Tony Marcella 07 - Call of the Witch

by Dana E. Donovan

  “Lunch time!” said Carlos. The elevator doors had barely opened before he shouted it out. “Come on. Who’s going? I’m buying.”

  “You’re buying?” I said. “Aren’t you broke now?”

  “Oh yeah. Hey can you lend me some money? I’ll pay you back next payday.”

  “Payday was three days ago.”

  “Yes, and I gave all my money away last night. So either you can buy lunch, or you can lend me some money and I can buy lunch. Your call.”

  “I’ll buy lunch,” said Brittany. Clearly, she was new to the game. Carlos and I agreed that would be satisfactory.

  “Count me out,” said Dominic. “I have to get this evidence downtown, get it separated, cataloged and then send it to forensics.”

  “You can meet us there,” I said.

  “Where? The Perc?”

  “Where else?”

  “All right. We’ll see.”

  He said we’ll see, but I knew better. Dominic’s like a kid with a new toy when it comes to fresh evidence. Even though we have a state-of-the-art forensics lab with highly qualified technicians to run it, he still likes to hang around and watch the system work. And I think that’s a good thing. If he wasn’t there bugging the techs, then they wouldn’t be in a hurry to process our evidence and get him out of their hair. It’s a symbiotic relationship at best.

  WRAP UP

  Lunch at the Perc almost never tastes as good as it does right after a solved case. And though our case wasn’t exactly solved, the major criteria surrounding it were satisfied. Kelly was home safe, no one got hurt and the newest member of the detective squad, Detective Brittany Olson, proved herself a qualified and capable addition to our team. Together, it all made for some of the best tasting lunch I had in months. Of course, having Brittany pick up the tab didn’t hurt much either.

  We spent most of the lunch hour filling Brittany in on the events surrounding the ransom drop. I told her about the money pick up at the bank, about the stakeout formation and the sniper up on the roof. “We had all the bases covered,” I said. “Or so we thought.”

  Between mouthfuls, Carlos filled her in on the rest. He told her about Brewbaker dropping the money bag over the railing into the water, and about Dominic wading in to get it after we thought the kidnappers had failed to show.

  “Through astute observation,” he said, shamefully trying to impress Brittany, “standing on the bridge like a captain surveying his crew, I noticed what looked like drag lines in the creek bottom left by the cast net and rope. I told Dominic to check it out, and sure enough, I was right.”

  I gave him a look designed to wound. “Carlos, that’s not––”

  “Not important, I know. It doesn’t matter who noticed what. The important thing is that we were all out there together, doing our jobs, working as one to save a little girl and bring her home safely.”

  The rest of the story went much like that. Suffice it to say, without Carlos, the sun might not have even risen that morning; he was that magnificent.

  By the end of lunch, it was Brittany’s and my turn to fill Carlos in on the details Kelly provided us in her hospital room interview. He seemed only mildly interested until we got into the connect-the-dots issues that Dominic, Brittany and I discussed in the hospital hall. Then he became curious.

  “So what you’re telling me is that you think Kelly’s lying to you?”

  “I’m not sure if she’s lying,” I said, “so much as I think she’s withholding some truths.”

  “Do you think she got a look at her captors?”

  “I don’t know if we…wait a minute. Maybe I do. Brit, do you still have that photo of Kelly the kidnappers sent us.”

  “No. They sent that to Brewbaker’s phone, but we forwarded it to Carlos.”

  “Yeah, I should have it,” he said. He took his phone out and handed it to me, explaining, “My hands are greasy.”

  I gave the phone to Brittany. “Would you mind? I’m all thumbs with those things.”

  “Of course.” She took the phone, poked the screen a few times and pulled up the picture. “Interesting. Look at this.” She handed me the phone.

  “Uh-huh, just as I thought.”

  “What?”

  I turned the phone around for Carlos to see. “She’s not blindfolded. Unless whoever took this picture was wearing the hood, then Kelly saw who took her picture.”

  Brittany said, “You think we should go back to the hospital and talk to her?”

  “No.” I dismissed the idea with a light shake of my head. “They probably sent her home already. Besides, we need to get her statement down on tape. It’ll be interesting to see how it changes once she’s had a day or so to think about it.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. I’ve been doing this a long time. I know when something isn’t adding up. And Detectives, something definitely isn’t adding up.”

  “What about the footprints?” Carlos said.

  Brittany looked surprised. “What footprints?”

  “At the creek. I forgot to mention. We found these ridiculously large footprints in the mud. Whoever left them must have been a giant.” He spread his hands out over the table approximately fifteen inches apart. “What do you think, Tony, like this?”

  “At least,” I said.

  “How deep?” Brittany asked.

  “How deep what?”

  “The footprints. Were they sunk deep into the mud or not?”

  “I suppose.” Carlos dropped his hands. “Why do you ask?”

  I said, “She wants to know how heavy the guy was. And no, they weren’t set deep into the mud at all. They weren’t any deeper than ours––if even.”

  She shook her head. “Then he wasn’t a giant.”

  “Of course,” I said. “He wasn’t actually a.... Wait a sec. A giant?”

  “What are you thinking, Tony?”

  “The other day Lionel Brewbaker told me that Amanda’s theatrical troupe was performing at the dinner theater.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “He said the name of the play they were doing was called, Valley of the Giants.”

  “Yeah, I’m still not seeing it?”

  “I’m thinking the shoes that left those prints were props that the theater uses in their play.”

  Carlos snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Yesterday when we searched Hector’s van, we found some theater costumes, including a crazy large pair of pants and shirt. Looked like they could fit a giant.”

  “Did you find crazy large shoes?”

  “No.”

  “Then we have to assume someone got a hold of them ahead of time and planned to use them all along to try and throw us off track.”

  “You’ve got to admit, it’s clever,” Brittany said.

  “Too clever,” I answered. “At least for Hector and Martinez. If they’re involved, I have to believe there’s a third person involved as well, a mastermind who could pull all the strings from a distance. Brit, are you sure that Amanda Brewbaker didn’t use the phone the entire time you were with her this morning?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “And she never left your sight.”

  “No, except when she went to the bathroom.”

  “How many times did she do that while we were gone?”

  “I don’t know, three or four, but I made her leave her phone with me.”

  “That’s a lot of bathroom breaks for…what, an hour? Hour and a half?”

  “She said she was nervous.”

  Carlos said, “I pee a lot when I’m nervous.”

  I ignored him. “Amanda could have had a second phone,” I said. “She’s probably been pulling strings behind our backs all along.”

  “Tony, I….” Brittany’s face grew suddenly pale. “I didn’t think about a second phone.”

  “It’s all right. None of us did.” I took a sip of iced tea, dabbed my mouth with a paper napkin and laid it across my empty plate. “Come on. We have to get back to the o
ffice.”

  “But we haven’t had dessert,” Carlos complained.

  “You can have dessert later. Come on.”

  As we slid out of the booth, I heard Carlos say, “Sure, no dessert when Brittany’s buying. Could’ve seen that one coming.”

  Brittany peeled a couple of twenties off a fold of bills she had in her pocket and tossed them on the table.

  We were just stepping off the elevator on the second floor of the Justice Center when Spinelli called me on the phone. I answered, “Dominic, we’re here in the building. Where are you?”

  “Oh, man. Tony, you’ve got to hurry. You won’t believe it. You just won’t believe it.”

  “Won’t believe what?”

  “I gotta show you. Hurry.”

  “All right. Tell me where you are.”

  “The media room. Second floor.”

  “We’re there now.”

  I hung the phone up at nearly the same instant I opened the door to the media room where Dominic was sitting at a console, reviewing scores of security tapes he had acquired within the past three days.

  “Tony! Carlos! Brit!” he seemed about as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. “Come here. You won’t believe this!”

  The three of us hurried around the console and huddled behind him in front of a twenty-one inch monitor, queued up and paused on what looked like a pole-mount video view of a highway bus stop.

  “Look here,” he said. “Remember how I told you that all the calls made from Kelly’s phone to Lionel’s were relayed off various cell towers around the Bay State area?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I told you that all the towers were located along major truck routes, state roads and county interchanges?”

  “Yes, Dominic. I remember.”

  “Well, see I got to thinking after I found that bus token among Kelly’s belongings, that major truck routes are also major bus routes.”

  “Okay?”

  He pointed at the monitor. “I’ve watched all these security videos before, matching up the time and date stamps with the exact time each of the various cell calls came in to Lionel’s phone from Kelly’s.”

  I was beginning to get impatient with him, wishing he’d simply get to the point and tell us what he’d found. But Dominic’s funny like that. If you don’t give him his moment in the spotlight, it deflates his ego and knocks the wind out of his sails. When that happens, it’s hard to pick him back up. He mopes around feeling sorry for himself for hours, sometimes days. Unlike Carlos, who bounces back from a knock down like a rubber ball. Between the two of them, I guess it balances out.

  “At first I was only reviewing the tapes looking for a van,” he continued. “I mean, not just a van, but a dark colored SUV as well. You remembered how I said that Dmitry Kovalchuk owned a dark colored SUV.”

  “I remember.”

  “Right, so I wanted to be thorough. If I didn’t see an SUV or a dark colored van in the shot, I figured the kidnappers were near enough to the tower to make the call, but just not in the camera’s view.”

  “Dominic, I don’t mean to rush you but….”

  “Okay, okay. The thing is, when I found the bus token in with Kelly’s stuff, it started me thinking along totally different lines. I wondered what if the kidnappers rode a bus to all these places, knowing that we’d be looking for their vehicle.”

  “That’s good thinking. If there’s one thing we keep giving these kidnappers credit for, it’s for being awfully clever.”

  “Exactly. And you know who else is awfully clever?”

  “Who?”

  Dominic hit the play button on the console and let the security tape advance. The four of us stood around the monitor watching as a municipal bus pulled to a stop in front of a roadside Waffle House and let off two passengers: a boy and a girl.

  Dominic stopped the tape again. “She is,” he said. “The girl with the 140 IQ.”

  I leaned over his shoulder and touched the screen with my index finger. “What the hell? Is that Kelly?”

  “That’s her.”

  “Son of a bitch! I don’t believe it.”

  “I told you.”

  “And who’s that?” I pointed to the boy.

  Carlos said, “That’s Brian Weismann, Kelly’s schoolmate. He lives a couple of streets down from her.”

  Dominic hit the play button again. The video advanced. “Watch the boy now. See here, he takes the phone from Kelly, attaches it to a scrambler device, dials the number and holds the phone to his ear.” At that point, Dominic drew our attention to the time and date stamp on the lower right hand corner of the screen. “That was call number seven, Sunday morning, establishing the details of the first ransom drop at Freedom Park.” He waited until Brian ended the call and the two children congratulated each other with high-fives, and then hit the pause button again.

  “Unbelievable,” I said, falling into a chair just close enough behind me to keep me from hitting the floor. “Are you telling me Kelly orchestrated her own kidnapping?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And this kid, Brian, helped her?”

  “That’s what it looks like.”

  “Now I understand,” said Carlos. He turned around and took the seat next to mine. “Remember Saturday afternoon when the second call came in. Somehow, the caller knew we were there. We thought the kidnappers were watching the house. They weren’t. That call came in right after Brian stopped by the house to return Kelly’s books.”

  “He was doing reconnaissance,” said Dominic. “Kelly sent him in to check out the situation after the initial call.”

  “There’s your giant shoes,” Brittany remarked.

  “Excuse me.”

  “Kelly had access to Hector’s van the day before the kidnapping when Raul drove his mother home to do the Brewbaker’s laundry. She probably already had the details of the ransom pickup worked out in her head. When she saw those shoes she recognized an opportunity and took them to cover her tracks, so to speak.”

  “But why?” I said. “She’s a bright girl with such a bright future.”

  “She probably just got bored,” Carlos offered.

  “I think she’s crying out for attention,” said Dominic. “The poor kid is an afterthought in her parent’s life.”

  Brittany shook her head doubtfully. “Well, she’s got some attention now.”

  On that note, I was about to offer my two cents, when my phone rang, stopping me flat. It was Lilith. Her voice sounded broken and scattered.

  “Lilith, slow down,” I said. I stood up and pressed the phone tightly to my ear. “Start over.”

  I’ll spare you her side of the conversation. Her mix of words and my interpretation of them probably wouldn’t make sense anyway. But this is what the others in the room heard of my side.

  “Yes. No, tell me.” I looked at Dominic. “Yes, he’s right here.” I saw Dominic take a deep breath, but I didn’t see him let it out. “Lilith, calm down. Tell me what happened.” I knew the others could hear the anxiety in her voice leaking out between the phone and my fingers, but they couldn’t hear what she was saying. “What?” Carlos stood and crowded my left side. “When?” Brittany crowded my right. “Where?” Dominic grabbed my arm. “Is she all right? My God.” I checked my watch. “We’re on our way.”

  I tucked the phone back in my pocket. Dominic’s grip on my arm dug in like talons. “What is it?” he said.

  “It’s Ursula.”

  He squeezed my arm tighter. “What about her? Is she all right? Is the baby all right? Where is she?”

  “Calm down. It’s gonna be fine.”

  “Where is she, Tony!”

  “She’s at the hospital. Lilith called 911.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “She fell. Got lightheaded I think. Lilith called the ambulance as a precaution.”

  “No she didn’t. Lilith would never let anyone look at Ursula unless it was an emergency. I’m going to the hospital right now!”


  “Wait! We’ll get a cruiser and run the lights.”

  “I’ll drive,” said Carlos. “You two meet us there. Come on Dominic. Run!”

  Brittany and I followed Carlos and Dominic, opting for the stairs instead of the elevator because it was quicker. Once outside, I could smell the rubber from Carlos’ spinning tires. He was out of the parking lot even before Brittany and I made it to our car.

  We got to the hospital in under five minutes and went straight to emergency. There was a set of swinging doors that we couldn’t pass, but Dominic was already beyond them. Lilith saw me coming and ran into my arms. I held her tightly and could feel her trembling. That’s when I knew it was serious. Even in moments of life and death, I’ve never known Lilith to tremble.

  I cupped my hands on the rounds of her shoulders and held her at arm’s length so that I could read her eyes. They were squeezed tight. I could see her pain.

  “Lilith. What happened?”

  “Ursula fell.” She shook her head as if not believing her own words. Her gaze wandered and seemed so suddenly distant. “We were having a good time,” she said. “Then Ursula complained of being lightheaded. We’d been checking her blood pressure. It was spiking and dropping all morning. That’s a sign that her vitals were kicking into maternal mode. I told her to say in bed. Tony, I was waiting on her hand and foot. I was doing everything for her I possibly could.”

  “I’m sure you were.”

  “I told her I was going to take a quick shower. I asked her if she needed anything. She said ‘no’. I said, are you sure? She said ‘yes’. So I went to take a shower. Next thing I knew, I heard a loud thump. I came running out of the shower and I found her on the floor, unconscious.”

  “Oh, geeze.” I pulled her back into my arms.

  She began sobbing quietly, as if not wanting Brittany and Carlos to hear. I remember rubbing her back, trying to sooth her, and thinking how I had never seen her so vulnerable. Her heart was breaking. I knew it, and damn it, so was mine.

  After a while, she seemed to compose herself long enough to draw her head back and let me look into her eyes again. Even through the pain, they were amazingly beautiful, tear-filled and shimmering like black pearls. “Tony…” Her voice faded to a whisper.