Zack pulled up to the house with Armando and was surprised by the number of people who greeted him. One by one, he made his way through the house, shaking hands, thanking them for all their support. As Armando spoke, the room went silent, and they all were hanging on his every word for some answer to Patty’s senseless death.
“Detectives are interviewing the suspect who ran from us at the funeral. The best we know right now is he is a member of the Cornerview Gang.”
“The same guys we keep busting uptown,” one officer said.
“This is murder. The Cornerview Gang is small-time punks, it’s not their style; maybe a robbery, stolen goods, or shoplifting,” another officer said.
Armando interjected quickly. “I just got an update.” He read from his notepad. “I think they have graduated. The guy that ran from us is Diego. He is not talking yet, but he has a tattoo on his hand of a butterfly. It appears to be one of those fake tattoos, the removable kind, the Cornerview Gang uses.”
Zack could not believe that Patty’s murder was connected to his wife’s death twenty years ago. The pieces were connecting, and the butterfly tattoo could be the connection.
Chapter 15
The morning started as well as Zack could expect. He got to the dining room early so he could get the strange looks from all the residents out of the way. People meant well when they stopped him and offered their interpretations of what happened to Patty. Hearing, “It was God’s will,” or “She is in a better place,” just didn’t help Zack feel better. So, he would smile and walk on until he was interrupted by the next person. He knew the first contact after Patty’s funeral would be awkward for him and all the residents; it was time to address her death so everyone could move forward.
He made it through breakfast with no further disruption of what he hoped would be the start of a healing process so he could move on with his life. While it would never be the same, he knew it was the only way to survive. One part of him said to move on with his life. Another part, the detective side of him, said his wife and daughter-in-law’s deaths were related, even if they were years apart. The housekeeper walked around the dining room with a pot of coffee, and Zack waved his cup at her as he did every morning, indicating he was ready for another cup.
Zack knew it was only a matter of time before Emma Lou and Pearl would show up, and they did. Both were dressed like they were going someplace, with casual clothes on, earrings, and small necklaces; though all they would do was just sit around and wait for their favorite TV programs to come on. They took a seat at the table.
“Good Morning, Zack,” Emma Lou said, gently touching his hand.
“You look rested, Zack. Did you have a good night?” Pearl Ann asked with a big smile.
Zack looked up at them as he took a sip from his cup, his eyes barely peeking over the rim. “You two look nice. Where are you going?”
Emma Lou replied, “You could have stopped at we look nice. You always have to go too far.”
“I said you look nice,” he repeated, raising his voice and slamming his hand on the table.
“He is just taking his frustration out on us, Emma Lou. Let him vent,” Pearl Ann said in her usual soft tone.
“Please, Pearl Ann, don’t give me that sociology crap. I have every right to be pissed off.”
“Yes, you do, Zack. But your anger is directed at the wrong people. Is that the sociology crap you’re talking about?” she asked, again in her soft-spoken voice.
Zack jumped up and walked off. He took a few steps and quickly went back to his seat. “I’m sorry. You both look lovely, and maybe you have someplace to go today.”
Pearl Ann and Emma Lou looked at each other and smiled. They knew that was as near to an apology as they would get.
Zack headed to his room to get the morning newspaper, the local Times-Picayune he had delivered every morning since the day he moved in. He couldn’t start his morning without working the daily puzzle the paper published. He was a few days behind and planned to sit in the garden, relax on his favorite bench, and try to get Patty off his mind, even if it was just for a few minutes.
He walked through the hallway, acknowledging most of the staff by name and others with a smile and just, “Good morning.” They would give back a big smile or a hand wave, and that is all Zack needed from them. No small talk, no special treatment, he just wanted to move on with his life, but mostly get through his first day of grieving.
As expected, when he arrived in his room, Dave was in bed, sitting up, watching TV.
“Good morning, Zack,” Dave said louder than Zack would have liked for that early in the day.
“Good morning. I just came back to get my newspapers.”
“Well, that is a problem. There in the trash, and I believe housecleaning took the trash to the dumpster. You know how you are always on me about keeping the room clean.”
“My newspapers! You threw my papers away? What the hell were you thinking?” Zack shouted.
Dave went into a belly roll laugh and pulled the newspapers out from under the bed. “I wish you could have seen your face when I told you that.”
Zack slipped into the chair in the corner and put his hands over his face. Dave knew something was wrong. Zack put his head up and took his hands away, and tears were running down his cheek.
“I’m sorry, man; I should not have done that,” Dave said, kneeling in front of him.
“Why did they kill Patty?” Zack expressed in a whisper.
“Zack, you have to let it go; it will eat you up inside. I know it is hard, but you have to try to move on,” Dave said, trying not to join in a good cry.
Zack got up and took the newspapers off the bed and playfully beat Dave in the head with them.
“And don’t ever do that again,” he said as they both smiled and laughed it off.
Zack read the newspaper and worked his daily puzzle in the quiet area of the garden, sitting on the bench he and Andrew, the gardener, deemed their secret area in front of the brick wall housing the Evergreen Rehab Center plaque. Andrew worked quietly, clipping the dead roses off bushes in the rose garden but glanced at Zack every so often.
Zack broke the silence. “Andrew, you have something on your mind?”
Andrew walked over and sat on the bench. “How are you, Mr. Zack? You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine, but you know what I mean,” Zack said.
“Yea, I have been there a few times,” Andrew said, gazing into the trees.
Andrew invited Zack to the little cottage he called home at the back of the garden. He could have moved into the main house but felt it was best to be away from the people he worked around all day. The cottage was claimed to have been a carriage house from years ago.
“Zack, how about some tea?”
“That would be great,” Zack said, looking at the small, four-room structure he estimated to be less than six-hundred square feet. A kitchen with a table, small recliner chair in the corner in front of a TV stand that dated back twenty years, and a TV just as old.
Zack wandered around, opening cabinets. “These are real cypress doors.”
“Yeah, a guy down the street was remodeling and had them in a dumpster in the front of his house. It took me all day but I got them into the storage garage, and they sat there for months. I finally got the time to install them. I still have two cabinets left but don’t have any more room in here, and they are of such quality I hate to throw them out. I guess I’m more attached to them than the original owner.”
“They just don’t make cabinets like this anymore,” Zack said, rubbing the inside of the door.
“The tea is ready. Let’s sit outside. It’s such a beautiful day,” Andrew said, carrying the two teacups, the boiling water, and a selection of imported tea on a tray.
Zack wandered for a few seconds and opened a door he thought would be a storage pantry. “Oh, my god!” he said in a whisper, getting a full view, walking farther into the pantry.
“Zack,
the tea is ready,” Andrew called.
“Coming, Andrew,” Zach said as he quickly observed as much as he could throughout the room, closed the door, and went outside.
“Have a seat, Zack.”
Zack sat on an old, wooden chair that was more comfortable than it looked. He prepared his tea as thoughts raced through his head of what he had just seen. He knew he was sitting wide-eyed, looking at Andrew like he was seated in an interrogation room looking at a suspect.
Dave wandered through the garden and gave Zack the chance he needed to peruse his suspicion.
“Dave, join us,” Andrew said, getting up to fetch more hot water and a cup.
“Sounds great to me,” Dave said as he took a seat.
With Andrew in the house, Zack quickly told Dave, “Stay with him; I will be right back.”
“I just sat down,” Dave said in disgust.
“Just entertain him. I’ll be right back,” Zack said, all but running to the house.
He made it to his room, encountering no small talk from anyone and quickly locked the door. He reached under his bed but couldn’t extend his hand far enough to pull the handle of the luggage. Looking under the bed in the far corner was the bag he wanted. He slid under the bed and reached out for the handles of the canvas duffel bag that Johnny Guidry had sent him a few months earlier. Ruben Taylor delivered it to him and inside the bag was a note with Ruben’s local number. Zack pulled out a stun gun and a small handgun and stuck them in each of his side pockets.
“Johnny, you said to call if I ever needed anything,” Zack said into the phone. “Well, this might be a good time for you to come over and bring Detective Armando too.”
Zack gave directions to his location in the garden and quickly made his way back to Andrew and Dave at the backyard tea party.
“Zack, where have you been?” Andrew asked, freshening Zack’s tea.
“Thank you,” Zack said, looking around the garden like any good detective would, seeking his exit plan.
Zack continued with small talk, waiting for Johnny to show up. He was running out of things to talk about when Dave said, “Thanks for the tea. I need to get downstairs for my haircut.”
Zack was getting concerned until he heard cars pull up at the back gate. Leading the way was Johnny Guidry followed by Detective Armando.
“Mr. Nelson, you have a problem here?” Armando asked with complete authority.
“No, but Andrew has some explaining to do.”
Andrew looked at Zack like he was crazy. “What’s going on, Zack?”
“Not sure, Andrew, but we need to look at your house. Officer Guidry and Detective Armando just need to take a peek inside,” Zack said, leading them through the door.
“You can’t search my house without cause. I know that much about the law,” Andrew quickly replied.
Armando pulled Zack to the side. “You better have something here, or I will have some explaining to do to my commander.”
“Trust me. You need to see this.”
They asked Andrew to sit in a chair while Johnny watched over him. Zack led Armando to the closet and opened the door. He turned the light on, and Armando was amazed. Pinned to a corkboard on the wall were pictures taken of dead people on the coroner’s table after an autopsy. Above every picture were a name and a date. The first name was Maria Gonzales, Andrew’s wife; Joan Nelson, Zack’s wife; Jennifer, Patty’s friend; Patty Nelson; and a few more people who none recognized. Armando took Maria Gonzales’s picture down. Attached to the back was the coroner’s report, showing time of death, the cause of death, and various other medical words highlighted.
“This is very disturbing,” Zack said to Armando.
“I agree, and I have a lot of questions for him,” Armando said.
He carried Maria’s picture over to Andrew. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I don’t want any bullshit. Where did you get these pictures, and what is your involvement?”
Before Andrew could answer, his worst nightmare showed up. He could see Jack coming down the walkway.
“Zack, hide my pictures; please, hurry, before Jack sees them,” Andrew said in a whisper.
“Is he involved? How about we take you downtown?” Armando asked in an uncommonly low tone.
Andrew signaled with a head shake, giving his approval. Armando secured the picture in his coat.
“Okay, then let’s go downtown, and we will discuss this. Handcuff Andrew,” Armando said with his most commanding voice. “Officer Guidry, secure the living quarters and make sure no one goes in there until I get to the bottom of this.”
“Yes, sir,” Johnny Guidry said, closing the door to the cottage.
Armando had full control, and Jack stopped in his tracks once he knew they were police officers.
Jack walked right between Andrew and Armando. “What’s the problem, officer? Andrew, are you still growing pot? I discovered his growing a while back and told him he had to stop or get out.”
Armando gave a slight sigh of relief. “Yes, that is the issue, and I can’t have anyone in the cottage. I called drug enforcement, and an officer is bringing the dogs over to check the walls for possible storage of drugs,” he said, staying with the crime description Jack had laid out.
Chapter 16
Armando sat in the interrogation room with Andrew and prepared him for the interview. Andrew agreed he would make his statement in front of a camera, if Armando asked all the questions. Zack explained that it was not in his best interest to do this and should call an attorney. Andrew refused an attorney and said this was a long time coming, and it was time for him to disclose everything he knew. It was Armando and Andrew alone with a camera in a small interrogation room. Zack and a few other detectives could see and hear them from the control room.
“Just talk normally and repeat what you have told me for the record,” Armando said. Andrew nodded his head. “No, you have to speak. No head shaking and no hand gestures. Okay?” Armando went on record and said the date, time, and location of the interview. “State your name.”
“My name is Andrew Gonzales.”
“Mr. Gonzales, you have allowed the New Orleans Police Department to search your cottage on Wilson Drive in New Orleans. You allowed us to take as evidence these pictures I have placed in front of you and the information that was attached to them,” Armando said.
“Yes, I did.”
“Please explain how this picture got into your possession.”
Andrew went into detail of how it all started. He worked as a gardener during the day and helped clean the main house late at night. He was living on the premises, so taking on additional work was not an issue because his wife was in rehab and living there too.
One night, while he was cleaning Dr. Walter Ross’s office at Evergreen Rehab Center, he walked in on a nurse who was filing folders in a cabinet. An envelope fell on the floor, and a picture of a woman caught his eye. She appeared to be dead on a table. He knew the older lady and had often seen her around the garden. When the nurse left, he continued to clean, but the picture worked on his mind.
Before he left, he locked the office door and went to the file cabinet and looked through the folder. In the folder were the picture and a description of the death in medical terms. He looked deeper into the records and found other folders. They contained the same information: an image and medical records of the dead person. He didn’t think about it too much and never went back until another incident happened.
A few months after Andrew’s wife died, a lady he had seen at the rehab center, named Joan Nelson, died of a heart attack. Shortly after her death, he found himself in Dr. Ross’s office cleaning during the night. He once again checked the file and was shocked to find the same information and pictures for Joan Nelson, like he had seen for his wife Maria. He made copies and kept them secured in his room. When Evergreen Rehab Center burned, that was one of the few things he grabbed while exiting the house. The fire and water destroyed everything else.
On
ce he settled at Riverside Inn, he continued to check the files occasionally. He had collected over twenty-four folders with pictures and personal medical records explaining the deaths.
“Andrew, in your words, why did you keep these folders, and what did you think happened to these people?” Armando asked.
“I thought all these people had some connection. They all lived at Evergreen or Riverside and were healthy, for the most part. But then, Jennifer’s information showed up, and she wasn’t even living there, and then, Patty Nelson. I don’t know why I continued to search, but every time I did a new person showed up,” Andrew said with tears rolling down his face.
“Let’s take a break. Would you like some coffee?” Armando asked as he reached for the microphone and asked for someone to bring Andrew a cup of coffee.
Armando met his commander, Zack, and Officer Lindsey. She was the police department’s forensic pathologist who worked closely with the New Orleans Crime Division and the coroner’s office. They met in the control room that overlooked the interrogation room. They heard everything discussed and also recorded the testimony.
“Do we have anything to hold him on?” Armando asked.
“Possession of personal information of the deceased?” the commander asked.
“Is that a real crime?” Zack asked.
“No, unless we can prove he used the information to gain something,” Armando replied.
“I think you are looking in the wrong direction. Let me analyze the records and see if anything looks suspicious,” Lindsey said.
Armando poured himself a cup of coffee. “Is it normal for a doctor to keep such records?”
Lindsey was quick to reply as she always did when Armando was in the conversation. While she respected him as a good detective, he never seemed to do the same for her, and they had butted heads a few times.
True Blue Detective Page 15
