Pretty City Murder

by Robert E. Dunn

  “The winters are cold. Topaz Lake is at 2,500 feet. He went up there in January only for the fishing contest.” Gerald asked the waitress for more wine. “He said San Francisco is home.”

  After the waitress filled Gerald’s glass a third time, Larry asked, “Did you see Cornelius lying dead on the floor?”

  “If I tell you the truth, will you believe me?”

  Larry answered, “Yes. Tell us everything.”

  “Yes. I went to Cornelius to borrow some money, just like I told you, because O’Hara fired me.”

  “How did you get in?”

  Larry’s expression had changed little...Gerald was beginning to sense a change. Something was bothering Larry.

  “Maybe, you should limit the amount of wine you’re drinking, Gerald.”

  There it is.

  Gerald sat back in his chair and grasped the seat with his hands. “The door to Cornelius’ apartment was open slightly, and I pushed it the rest of the way.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Nothing, at first.”

  “Did you go farther?” Larry asked.

  “I saw light, so I thought Cornelius wasn’t asleep. I called his name. There was no answer. I walked into the living room and saw him. I can’t describe how bad I felt. I walked over to him and knelt. He wasn’t breathing.”

  “Why didn’t you call 911?”

  “I backed out of the apartment. I didn’t know what to do. Here I’m in his apartment, and he’s dead.”

  Gerald saw Hieu’s ears take off their little hats in excitement upon hearing him say he was in Cornelius’ apartment.

  “You had a gun.”

  “Absolutely not, Inspector Trang. I came there to borrow money. I thought about calling the police. That’s when I heard someone coming. The dude came out of the stairwell. It was O’Hara.”

  Hieu sat forward. “What happened next?”

  “I told him he was too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Gerald placed both elbows on the table and said, “This is the part where you have to believe me. Both of you have to believe me.”

  “I believe you. Go on.”

  Larry accepted his cue. “We believe you. All you have to do is tell us the truth.”

  “Several days before Cornelius was killed, O’Hara told me he wanted Cornelius dead.”

  “After he fired you or before?” Larry asked.

  “Before. When I told him he was crazy, he fired me. I got it, and he knew it. If I did his dirty work, I could keep my job.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At first, I didn’t want to listen, but he kept talking, and I realized Cornelius was in danger. He was my friend, so I decided to listen. O’Hara said Cornelius was going to reveal information, and he couldn’t let that happen. I got the feeling that if I didn’t do what O’Hara said, he might kill me, too.”

  Larry stopped tapping his finger. “What happened next?”

  “Well, when I left his apartment and saw O’Hara, I panicked, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I was scared that I had been seen coming from Cornelius’ apartment. I said, ‘You’re too late.’ I punched him, and it knocked the wind out of him.

  “That’s when I saw it. There was a gun on the floor. I picked it up, cursed at him, got real close, and polished his face with it. Then I left.”

  “What happened to the gun?” Larry asked. He reached one hand over his bald head and the other hand followed. Then they came down on the table with a thud. “Where’s the gun?”

  “I can’t remember. It probably fell on the floor. I was angrier than any man could be, and I needed to get away, so I rode the elevator down.”

  “Did anyone see you leave the building?” Larry asked.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Didn’t Pepper see you leave?” Hieu asked.

  “I got off the elevator and went out the employee entrance in the back.”

  “What time was it?” they asked simultaneously.

  “Around twelve thirty.”

  “Are you in love with Pepper and would she cover for you?” Hieu asked.

  “She’s a good girl, no ariana, but we see each other, and sometimes I walk her home.”

  Larry asked, “What’s an ariana?”

  Hieu answered, “That’s a girly girl.”

  Larry pressed harder. “Is the rest of what you said true, all of it, Gerald?”

  “I swear it on a stack of bibles.”

  After a pause, Larry said, “All right.”

  “Thanks for the lunch and everything, Mr. Leahy.”

  “I think you and I can agree about one thing. Cornelius was a fine man.”

  “You’re right there, and one more thing. Pablo asked me for money. I refused to give him anything.”

  “Before or after Cornelius was killed?”

  “Before. I didn’t ask why he wanted money. I wasn’t going to be his man, and after he manhandled Pepper last night, I’m glad as hell I wasn’t.”

  Gerald wondered if he was understood or gave too much information.

  On the way back to Central, the sidewalk seemed to weave.

  Just keep up with them.

  He listened as Larry told the story to Varton.

  “Fingerprint him,” Varton said.

  Gerald looked at Larry. “But...but I thought you were happy with me for coming forward. Now you want to fingerprint me. What’s going on, man?”

  Larry answered very calmly, “A formality. Inspector Trang will get you fingerprinted.”

  “I’ve got a job interview at two o’clock.” Gerald’s shoulders drew back.

  “We’ll try to get you there on time.”

  Hieu took Gerald by the arm.

  •••

  Varton held up a report and told them that Morales had been seen at Seventh and Market. “Take a look. Hieu, we need to review the entire case.”

  Larry took the report, read it quickly, and handed it to Hieu.

  “We’re always a few steps behind. What do you think, Larry?”

  “I’ve been making notes on the case. Here.”

  Larry handed Joe a legal-size notepad.

  Varton read aloud:

  1) O’Hara tried to buy land for $50,000 and kept the money in the vault.

  2) O’Hara got Maureen Daley pregnant.

  3) Fletcher said $50,000 went missing from a hotel account.

  4) Chase took $50,000 to Cornelius.

  5) Security reported two nine-millimeter guns missing.

  6) The gun lying next to Cornelius is not the murder weapon.

  7) Smith denied he was in possession of a gun.

  8) Morales bought a gun and pawned it after the murder.

  9) Two broken fingernails were found outside the Security office.

  Larry said, “I need to add number ten. Smith says he saw Cornelius dead in his apartment and O’Hara in the hall. Smith says he picked up the gun O’Hara had dropped and left behind. Now, can I have the notepad back?”

  “What about these fingernails, Leahy?”

  “One is in evidence, and the other I have in a baggie in my office. Larissa handed me the one I put in the baggie. It came out of Morales’ pocket.”

  “Was it hers?”

  “She said it wasn’t.”

  “What’s their significance?”

  “I’m not sure,” Larry answered.

  “I got a call this morning. They finally got some fingerprints from the gun lying next to MacKenzie. They’re Smith’s,” Varton said, pleased with himself.

  “But that’s not the gun that killed Cornelius. The gun that killed him is missing. You said so yourself. The fingernails may be the key to solving this. You heard Smith say O’Hara wanted Cornelius dead, but I don’t believe O’Hara killed Cornelius either. The killer is somebody else. I just don’t know who.”

  “All right. You have one more day.”

  “For what?”

  “Before Smith is arrested. He admitted he was in Corne
lius’ apartment. He was the last person to see Cornelius alive.”

  “Smith doesn’t paint his nails!”

  When Larry got back to his office, he had difficulty adding number ten. The synesthesia was returning. The numbers weren’t really blue.

  He left Central at a few minutes before six o’clock.

  Lauren stood at the stove. A Jack Daniels bottle had been pushed to the corner of the counter.

  “You look tired,” she said.

  “Did you call Father Ralph?”

  Lauren sat down at the table. “He’s going on a retreat next Monday. He has a girlfriend. You know that, don’t you?”

  “That’s not true.” He looked out the window.

  “Ask around. Everyone knows.”

  “I don’t want to know. When I see or hear something I don’t like, I keep going as if I didn’t. Things work out much better that way.”

  Lauren showed him her hands. “They’re as red as your face.”

  “Lauren, God sends us trials to make us better. We don’t understand them. If we did, they wouldn’t be trials. God asks us to have faith and trust in him. God might be testing Ralph. I don’t know. Is dinner ready?”

  Lauren walked back to the stove.

  Larry followed her and continued into the entry hall. He grabbed his jacket off the bannister. Before sitting down, he extracted what was needed and placed it on the plate. Lauren sat down, pushed the jacket into the corner, and reached for a cigarette.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  Larry smiled. “What does it look like?”

  She lifted her elbows, pulled the ashtray closer, and lit up. “Well?”

  “I’ve got two fingernails that match. One I picked up outside the Security office the night of the murder, and the other was given to me by Larissa. She found it inside Pablo’s uniform jacket pocket. What a stroke of luck!”

  “Whose are they?”

  “I signed out of evidence the fingernail I had picked up, so I could compare it with the one Larissa gave me. It proves that Pablo picked up the fingernail outside the Security office just like I did. Whoever lost these fingernails must have been at the Security office. The odds are that she went there and took the other gun, the missing gun.”

  “What’s the difference?” Lauren puffed on her cigarette.

  Chapter 16

  Friday, July 12

  “Larry, it’s Hieu. Sorry to bother you at home.”

  “I’m in a rush to get to Mass. It’s...a quarter to eight. What’s up?”

  “Larry, I think I can find Morales.”

  “How?”

  “Larry, you hinted that O’Hara has a secret. It may be a bigger secret than we could imagine. I’ve got a hunch. You get hunches, and now I have one. I think Morales can tell us something. I’ve got the phone number for Vega, the kid who was arrested with Angel. I want to reach out to Vega to get to Morales.”

  “Call Joe. Ask him first.”

  “Of course.”

  “No. Let me. Hang on.”

  Hieu waited.

  “All right, Joe says go for it. Good luck, Hieu, and be careful what you do and where you go. Keep it public. Understand?” Larry asked.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve been watching you for weeks.”

  “Very good.”

  Hieu punched some numbers without delay.

  “Mr. Vega, this is Inspector Trang. How are you?”

  “I was released, and my lawyer said not to talk to anyone.”

  “I’m not asking you about your case. We’re worried about Pablo. He’s a pretty good friend, isn’t he?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. I just thought you might be able to help me out.” Hieu waited. “Is he with you?”

  “Hell no. Call his house.”

  Hieu heard the click.

  What happened between Vega and Pablo?

  Hieu punched in the numbers for the Morales home.

  A young voice answered, “Hello.”

  “May I speak to Pablo.”

  “He ain’t here. Who’s this?”

  “Inspector Trang. Angel, please let me talk to him.”

  “What for?”

  There it is.

  “Just let me talk to him. I want to meet him somewhere and talk. Nothing will happen. I’m not going to arrest him.”

  Hieu could hear some muffled words.

  “He said he’ll meet with you, but only to talk.”

  “Good. I promise nothing will happen. Just some talk. Where does he want to meet?”

  More muffled words.

  “He said Bayview Park. He’ll meet you there...at the top.”

  “All right. What time should I be there?” Hieu waited.

  More muffled voices.

  “Will you be alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “He said in one hour.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Hieu had been to the park before when he worked out of the Bayview Station. He had saved pictures on his phone. One showed a long road to the hilltop. It would take 30-45 minutes to get there. He changed into casual clothes, kissed his wife good-bye, and checked his service revolver.

  At the end of Key Street, he found a swinging fence blocking the road and turned off his engine. He left his light brown leather jacket on the front seat and pulled back the sleeves of the cream-colored, slim-fit hoodie picked out by his wife. She had said his tanned forearms looked manly.

  He skirted the locked fence, looked up the road, and gave himself ten minutes to reach the top and find Pablo. It was five minutes past nine.

  Patches of dry grass ran down the slopes, and he could see a stand of trees at the top. Along the way, he sneezed. Several broom plants with yellow blooms dotted the hillsides, and, if it were not for the seriousness of his mission, he might have enjoyed the hike.

  As he rounded a curve, he saw no one and began thinking he had been misled.

  Pablo stepped out from behind a red, rocky outcropping. He stood smoking a cigarette, which he threw away. He said something to Angel.

  “Hey, Pablo, I appreciate your coming.”

  “What you want from me?” Pablo stood against a bright blue sky.

  “I came alone.” Hieu looked over his shoulder down the road.

  Pablo was off-balance when they shook hands. His hand felt clammy, not dry as it should have been in the cool morning sunshine.

  Angel looked out at Highway 101 and toward San Bruno Mountain.

  Above them, eucalyptus branches rasped in the wind.

  “How have you been?” Hieu asked.

  “Baked.”

  “What’d you say that for?” Angel asked.

  “You should lay off the shit, Pablo,” Hieu said. He smelled pungent sweat. “Can we talk for a while?” Hieu looked for some agreement in his face. “Can we walk up to the ridge?”

  Pablo shrugged, and Angel followed.

  When they got to the top, Hieu stood about five feet from the brothers.

  “So, what’s your involvement in MacKenzie’s death?”

  “I got nothing to say about it.”

  “Okay, no problem.”

  Hieu didn’t like the way he was feeling, uncertain this was the right place or time. He thought about his own past snags, like his repeated efforts to explain his parents’ foreign customs to childhood friends, but he didn’t want the encounter to be a monologue.

  Larry had said, “Murder is like a spinning top. It twirls perfectly in balance. Put too much pressure on one side, and it falls over.” But Larry’s trouble with his own son and the difficulty he had explaining his father’s crime left Hieu questioning how much reliance he could put on anyone other than himself.

  Despite the bright sun, he felt gloom surrounding Pablo and watched him looking out in the distance over brown water. His posture, head up, eyes staring out into the distance, gave Hieu the impression that he was searching, but the only noise and action was vehicle traffic and a jet flying overhead.

  The three of t
hem stood together without saying a word, and Hieu waited.

  Another jet flew over them. Hieu decided the best way to engage Pablo was to talk about his family.

  “So, Pablo, where’s your father?”

  “I don’t know, man. I never knew him.”

  “What about that? Ever want to meet him?”

  “No.”

  “Ever want to talk to him?”

  “Yeah, sometimes.”

  Pablo’s wife beater had remnants of small, weedy spurs stuck to it. He leaned against the red rock and pulled out his cigarette pack. Angel asked for one.

  Hieu stood above them and, despite a dislike for cigarette smoke, took a couple steps closer. A few clumps of sod were all that was between them.

  “Pablo, we can talk to each other. There’s something you want to say, and no one will listen. So, let’s talk.”

  “About what?” Pablo sucked on his cigarette. A nose jet blew away like a memory to be forgotten, and Hieu waited.

  “Tell me about the problem eating you up.”

  “You won’t think I’m sick. It won’t make you sick...will it?”

  “No.” Hieu waited.

  “I’m not what everyone thinks. It won’t make you think I’m weird or something if I tell you?”

  Angel said, “Don’t say nothing. You can’t trust him.”

  Pablo lit another cigarette, and his head rose slowly.

  Hieu kept his balance on a single dirt clod.

  Suddenly, Pablo took off.

  Hieu gave chase down the road.

  In seconds, Hieu had him by the arm.

  Pablo tried to push him away and shrieked, “I’m not what you think, dude. Get your hands off me.”

  Hieu tightened his grip, ready to take a bigger man down, and shouted, “What the hell’s wrong with you, Pablo?”

  Pablo pulled up and swung at Hieu. Hieu caught his fist and pushed it up, grabbed him around his waist, and felled him on the weedy road. Hieu straddled Pablo and put a forearm across his neck.

  Once he had been subdued and appeared to be wounded, Hieu slowly got up and took a few steps back.

  “Now, get up and don’t move.”

  Hieu’s heartbeat was in his mouth, and he felt as if he were still astride Pablo and pinning him to the gravelly rubble. Hieu planted both feet firmly on the downward grade to keep himself from falling.

  Pablo slowly stood up.