Darren was certain there was no assignment in the sheriff’s office that would intimidate Claire. Throw Smarty into the mix and they were like a superhero and her sidekick. Her looks could get her into anywhere, her smarts could figure out what needed to be done, and she was tougher than any SWAT team member. Sometimes Darren looked at her as the sheriff’s secret weapon.
But Darren liked sticking to things he knew best. As he got more comfortable with Brutus and his ability to sniff out trouble, whether it was a bomb or a cadaver, Darren enjoyed working the assignments given to the Canine Assist Team. Very few canine units could afford to have their dogs cross-trained and equipped as well as this unit.
Because Brutus didn’t track or bite, they weren’t really used on regular patrol. But as long as they were members of the CAT, Darren was just happy they were all together. Sometimes he couldn’t believe he got paid to hang out with a girl like Claire and a buddy liked Tim.
Now, walking out of the headquarters building, wondering where his partners were, he saw one of the homicide detectives, Danny Weil, stepping out of his car in the parking lot. He stood by the Taurus with the driver’s door still open. Then he gave them his trademark smile and friendly wave and said, “Your boy Hallett is making us look bad.”
Darren glared and wished Brutus would growl. “Someone screwed him on the news article because he was telling the truth. He just wants the right person arrested.”
“We all do. That’s why Arnold Ludner is in jail.”
“What if he’s not the right man?”
“How else do you explain the sediment in his welcome mat?”
As Darren tried to come up with a smart reply, Brutus tugged on his lead and started sniffing Danny’s leg. Then he stuck his head into Danny’s car. Immediately he started to react oddly and looked like he was going to alert. It took Darren a moment to realize what was going on.
Darren said, “You were at the crime scene out at the canal, right?”
“Of course.”
He pointed at Brutus poking his head into the vehicle’s open door. “He’s alerting on the sediment you tracked into your car. That’s exactly how the sediment was tracked into the Ludner house.”
“I wasn’t even at the Ludner house, doofus.”
“But somebody from the crime scene was. There were a lot of us out there that day. Brutus and I were at both scenes. I was wearing different boots, so it probably wasn’t me. Apparently, it doesn’t take much of the sediment to make Brutus take notice. That’s why he wants to alert on your floor mat.”
The detective turned back to the dog sniffing inside his car.
It clearly frustrated the detective to have such a plausible explanation proven by a dog.
Then Brutus eased the situation by doing an abnormal alert Darren had never seen. Brutus peed on the front seat of Danny Weil’s car.
36
In the two days since Tim Hallett had been tossed from the detective bureau and returned to patrol for the second time, he had barely eaten or slept, and now he was starting to feel the effects. He had done virtually nothing but consider the Ludner case from a hundred different angles. Now, nibbling at the edges of a sub and talking with Claire and Darren, he was at a loss for what to do next.
He said, “I wish cases were more black and white.”
Claire said, “At least there haven’t been any more news stories. It was just that one quick blurb that really didn’t say anything negative about you at all. If you hadn’t been reassigned, it was a very positive article.”
“But everyone thinks I sabotaged the case to make myself look good. Some people even think I had the story planted. I can feel it around the headquarters building. Everyone thinks I want back in the detective bureau.”
Darren asked, “Do you?”
Hallett looked down at Rocky, sitting comfortably on the ground, and said, “Not at all. The only thing I wanted was to stop the kidnapper. To stop Ludner. My problem is I couldn’t conceive that the kidnapper was not Arnold Ludner. I was trying to make up for my error three years ago. I feel like a turd whenever I’m reminded of my exit from the detective bureau. Now I’ll never get redemption.”
Hallett thought about what he had said. Was he turning into that guy? The guy who only cared about what affected him? He said out loud, “Fusco and Weil will fight about glory and the real kidnapper might skate.”
Darren said, “Brutus showed that pompous ass Danny Weil how sediment from the crime scene could’ve been tracked into the house by one of us. He alerted on Danny’s car mat.”
“The sediment never would’ve held up in court. It could’ve come from anywhere on the canal. Anyone of us could have tracked it into the house. It could’ve come from…”
Claire looked at Hallett and said, “What’s wrong, Tim? Where else could it have come from?”
“We were watching the house the whole night from both sides, right?”
Both of his partners nodded.
“And only one person left during the entire surveillance, Ludner’s son, Arnold Junior.”
Darren said, “Yeah, so?”
“Could Arnold Junior be the attacker?”
Claire said, “The description from the girls was consistent. The attacker was a chubby, middle-aged man.”
“We look at Arnold Ludner Jr. and think of him as being relatively young at thirty-five. But the guy looks like shit. And teenagers are notoriously bad at judging ages over thirty. Do you think they could’ve just gotten confused? He may not be chubby as much as he’s beefy, having more muscle than fat, but that takes an experienced eye to detect. He could theoretically match the description, especially for as little as the girls saw him.”
Darren said, “Fusco wouldn’t want to hear that theory.”
Claire said, “Neither would homicide.”
Hallett smiled and said, “So I guess it’s up to us to check it out quietly. If we have enough time before they indict Ludner. Any ideas?”
Claire said, “One of the detectives’ theories is that the kidnapper uses stolen cars and possibly rentals.”
“I still don’t follow.”
“The Ludner brothers had a rental car at their compound, a black Chevy.”
Hallett considered it for a moment and said, “I see where you’re going with this, but we’re not in any position to issue subpoenas to rental car companies for their records.”
Darren had a big smile as he said, “I might be in a position to get that information.”
Hallett felt better just considering doing something proactive.
* * *
Junior needed to get out and drive around before he got back to work. Sometimes just doing minor chores cleared his head. But today nothing was easy because all he could think about was Michelle Swirsky. She had imbedded herself in his brain. He hated the thought of risking the police spotlight, but he could see no other path. It had something to do with what he had experienced with Tina Tictin. That ultimate display of power. When Katie Ziegler escaped, it didn’t affect him like this. He moved on. Or maybe it had to do with the way Michelle had hurt him physically. He just couldn’t let it go.
The idea of wasting all that effort to stay off the radar and make it tough for the cops annoyed him. Then he thought about Michelle, that athletic grace and fresh, beautiful smile. And the attitude that she thought she was better than him.
These girls didn’t make a decision about what was going to happen and when, he did. He was the creator of this universe where he got to study girls and learn everything there was about their backgrounds before he opened a whole new world to them. The physical part, feeling them squirm or shake underneath his touch, was such a small part of the sensation. Knowing he had dominated them and had imposed his will, that was what made him feel so special.
He’d convinced himself that if he had finished things with Michelle, he could’ve lived off his memories and fantasies for at least a few years. But now he didn’t see how that could happen. Not while she walked ar
ound so arrogant and carefree.
He tried to focus on something else. Anything. Then he gave in to the feeling and let his mind flood with images of what he imagined she would look like on the front seat of his car.
* * *
Darren had learned a lot about investigations in his time in the D-bureau. Fusco had helped him understand how to deal with people, and now he was gathering information without the use of subpoenas or any of the stuff he learned in the police academy. Police work really was about contacts. Knowing the right people and how they maintained information was the key to making things work. Even if he felt a little creepy asking Kim for the information.
He was honest as he stood in front of the Hertz counter and explained to her what he needed.
Kim looked at him and said, “I’m not supposed to give you any information like that. They’re very specific in training. We need a subpoena, and I have to call our legal department.” The whole time she was talking, she typed on a terminal but kept her eyes pretty much on Darren.
Brutus had put his paws up on the counter and laid his head so Kim could reach across and rub it. He had definitely figured this girl out even if Darren hadn’t.
Then Kim said, “Hypothetically, no one by the name of Ludner has rented any cars from us.”
Darren smiled as he realized how far out on a limb this girl was going for him. He appreciated it. But that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t found out anything useful.
Then Kim said, “I can ask down the row. We all help each other, and they want to help me impress you.” She gave him a wink as she hustled off to the left and talked to the girl at National Rental first.
About five minutes later she came back with notes written on the stationery from Sunshine Rental Vehicles, a small, independent company. Kim said, “Sunshine has horrible records, but they know a guy named Arnold Ludner Jr.” She slid a sheet of paper across the counter to him. “He usually rents a car for three or four days about every two weeks. Always pays in cash. They thought he just traveled for work.”
Darren looked down at the sheet of paper and smiled. It had all the dates going back for the past year. There were almost twenty different rental periods. He looked up and said, “You rock.”
Kim flashed that perfect smile and said, “Yes, I do.”
* * *
Claire Perkins had spent her four years at the Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Office on patrol or in the K-9 unit. She had only done surveillance since working on the temporary duty assignment in the detective bureau. Even though the three Chevy Tahoes that she, Tim Hallett, and Darren Mori drove were unmarked, they were still large white SUVs. The fact that they were following a convicted drug dealer, who was probably looking for surveillance, made their job that much tougher.
She used to think that she’d been raised in a household with a drug culture. Her mom and dad had no problem with marijuana being smoked openly in front of her, and she knew that her dad, especially, used all kinds of other drugs. That was one of the reasons he was constantly changing jobs and also why her mother left him when Claire was a little girl. But seeing these two brothers brought a whole new meaning to the phrase “drug culture.” These guys had combined capitalism and consumerism to make a small fortune. Even if their house didn’t show it. With their brother as their lawyer, they weren’t losing a lot in attorney fees every time they were arrested.
In a way, she was just going along with this idea to satisfy Tim Hallett and calm him down. Like most everyone else in the sheriff’s office, she was not convinced of Arnold Ludner’s innocence. There were just too many factors that could explain the attack on Michelle Swirsky while they had Arnold Ludner under surveillance.
Today, they had been following his son for about an hour and half on what looked like regular errands. She had monitored the radio in case they got a call, because this was just something they were doing on the side without any supervisory approval or guidance. They hadn’t even told Ruben Vasquez what they were doing. Although she suspected the dog trainer would approve of them working as a team.
Arnold Ludner Jr. drove his gold Toyota Highlander to the jail first. That was to visit his father, she was certain. It also gave them a chance to gas up their vehicles and let the dogs out to run for a few minutes. No visitor in history had ever slipped in and out of the Palm Beach County jail in less than an hour.
Then Ludner made a stop at the grocery store and visited his mother in the neighborhood not far from where Tina Tictin had disappeared. So far, Claire was impressed that the guy would visit both his father and his mother. She knew a lot of men that barely paid attention to their parents.
Then, trying to stay well back of the drug dealer, all three Tahoes followed him into one of the rougher sections of the county, just west of the sheriff’s office.
Hallett came over the radio. “I had to drive past him. I’ll pick him up if he heads north on Military Trail.”
Darren said, “I’ll hang back this way in case he comes back south.”
That left Claire with the “eye.” She loved the slang the detectives assigned to some of their duties. The “eye” was simply the person who had the best view of the subject. It was really the narcotics unit that did most of the surveillance, but she enjoyed getting experience in anything that had to do with police work.
She pulled the Tahoe into a spot across the street. Smarty automatically sat straight and was ready to move. Every time she stopped the car, the dog hoped it was a chance for him to chase after someone. She could tell Arnold Ludner Jr. had no idea he was being watched as he approached the side entrance to a cheesy strip mall. He met someone coming out the door of an unmarked office and immediately grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and whipped him against the wall. This wasn’t something she expected.
Claire got on the radio quickly and said, “He’s assaulting a white male, about forty years old. It looks like he might be trying to collect some money.”
Hallett said, “If he goes too far, we have to make a move. This is much faster than I wanted to confront him, but it’s your call, Claire.”
Claire watched, hoping the confrontation would resolve itself. Then she saw Ludner reach in his pocket and pull something metallic out. There was no more time to wait. She jumped on the radio and called out, “I think he’s got a knife. We have to move right now.”
* * *
As soon as Claire had advised them what was happening on the radio, Tim Hallett roared up to the shopping center to back her up. She had already crossed the street into the parking lot. Arnold Ludner Jr. jerked his head up, released the man he was holding against the wall, and started to sprint across the lot toward the street.
Hallett brought the Tahoe to a screeching halt, stepped out of the door, and shouted, “Really? You’re gonna run again?” It had no effect on the beefy man.
Hallett shouted, “I’m going to release my dog.”
Now the man froze at the edge of the parking lot.
Hallett stepped around the Tahoe, drawing his pistol. In a stressful situation, all a cop remembers is training. He had gone through arrest scenarios a thousand times on the training field so that now it was automatic. He looked over the front sight of his pistol and scanned the area immediately around the suspect. He noticed one hand closed and shouted, “Drop it.”
The metallic clink of the knife on the asphalt made Hallett hesitate. He took a quick glance to his right and saw Claire had the suspect covered with her pistol. Now he could go by the book.
Hallett said, “Raise your hands to the side.”
Arnold Ludner Jr. complied.
“Now walk slowly backward toward me.” When the suspect was ten feet away, Hallett told him to stop and drop to his knees, then out to a prone position. Hallett holstered his pistol, checking again to make sure Claire was in a position to shoot if she had to. He stepped forward, pulling the stainless steel handcuffs from their pouch and holding them in his left hand with the blades free to move.
He said, “Put your hands behind your back.”
The drug dealer had been through the drill before. Still lying on the ground, he struggled to touch the backs of his hands behind his back.
Hallett slid in with one knee on top of the suspect as he smoothly slapped the cuffs on him.
Arnold Ludner Jr. said, “Why are you following me?”
“Why did you threaten that man?”
“I was just showing him my knife.”
Hallett looked over his shoulder to see the man scurry into the office.
37
Darren Mori was upset he’d missed the confrontation with Arnold Ludner Jr. Those types of incidents, the kind where you pulled your gun and shouted at someone, were what he lived for. To him, that was the kind of shit that defined police work; the adrenaline rush after drawing a weapon, the thrill of doing something no one else in a civil society can do, made him regret his choice of surveillance posts. If he hadn’t been sitting down the street waiting to watch the suspect drive south, he might’ve been in position to help with the arrest.
Now, Tim Hallett had asked Darren to go into the office and interview the victim while he talked to the suspect out in the parking lot. The porcine, sweaty little man had a scuff on his chin and kept insisting nothing happened.
Darren said, “He pulled a knife on you.”
“Did he? If he did it was just to show it to me.” The man had an odd foreign accent that Darren couldn’t immediately identify. He was good with the different Caribbean and South American accents, but this definitely had a Middle Eastern flair to it.
Darren said, “How’d you get that mark on your chin?”
The man instinctively raised his finger to the welt, then pulled it away, saying, “Who knows how these things happen. I think this is just a huge mistake.”
“What kind of office is this?”
Scent of Murder Page 24
