Always Watching

by LS Sygnet

  “Oh my God.”

  “Relax. Like I said, we’ll do damage control before this thing goes public.”

  “You could’ve made an official request and gotten the man’s file that way, Helen.”

  “How many more dead children should I expect to find while I wait while the left hand decides it’s all right for the right hand to disclose an embarrassment? No thanks, Will.”

  “Point taken.”

  “I won’t use this information without a formal request for the file – beyond leverage with Melissa Sherman and her lawyer. It’s a starting point for us. Maybe now we can finally move this investigation forward.” I paused. “I am happy that Deanna is doing well, Will.”

  “And I remain forever in your debt.”

  “We’re even now,” I said. “Think of all the little girls you probably helped me save today.”

  His gasp punctuated the end of our conversation.

  I replaced the receiver and stared at the name on the paper in front of me. Gill Vorre. Who was he really before he became Eugene Sherman?

  “Helen?”

  I looked up. Johnny, Crevan and Zack made my office shrink to the size of a small broom closet. “When did you get here?”

  “About the same time you led whoever you were talking to –”

  “That’s not important, Zack,” Johnny said. “We use deception on a regular basis to get to the truth. Was that they guy from the State Department Crevan said you called?”

  “Yes. The man all of Montgomery has revered as Eugene Sherman was nothing but an identity thief. Fortunately for us, he was a thief who also worked for the State Department.”

  “In what capacity?” Johnny didn’t have room to pace. The rhythmic clench of his fists spoke his desire to move.

  “A lowly chef of all things.” I waved the page in front of them. “Thanks to my lie of omission to an old colleague, we’ve got a name. Gentlemen, the man from Montgomery, buried in a grave marked Eugene Sherman is actually Gill Vorre.”

  “Which makes his wife –”

  “Very suspicious,” I said. “I’m wondering who Melissa Sherman really is too. Maybe she has more in common with Florence Payette than we ever imagined.”

  Crevan shuddered. “You do realize that the name makes an unsettling anagram, don’t you? Gill Vorre – girl lover. That’s just creepy in light of where this looks like it’s going.”

  Chapter 20

  While Crevan’s odd contribution curdled my stomach, Zack whipped out a cell phone and called his office. “We need to amend the indictment against Melissa Sherman to include the name Melissa Vorre. I’d like someone to start digging for records of when her marriage to Eugene Sherman, also known as Gill Vorre took place. We’re also going to need records regarding Eugene Sherman’s re-entry into the United States. Call me when you’ve got any information that could be useful.”

  It might matter, if we indicted Mrs. Sherman under the wrong name. All known aliases might be very helpful, not only for prosecution, but leverage. “According to Florence Payette, she married Sherman five years ago,” I said. “Wonder what her maiden name was?”

  Johnny shrugged. “Devlin called. They’re at the house in Montgomery. He says the place is like one of those community show-houses. Beautifully furnished, but nothing under the surface. We’re waiting for the warrant execution for bank records. We won’t have access to any of that until business resumes Monday morning.”

  I cleared my throat. “So, how much of my end of that conversation did you hear?”

  Johnny chuckled softly. “I suppose that would be about the time that you led your old pal from the State Department to believe that you’re still working for the FBI.”

  “A lie that merely expedited our access to the information we needed,” I waved it aside. “It had another benefit too, Zack. I already explained this to OSI, but don’t need men and women combing this city that look like federal agents. The last thing we want is for whoever is involved in this crime to think that we’ve got the slightest inkling of the scope involved. We want them to think we solved a single kidnapping incident, that we are cluelessly victorious.”

  “I get that, Helen, but at the same time, I’m concerned about the consequences of not informing the FBI about what we’ve uncovered so far.”

  Johnny intervened before I lost all patience. “When we’ve got more than suspicion, Helen will inform David Levine. At this point, there isn’t any real evidence, Zack. We’ve got one terrified woman who won’t exactly make a stellar witness against anybody, least of all the Sherman woman.”

  “True enough. She’s terrified,” Zack ran one hand through his hair. “What a mess. Every time we think we’re making headway in this city, some new horror surfaces.”

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Crevan said. “The more we uncover, the more we’re bound to expose. Let’s not forget how long our hands were tied in law enforcement by men like Jerry Lowe and Danny Datello’s under-the-table deals.”

  “We need to talk to Destiny Gerard,” I said. “If she’s the acting CEO of Datello Enterprises, she’s our way in to look at the fishing business’s books.”

  “Seriously, Helen, I doubt that Datello would’ve been arrogant enough to maintain any kind of paper trail that would’ve linked him to suspicious or illegal activities,” Zack said. “He managed to maintain the appearance of squeaky-clean operations at all of his major ventures.”

  “Still,” I said, “there could be subtle irregularities, say for instance fuel consumption on those large trawlers that doesn’t quite match up to the distances they would’ve traveled in U.S. waters that might point to proof that they’ve been meeting ships in international territory. I don’t expect to find a ledger that indicates the money made from smuggling slaves through Darkwater Bay.”

  “I guess there’s no gentle way to broach the subject with her,” Johnny said.

  “No, not a gentle one, but I have an idea of how to make sure Gerard cooperates. She was lurking when Dev and I talked to Celeste about Danny’s murder last night. I asked her then if it would be possible to delve into the records. She told us to speak to Destiny. I think that if we tell her that Agent Preston accused Danny of being involved in more than the kidnapping of their daughter, Celeste will insist that Gerard cooperate if for no other reason that to clear her husband’s name.”

  “That won’t guarantee that Gerard cooperates fully,” Johnny said.

  “It will if she doesn’t want to become a suspect in illegal business practices, Johnny. This woman could very well end up running Datello’s empire now. The last thing she’s going to want is all the scrutiny he endured over the years shifting to her,” I disagreed. “It might’ve been that she looked so angry last night because she realized that even though Danny is dead, we’re not convinced that his empire has crumbled.”

  “Good point,” Zack said. “Do you think you and Devlin could meet with Celeste again to make a formal request?”

  “I could probably call her,” I suggested. “God only knows when Dev’s going to be finished in Montgomery. I might even try to talk to Gerard first. She said she’s staying with Celeste until all of this mess is resolved.”

  Johnny frowned. “Interesting that she would put it that way, don’t you think, Doc? For all intents and purposes, they should believe it is resolved, since Celeste has her baby back.”

  I hadn’t considered that. “Perhaps she meant the funeral and everything that Celeste will have to deal with in the aftermath of Danny’s death. It isn’t like she’s got a ton of emotional support from her family. It sounds like they haven’t quite forgiven her for standing by her man.”

  “Maybe,” Johnny muttered. “Then again, I’m not about to trust anybody that Datello thought fit to run his business while he pondered life in prison.”

  “I’m not making much headway searching Darkwater Exchange, Helen,” Crevan said.

  “What is Darkwater Exchange?”

  “Darkwater Bay’s homegrown
version of a services and goods trading community,” Crevan said. “Think Craigslist, only without the national network. We figured something as sensitive as human trafficking might be buried in something that isn’t getting national attention. Problem is, I’m having a bit of trouble figuring out what exactly we should be looking for. I doubt they’re going to be overt.”

  “A huge part of where these women and children land is in prostitution and child pornography,” I said. “We’re not going to find the child pornographers without attracting attention from the feds that we really don’t want at this stage.”

  “So … prostitution?”

  “Remember what we talked about earlier, Crevan. Massage with a plus. Escorts, subtler than the real sleazy stuff we might see. Since Analynn Villanueva was from the Philippines, and statistically, we know that more women and children are stolen or tricked into being trafficked, let’s focus on that demographic in the search.”

  “Great,” he muttered. “Asian massage, escorts, et. cetera.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And if I find such local services?” he asked.

  “We’ll need to meet with them,” Johnny said. “They’re gonna have red flags flying all over the place if we do this as cops.”

  “You’re thinking more of a vice tactic?”

  Johnny nodded at me. “Darkwater’s red light district is located down on Mercer Boulevard.”

  I remembered. When Ned Williams and I interviewed a suspect in Journey Ireland’s assault at Christmastime, his alibi actually came from a dominatrix who operated from Mercer Boulevard. “Does OSI have a vice team working that area?”

  “No,” Johnny said. “The worst of it runs right through Central Division. I’ll give Charlie Haverston a call and see if they’ve got anyone down there undercover. My guess is that they’ve been too busy with major issues over the past eight months to get around to putting officers on Mercer to deal with prostitution.”

  “So you’re saying that we’re basically starting a vice operation from scratch.” I cursed softly under my breath. “Everything in this city is complicated a hundred times more than it should be after 15 years of Jerry Lowe looking the other way. I take it we don’t even have a small network of confidential informants?”

  “Maybe a few,” Crevan said. “Tony probably knows who to talk to down there. People that would be amenable to sharing information with the police.”

  “It begs the question to his amenability to speaking to you,” I said. “Sorry, Crevan, but it’s been two months and he’s still acting like a 12 year old.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Johnny said. “He knows better than to pull that crap with me.”

  “We’re still doing battle with Sherman’s attorney,” Zack said. “That’s why I’m here, Helen. He’s insisting on an arraignment hearing first thing Monday morning, since our judges have denied his request for a special arraignment hearing this weekend. I’m not sure how he found out that Agent Preston allegedly got Datello to confess to orchestrating a kidnapping from behind bars, that he acted alone and that Mrs. Sherman was merely a rube taken in this nefarious plot, but he knows.”

  “The obvious answer is that Sherman was in on the plot with Preston to begin with,” I said. “He knew full well what he planned to squeeze out of Danny.”

  “Now that Preston is dead, it’s a bit more complicated than his word against Officer Becker’s. Now it’s the dying declaration. I’m afraid that it may become admissible at the arraignment hearing unless we have direct testimony that contradicts her innocence in this plot.”

  “She told Devlin that her baby was stillborn, buried next to her husband. He viewed it as exigent circumstances when the nanny showed up with a newborn.”

  “That doesn’t contradict Preston’s story, this confession Datello made that he led Melissa Sherman to believe that it was a legal adoption. We could go with the angle of Payette claiming that the Shermans own her, but as Helen already pointed out, Florence would be a difficult witness on her best day.”

  “Dammit,” I muttered. “She’s going to weasel out of these charges.”

  “I have some serious concerns, Helen,” Carpenter confirmed my worst fear.

  “Have you talked to the nanny that was caring for the baby in Montgomery?” Johnny asked.

  “She’s unfortunately, disappeared. I’m not sure anyone even got her name,” Zack gave Crevan a pointed stare.

  “Sarah Holmes. I got a local address for her, but she claimed to work out of some day nanny agency in Montgomery. She was completely shocked that we showed up and took the child. Apparently it was her first day on the job.”

  “Get the name of that agency for me,” Johnny said. “I’ll confirm the story. It seems to fit with what Payette told Helen and Beatrice. Florence claimed that she was told she would be able to care for this baby herself. When we picked her up, that plan fell through, so Melissa Sherman would’ve needed a nanny in a hurry.”

  “Yes,” I muttered, “because God forbid a parent actually cares for her own child. What else does she have to do? Stay at home socialite?”

  Johnny chuckled. I suppose he suspected that a little bit of jealousy was rearing its ugly head with me, something I didn’t show previously when he showed up at the Christmas party with the petite, buxom beauty from his security business.

  “Claws in, darling,” he murmured. “Are you going to keep digging for background information on Gill Vorre?”

  “I’m not sure what I’ll find, considering that it appears he re-entered the U.S. under an assumed name. I’d like to talk to Dev and make sure he knows that we need Melissa’s identity prior to her marriage to Vorre five years ago. Didn’t someone say she’s only 29 years old?”

  Crevan piped up. “According to her driver’s license, that’s her current age, although if you ask me, she’s been nipped and tucked enough to suspect that she’s a bit older than late twenties.”

  I shuddered. “What on earth would a 29 year old woman want with a man who’s nearly 90 years old? It’s just beyond comprehension. The guy was old enough to be her grandfather. Do we even know if this stillbirth story was true?”

  “We should look into it,” Zack said. “It could establish a pattern of dishonesty if she lied to the police about one dead child.”

  “Or we could discover that her first attempt at having a baby was another abducted child. If there is a baby, maybe an exhumation would be in order to determine if the child’s DNA matches hers,” I said. “Maya’s got Preston pushed to the front of the line right now, but considering that we’re under such time constraints on this one, she’d be glad to re-prioritize again. I think she could get mitochondrial DNA faster than the nuclear DNA test is completed.”

  “It’ll be cause for another battle with her attorney,” Zack said. “He’s not going to cooperate with anything that might incriminate his client.”

  “If he cooperates, it might be a sign that this stillborn story is true, which in turn could give more credence to Preston’s claim that Datello intended to give her legal custody of the baby,” Johnny said.

  “That assumes that there was a stillborn child,” Crevan reminded him. “Which I’m not sure is true at all. She seemed more than a little irritated when the nanny came in with a fussy child.”

  “I understand why you arrested this woman on the spot, guys, but really, it would’ve been far better if we had built a more compelling case with stronger evidence before she was taken into custody. As it stands, we’ll be lucky if this doesn’t end in a civil suit by noon Monday. We’ve got holes all over the place, more questions than answers, nothing that explains how this baby got from Florence Payette to Montgomery –”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted Zack. “That’s it. Florence Payette can identify the person she gave that baby to. We need to get her looking at photos of –”

  “Of whom, my dear?” Johnny said.

  “A sketch artist then. There’s got to be some way to find out, or at least get a desc
ription of the person who delivered the baby to Melissa Sherman.”

  “Not to Sherman,” Johnny said. “To the nanny. Remember. Sherman was at that fundraiser thing the night the baby was kidnapped.”

  “Johnny, that nanny was very clear. The day we showed up to question Sherman was the first day she cared for the baby,” Crevan said.

  The hairs on the back of my neck tightened with the beginning of a hunch. “So, if Sherman was at that party with you until what time?”

  “Eleven,” Johnny said. “I dropped her off at the house at eleven, saw her inside and went back to the governor’s mansion. I wasn’t inside for more than two minutes. She asked me if I wanted a nightcap. I politely declined, and left.”

  “That fits with what Gillette told Devlin,” I said.

  “He was watching her house that night?”

  I’m not sure what offended Johnny more – that there was a single detail I’d left out of the investigation before he was part of it, or that I seemed to need independent corroboration that he was telling the truth. Probably the latter. Perversely, I didn’t care so much that he knew I dared doubt him.

  “We had a statement from Payette that the Sherman’s owned her,” I said. “I felt it was prudent to put her under surveillance.”

  “Well if Gillette was there watching all night, why didn’t he see someone show up with a baby?”

  “He got to the house around ten,” I said. “It’s what, a three and a half hour drive from Darkwater to Montgomery?”

  “Closer to four, if one isn’t speeding like a maniac,” Johnny huffed.

  “So the baby was abducted from the hospital between three and four PM. We suspect the time was closer to three-thirty, because that was when the nurse returned from her lunch break and found no one in the nursery with the babies. A few minutes later, Payette rushed in, breathless, and claimed that she had to take a bathroom break. The hospital called the Code Pink at four when Celeste’s nurse returned to take Sofia to her mother.”