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The Tustin Chronicles: A Detective Santy Mystery

Page 15

by Louise Hathaway


  That night, Santy stays in, eating some leftover casserole dropped over by his surrogate mother next door. A widow, Mrs. Jenkins, is always offering food to Santy telling him he’s too thin and needs to eat more. He never refuses her and the food is always good. Things couldn’t be much better than this.

  Later that night, after returning from his walk with Gumbo, Santy sees an envelope wedged in his screen door. It’s marked “Santy - Personal”. He smiles and makes a note to send flowers to Margorie as thanks.

  Santy opens the envelope and starts going over each person. He asked for information on four people of interest that he interviewed just after the murder. Three of the four worked at Green Gardens and one was the bartender at the Swinging Door. The bartender turns out to have died, several years back. The same with one of the workers at Green Gardens. Of the two remaining people, one is still working at Green Gardens and the other is currently serving time in Atascadero for fraud. He decides to pay a visit to Green Gardens in the morning and see what he can turn up on witness number one.

  The next morning, Santy is up at the crack of dawn. He jumps in the shower, shaves and puts on one of his old suits. He hasn’t done this in a long time. What a hassle, he thinks. On his way out, he tells Gumbo, “I’ll be back in a while, guy. You’re on your own this morning. Don’t make a mess or bark too much.” Santy shuts and locks the door and walks over to his car.

  On his way out, Mrs. Jenkins sees him and says, “Wow, who’s that handsome fella? What happed to Dick?”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Jenkins. Look what that tuna casserole did for me! You should sell this stuff: you’d make a bundle.”

  “Oh, Mr. Santy,” she says to him, watering her petunias.

  Chapter 26

  Santy pulls into Green Gardens as the landscapers are beginning their day. Landscaping trucks are lined up ten-deep waiting for their loads of mulch. Santy parks and goes into the office. Little has changed in sixteen years, he thinks. Inside, it looks like the same place as well. It’s like a time warp. The same old desks and file cabinets. A man approaches him at the counter.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m here doing some follow-up on an old murder case I worked on years ago, back in 1976. I wanted to see if I could speak to Jorge Rodriguez again?”

  “Are you with the police department?”

  “Well, I,..”

  “Are you one of those cold-case detectives? I’ve seen on TV what you do. How exciting!”

  “Ah, yes. It is exciting.”

  “Absolutely; we’ll be glad to help. Who was it you said you wanted to speak to?”

  “Uh, Jorge Rodriguez. Does he still work here?”

  “Yes, let me go see if I can round him up.”

  Santy waits for a few minutes and then the manager comes back into the room with a short, older Mexican man.

  “Here’s Mr. Rodriguez.”

  “This Detective has some questions to ask you about the murder that happened back in 1976. Please, Detective, sit down.”

  They all gather around a table full of soil samples and invoices. Santy asks the man a few questions about the day of the murder and what he remembers. It soon becomes apparent that this witness, who is currently over 71, is suffering from some sort of senility. Santy can tell that he’s not all there when he asks him who the President is and he says he doesn’t know. The manager looks at Santy and apologizes to him. I’m sorry, but Jorge has not been doing well and we frankly keep him to make sure his family is taken care of. He enjoys his job but can’t remember too many things beyond sweeping.”

  Santy shakes both their hands and gets up, wishing them a good day. Before leaving, he asks the manager if he is familiar with Jose Perez. The manager’s face turns angry and he utters several words in Spanish. “That man was no good. I told Jose Gonzales that we shouldn’t have hired him, he was no good.” Santy asks him what happened.

  “He was arrested for writing bad checks and forgery. He stole money from us! We took care of him and his family and how does he repay us?—he steals from us! He deserves everything he gets!”

  Santy thanks him and goes out to his car. Backing out carefully, he squeezes by the landscaping trucks still doing their mulch ballet, one by one. He waves to the manager as he leaves. “Damn!” he utters. He thought this was going to give him more information. He does have the remaining witness, but he’s got to find a way to get in to question him. All the way home he is lost in his thoughts about the case.

  Back home, he takes his coat and tie off and gets Detective Brown on the phone.

  “Homicide, Brown here,” the detective answers.

  “Brownie, Santy here.”

  “Dick, what’s up?”

  “I’ve been going over the case notes and I’ve found one person I need to talk to about the murder. I’ve found issues with the witness statements that I need to go back over with one of them.”

  “Why not go see them and ask? It’s never stopped you before.”

  “Well, there’s a slight problem. I’m going to need your help with one of them.”

  “What can I do?” Brown asks incredulously. “This is your baby, Dick.”

  “The witness is a bit out of my reach. He’s spending some quality time for check kiting in Atascadero. I need you to go and talk to this guy.”

  “Oh, Dick. Why me?”

  “It’s easier for you to get in there than me. Doesn’t your brother still work up at Atascadero?”

  “Yes, he still does. What do you need to talk to him about that you don’t already know?”

  “When I interviewed him right after the murder, he claimed that he didn’t go to work the day of the murder and the day before. Last night, going over the case files, I found his name all over the truck check-out manifests for both days. He was there the day of the murder and the next day. I don’t know how we missed that. Probably because we gave up when Ivan was arrested. That’s the only thing I can think of. He lied to us about where he was. I know he’s hiding something.”

  “So you want me to talk to this guy about something that happened sixteen years ago?”

  “Yes, find out what he’s hiding. He knows something, Brownie.”

  “Well, I do have a parole hearing up there next week. I could see him then.”

  “That would be great!”

  “Why don’t we meet after work and I’ll get those case files back to you.”

  “I have to be in Fountain Valley at four. Maybe I’ll stop by. You gonna be home?”

  “Where else would I be?”

  “See you at 6:00?”

  “See you then, and thanks Brownie.”

  Chapter 27

  The next morning, Santy pours himself a cup of coffee. He fills Gumbo’s bowl and sits down to read the paper. Just then, he remembers that he needs to call the DA’s office for Clarissa. He sees the note on which he scribbled the words “Christine/DA” taped to the refrigerator.

  While Gumbo is noisily eating his breakfast, Santy calls his friend at the DA’s office.

  “Ted, its Santy. Dick Santy.”

  “Well I’ll be damned. What’ve you been up to? Aren’t you retired?”

  “Sure am. Still kicking, too.”

  “You lucky SOB. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I wonder if you could do me a favor. I’ve got a good friend who is looking to get in touch with Christine McAndrews, you know, the old DA’s wife. Do you have any idea where she’s living at?”

  “Wow, that’s a memory jogger. I remember her. It’s been awhile since she graced these halls. I honestly don’t know, but I know someone who does. Let me make a few calls and I’ll call you right back. You gonna be there for a while?”

  “Sure, let me give you my number.”

  Santy gives Ted his number and thanks him for his help. He hangs up the phone and returns to his coffee and the paper. Gumbo stares up at him with that look.

  “Oh I get it. You’re done and want your walk, now! Ok, little guy
. Let see what trouble we can find out there.”

  *******

  The next morning, Santy’s friend at the District Attorney’s office calls him back.

  “Dick, I think I’ve got some information on your search for Mrs. McAndrews. Seems Mrs. McAndrews is still living here in Orange County. She’s in Hoag hospital and from what I hear she’s pretty sick, I think from cancer. A few of our HR folks still stay in contact with her.”

  “Wow, that’s great, Ted. I owe you one for this, pal.”

  “No problem, glad I could help. I hope that this is what your friend is looking for.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Is she a family friend of the McAndrews?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Well, glad to be of help, Dick. Say, the next time you’re up in Santa Ana, look me up and we’ll have lunch at Pop’s. I’m sure they’d love to see you again.”

  “I will Ted. Thanks again.”

  Santy hangs up the phone. How are we going to do this? he thinks. Clarissa can’t just show up at her bedside and say, “Hi! I’m your daughter.” Or maybe she can…

  Chapter 28

  Detective Brown travels to Atascadero State Prison to conduct a parole hearing for a homicide felon. After the hearing, he has arranged to meet with Jose Perez. A deputy escorts him down several corridors lined with metal doors and heavy steel bars. They pass through several checkpoints before Brown is ushered into a small room where his witness, Jose Perez, is already sitting. Jose stands and shakes Brown’s hand.

  “I’ll leave you two for now. If you need anything just pick up the phone over there and we’ll come over,” the deputy says.

  Jose Perez has been in prison for check kiting and fraud for the past five years. He is a short man, greying at the temples. He looks beaten down and tired looking, much older than his forty-seven years.

  “Hello, Jose. I’m Detective Brown. I’m with the Santa Ana Police Department. You might remember speaking to my colleagues about a murder case back in 1976. A body was found in the compost at Green Gardens.”

  “I remember that, yes.”

  “I’ve been looking into that case again and we’ve found some discrepancies that we’d just like to clear up. It appears that when you were interviewed, you claimed that you were not working the day of the murder or the day after. Is that correct, to the best of your knowledge?”

  “Yes, I remember now. I was out, out at home those two days helping my family.”

  “Do you remember what you were doing those days?”

  “Uh, I was working on my house with my sons. We were doing some roofing on our house. Yes, we were doing roofing. You can ask my sons. They’ll confirm I was working there on our roof.”

  “Mr. Perez, I show that in 1976 you lived with your family in an apartment in Santa Ana. Is that correct?”

  “Uh, well, yes I think so.”

  “Well, if you lived in an apartment, why did you say you were doing work on your roof? The roof of the apartment you lived in? Mr. Perez, I think you’re hiding something from us about your whereabouts the day of the murder. Right here I have work records from Green Gardens that show your signature on truck manifests for both days. Is this your handwriting?”

  Jose looks at the documents. He looks down at the table and falls silent for a moment.

  “Detective, I’ve been in jail for over five years for a crime, I admit, I did commit. I’m a proud man and I will pay for my crimes, but I cannot be silent on some things anymore,” Jose says fingering the medallion on his Our Lady of Guadalupe necklace. “That poor young man who was murdered, I do know something about. But if I tell you, I want something in return. I want help in getting out of here. I’ve done my time and I miss my family and my children. Can you help me if I help you?”

  “Jose, I cannot promise you anything but I will put in a good word with the prosecutors on your behalf. They are very helpful when you help them go after the bad guys. Tell me what you know about the murder of Steve Rogers that day.”

  Chapter 29

  Perez talks about the night of Steve Rogers’ murder. A man name Jay, an investigator with the District Attorney’s Office, offered him $500 if he would help him dispose of a body and open the gate at Green Gardens that night. He wanted to put the body onto a truck, so that the body could be found there in the morning. Jay had told him that he had gotten into a fight with the victim and shot him accidentally. He asked Jose to meet him at his house first. When they were there, Perez saw what looked like a body wrapped in a tarp in Jay’s trunk. As Perez entered the garage, he saw Jay repeatedly hitting part of the body with a hammer. There was blood everywhere in Jay’s trunk.

  Perez told him, “Why are you hitting him with a hammer? It looks like he’s already dead.”

  Jay told him, “Don’t ask. I’ll make this worth your while.”

  They took Jay’s car to Green Gardens where the trucks are loaded up with mulch to be delivered the next day to the compost facility. They put his body up into the truck, covering him with compost. He saw Jay cut off some hair from the body and also take a sample of his blood. “No questions,” he warned Jose.

  Jose said that a few days later he heard that Steve Roger’s body had been found at Green Gardens. Then, he learned that Ivan Romanov had been convicted of the crime.

  “When was the last time you saw Jay?”

  “I saw him a few times after he paid me; but later, I just told him that I didn’t like working for him.”

  “Mr Perez, would you be willing to testify in court about what you’ve just told me?”

  “Yes, I would. Remember that you said you’d help me.”

  “Yes, I promise I will try to help.”

  Brown picks up the phone and tells the deputy he’s finished. The deputy returns and takes Perez away in handcuffs.

  Brown calls his brother and is escorted back to his office.

  “Can I use your phone?” Brown says.

  “Sure, have a seat.”

  Brown dials Santy’s number and waits for his answer. After several rings, he gets his answering machine. He starts to leave a message and suddenly hears Santy’s voice, “Brownie! Santy here. Did you talk to Perez? Did he tell you anything?”

  “Dick, you’re not going to believe this. He sang like a bird and man, the song is going to blow you away.”

  “What did he say? Tell me!”

  “I don’t have time now but I’ll be leaving in about an hour. I should be in your area in about three hours. Are you going to be home?”

  “I will not move,” Santy says.

  “See you then.”

  Brown hangs up and thanks his brother for his help. After taking care of some parole hearing housework, Brown says goodbye to his brother and heads for the 101A, south. He thinks, Santy is not going to believe this.

  *******

  About 6:30, Brown pulls into the RV park and slides up next to Santy’s RV. He parks and grabs his case with all his notes. Before he’s out of the car, Santy is bounding down the stairs with two glasses and fresh bottle of Glenfiddich.

  “Wow, the good stuff,” Brown says.

  “I’ve been saving this for the right occasion. Something tells me my timing is good.”

  They both sit at a small, camping table, in two camper chairs. A string of old Christmas lights blink above them on the RV.

  “So tell me what you found, Brownie. I’m dying to hear.”

  “Dick, I hate to say it, but your hunch was right. Perez was working both those days and when I pushed him on it, he went to confession right in front of me. He told me about how he worked with--get this, Jay Evans with the DA’s office--to hide Steve’s body in the back of one of the compost trucks!”

  Santy, almost choking on his whiskey, blurts out, “Oh my God. You’re kidding! Jay Evans! I can’t believe it. Why the hell did he want to kill Steve in the first place? Do you realize what this means? Do you, Brownie? What else has he been doing?”

  They both smile at ea
ch other in glorious disbelief.

  “This is gonna be some huge shit, Dick. I’ve got to sit down and try and put my head around it before I start talking to anyone. I don’t want to screw this one up. Don’t mention any of this to anyone, Dick. Please.”

  “I won’t. Take your time and let me know how you do,” Santy says.

  “I still don’t know how the blood and hair got into Ivan’s car. This doesn’t explain that. Was he working with Ivan somehow?” Dick ponders the question. Suddenly his eyes go big and he jumps up.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Santy scampers up into the RV and rustles around in all the case notes.

  “Got it!” Santy screams. “Look at this, Brownie. This is one of the arrest pictures when we nailed Ivan. Look over here, right near the corner.”

  “Sonofabitch, it’s him. Jay Evans. That bastard, it’s him and he’s standing next to the car. What’s he doing there?”

  “Look at this other picture, he’s leaning into the car. What do you think he could be doing? Planting evidence, I’ll tell ya! We’ve got him nailed, Brownie. We’ve got him nailed.”

  “They both take deep pulls on the whiskey and look out over the sand as the sun goes down. Santy pours another round.

  “Dick, stuff like this only happens, maybe once in a career. A case like this is huge.”

  “If you play your cards right, Brownie, you’ll be the new Lieutentant. Lieutenant Brown. Now that has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  They both smile and clink their glasses together.

  “To the good guys.”

  “To the good guys.”

 

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