash of The Jet sliding through it.
“Oh my God,” I said. “He went to see Mayor Clemons.”
“We don’t know for sure. There’s no way to tell if the Mayor was in or out. He was checked out that day, but he often comes in unannounced during the lunch hour to get work done. He might have been there or maybe not.”
“Are there any cameras in his office?” My eyes were glued to the video.
“No,” Eileen said.
“Did you catch him leaving?”
“Keep watching. Security sped the time frame up. It’s been five minutes now.”
My jaw dropped as the Mayor’s door cracked open again and he pirouetted around its edge like a ballet dancer. He slunk down below a table and disappeared. Seconds later the camera caught him scooting under the gate. He was out of sight for a while.
“What happened?” I said. “Where did he go? I didn’t see the lobby door open.”
“There’s a gate on each side of the counter. My friend in Security thinks he slid under it and now he’s heading for the auditor’s office.”
“Bob Blaney? Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be,” she said. “Security didn’t have this angle.
He could have gone into Commissioner Tuttle’s office, but he’d have to go right down the aisle past me, and I didn’t even have a clue that slimy little guy was crawling around. Damn, this represents a big breech in our security. The guard who made this video for me is going to have to report it. Then he’s going to have to explain why he viewed the video. He’s going to tell his superiors I felt uneasy, like someone was in the office watching me, even though I never saw anyone. I don’t know if that’s going to hold up, but I’ve got to watch out for myself too.”
“What kind of trouble do you expect?” I asked.
“My friend said the Mayor is really paranoid about this kind of stuff. He told Clemons about it Friday and said the Mayor will probably want to talk to me Monday. Word must have leaked out because late Friday afternoon I felt like my co-workers were avoiding me.”
“I’m sorry if I got you into trouble, Eileen. But this is the guy who tried to kill me twice, and he is probably the person who killed my brother. If it means pissing the Mayor off or one of us risking arrest so be it. I’ll do my best not to incriminate you.”
“I’m not complaining,” she said. “I offered to help you, and I’ve been through more administrations than most of these elected types. I’ve got a good union and a good work record. The thing that creeps me out most is that this guy was skulking around the office, and I was alone.”
“Hey, what ever happened to him? Does he show up again on any of the cameras?”
“No. I think he went into Blaney’s office because Blaney has a second door that opens to a side stairwell. I thought it didn’t work, but maybe someone fixed it or this thief jimmied it or something. He could have slipped out unobserved and walked down the side stairs and no cameras would have caught him.”
“That might explain why Chris and his friend didn’t see him leave when they staked out the reception door,” I said. “Was Blaney in his office?”
“Like I told you before: that was the day when he went into Tuttle’s office and they argued.”
Do you remember the approximate time?”
“It was about twelve-thirty. I remember wondering if I should go to lunch so I wouldn’t have to listen to them scream.”
“Could Blaney have been in his office when The Jet entered?”
“I don’t think so,” Eileen said.
“It would make sense if he was,” I said. “Maybe The Jet tells Blaney something nefarious about Tuttle, and he charges into Tuttle’s office to confront him.”
“I guess it could happen that way,” Eileen said. “It wouldn’t take much to upset him. Bob’s been short with a lot of people lately. He yelled at me the other day because he was out of paper clips.”
“Why do you think he’s so testy?” I said.
“I don’t know if I should say. It couldn’t have anything to do with your brother’s death.”
“Does it have something to do with his wife?”
“How did you know?” Eileen asked.
“I get around. Does he know who she’s fooling around with?”
“No, I don’t think he does.” Eileen glanced at me sideways and a slow grin revealed itself. “I don’t either in case you’re wondering. Maybe he thinks its Tuttle.”
“It’s not,” I said. “There must be something else between Blaney and Tuttle.”
“How do you know? I mean, that it’s not Tuttle. Do you know who she’s seeing?” Eileen’s grin was huge now and she gulped her coffee and waited expectantly.
“You don’t want to know, believe me. I’m almost sorry I know.”
She wasn’t paying attention anymore. Her face was taut and even in the dim light I could see concern in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. I turned to the door and saw a familiar figure, slim and young, with a department approved mustache and a day’s beard growth. Eileen tried to hide behind her laptop.
“The man who just came in,” she said. “I saw him down the block earlier. I think he’s following me.”
“It’s Officer McGraw in plainclothes,” I said. “He’s one of Steve’s men. He’s probably searching for me.”
Eileen ejected the DVD from the laptop and clumsily jammed it into the plastic sleeve. “Take it. I don’t want him to see us together. I need to get out of here.”
“Well, I don’t want him to see me either. I’m supposed to be under house arrest.” I slipped the DVD into my purse. “Is there a back exit?”
McGraw scanned the room. I hoped his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet. We stumbled over each other, juggling our purses and Eileen’s laptop and briefcase.
“The ladies room is open,” she said.
I followed her through the door into an unlit bathroom and fumbled for a light switch. It took a minute for me to realize the web brushing across my face actually was a string connected to the overhead light. I flicked it on and we stared at each other in a frenzy. Seeing each other’s worried faces made us laugh.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I said.
Eileen turned and cracked the door open in the one-toilet, one-sink, one-mirror bathroom. “He’s coming this way.”
“What are you doing?” I said.
“I’m locking the door.”
“Don’t.” I snapped off the light and we were in the dark again.
“What are you doing? He’ll come in.”
“If he sees the door is locked, he’ll wait to see who’s in here,” I whispered.
“What if he comes in?”
I shrugged, but she couldn’t see it. “We’ll have to take that chance.”
A minute went by and someone pushed the door open a couple of inches. We squeezed together against the wall behind the door. A hand fumbled for the light switch and Eileen jabbed me with a knuckle in the small of my back as if to say I told you so.
“What are you doing?” a shrill voice said.
“I’m looking for a friend,” McGraw said.
“In the women’s bathroom? Why don’t you wait for her to come out?”
Officer McGraw was being busted by a woman outside the door.
“I guess nobody’s in there,” he said. “I was just looking.”
The door whooshed open and suddenly there were three of us in the dark. The light flicked on, and I clasped my hand over the mouth of a young black-haired girl in dark pants and a halter top.
“Shh,” I said. “We’re hiding from him.”
The alarm in her eyes told me she was about to scream.
“He’s my boyfriend and he’s very jealous,” I said. “He follows me everywhere. He’s very possessive and he thinks I’m stepping out on him.”
She relaxed a bit, but when she turned and saw Eileen, the concern came back to her face.
“She’s the one I’m out with. We can’t let him find us here, he’ll go ballistic.” I took my hand away from her mouth and held my breath.
“Okay,” she said. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Will you check and see if he’s still out there?” Eileen said.
She nodded and cracked the door open.
“He’s going out the front door,” she said. “He’s not bad looking, but he seems mean.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Do you mind waiting a few more minutes? We need a place to hide until we’re sure he’s gone.”
“Well, I don’t seem to have to go any longer so I guess I can wait. I’ll come back and tell you when I’m sure he’s moved on.”
“You certainly know how to show a girl a good time,” Eileen said when the girl had gone.
“I think your guy tonight is going to have to go some to top our little date.”
“If he tries to get me in the ladies’ room, I’m scramming out on him,” she said.
“So, tell me about him.” I said.
“Oh, he drives a tow-truck. He drops off paperwork across the street once a week in the city records department and then he stops by to talk with me. I used to fill in at records over there. That’s where
we met. He said he misses having someone to talk to, sitting in the truck alone all day.”
“Oh, that’s interesting,” I said. “I’ve got a friend who . . .”
“He’s gone,” the black-haired girl said through a crack in the door. “He’s walking up Twenty-Third towards Lovejoy, looking in all the store windows on this side of the street.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Eileen and I left the tiny bathroom and went to the barista counter. A red-haired girl wiped the countertop with a wet cloth while the dragon tattoo on her bicep breathed fire at me.
“Is there another way out of here, aside from the front door?” I asked the dragon.
She looked at me blankly and waved the cloth over her shoulder. “You can go out through the storeroom. It opens into the alley.”
We walked behind the counter and down a narrow aisle filled with shelves of rich smelling coffee beans to a metal door at the end. I opened it and Eileen and I stood out in blustery fall air. My eyes dilated and it took me a minute to focus against the bright sun. The alley was graveled and by heading north we could exit a full block from where Officer McGraw was last seen.
“I’m going home,” I said, walking toward the end of the alley.
“Me too,” she said. “I’ll walk down to Twenty-First to catch the bus.”
“Be careful,” I said. “And have fun on your date tonight.”
“I will,” she said. She walked away from me and waved back. “Earl is fun to be around.”
I was busy plotting my elusive path home to make sure I didn’t run into McGraw, and I had walked a full block before what she said hit me. Earl? She has a date with a tow-truck driver named Earl?
Chapter 14
Since I first caught sight of the two watchers across the street Saturday, I’d been using the back alley. I entered the side yard between my house and garage and scanned the street, but saw no sign of the familiar sedan. What I did see was a huge white tow truck with half its wheels up on the sidewalk so it wouldn’t stick too far out in the street.
It was Earl’s tow truck. That meant Angel was home. I hurried out onto the front lawn and climbed two steps at a time up the porch. Inside, Angel sat at the dining room table, with the familiar space between her fingers where a cigarette used to rest. Around her were Earl, Dan, Jason and Dag.
