“Good, good. Keep me posted.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Logan, we got the FBI report back. It came from a gun shop in Bellefontaine, Ohio,” Randy told him.
“Great. Where is Bellefontaine?”
“Just across the Indiana border a little ways.”
“I’ll tell the Captain we’re going. I’ll meet you at the car,” Logan said heading off to the captain's office.
“Hey, Captain. We got a hit on the gun. We are headed to Bellefontaine, Ohio to check it out.”
“Outstanding. Is Nelson going with you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, I was just thinking. He seems to be pretty sharp. We may want to snag him away from Missing Persons when this is over,” the Captain replied.
Want me to ask him if he is interested?”
“Just sort of feel him out. You think he would be a good addition, don’t you?”
“I do. He has enough maturity to do the job right,” Logan said.
“Then go ahead and see if he has any interest before I initiate anything on my end.”
“Will do. We’re off,” he said and went to join Randy who was already in the car.
The ride was easy for the first part, all interstate. Once in Ohio, it was mostly two lane roads and as usual, cars slowed down when they saw a police car in their rearview mirror.
“What do you think of working on this side of the street?” Logan asked referring to homicide.
“It’s great. I have really enjoyed this. I don’t mean it like that sounded, you know. I just mean it is a far cry from Missing Persons,” Randy said.
“Why haven’t you ever applied for a transfer?”
“I don’t know. I just got used to being in that slot. It was comfortable. Maybe I got lazy,” he said, reflecting on his job.
“I doubt that. I do believe people get comfortable in a job and suddenly the time just slips by.”
“I guess that happened to me. How do you like it?” Randy asked.
“There are times I find it depressing and times I absolutely couldn’t imagine doing something else. I like the challenge. Every case is different and has its own twists and turns. I just love to bring the bad guy down. Murder is an unacceptable solution to any problem and I simply keep on it until I hunt them down. It may take me longer than the hot shots we have today but when I get them, they are going down for the count. I don’t take short cuts. When I hand a case over to the DA they don’t have to worry about what might pop up in court,” Logan told him.
“I like that. The ones who try to rush it and get the glory always end up costing more than they’re worth,” Randy agreed.
“Are you interested in transferring to Homicide?”
“I don’t know. I would have to think that over a little more. It’s exciting but I need to really think that through. I would have to give up being head of Missing Persons and all, but I kind of like the idea. Let me think on it some more.”
Logan liked what he was hearing. Randy wasn’t just jumping at the chance. He had always been methodical in his approach as well. Always turning things over and over and looking under rocks for the unexpected. He never just arrested someone and then had to let them go for lack of evidence.
Many of the other younger detectives thought he should be put out to pasture but those above knew that when the chips were down, Logan was who they would go with. You don’t get your gold shield by doing sloppy work. He thought that Randy would work out just fine.
***
“There it is,” Logan said pointing to a dingy storefront that said GUNS in neon.
“Nice place,” Randy replied.
“I’ll bet you this guy is going to turn out to be a jewel.”
They parked and went inside. It was dimly lit and smelled of stale tobacco smoke. Dust covered everything. A scruffy older man was sitting on a stool behind the counter.
“Cops,” he grunted.
“Correct. You the owner?”
“Yep. And you are?”
“Detectives Logan and Nelson. We’re here to check on a gun that came from this shop” Logan said handing over a slip of paper with the serial number on it. “It’s a Beretta 92F 9mm.”
“I don’t have to look it up. I know who bought it,” he said.
“You do? How would you know that without looking it up?”
“Cause, I only sold the one. Sold it to my brother,” he said.
“Your brother? And where does your brother live?”
“Well, he used to live down the street a ways, but he moved to Indiana a couple of weeks ago.”
Logan and Randy looked at each other.
“Let me get this straight. You sold the gun to your brother and then he moved to Indiana. Why did he buy the gun?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, our little town ain’t like Indianapolis. They got crime all over the place. He wanted to have some protection,” the old man told him.
“We are going to need his address,” Randy said.
“Don’t have it. He just moved. He ain’t told me where he is living yet.”
“Alright. Give us his full name and social security number. Also his driver’s license number.”
The old man started to protest but Logan just held up his hand, “Don’t. Don’t even go there. Just give us the information and we’ll leave you alone.”
He got out his registration book and wrote down the information. They had made a long trip and all they had to show for it was the name of the individual who bought the gun and his social security number. It wasn’t much but Logan had worked with less. Much less.
“What do you make of that?” the Captain asked when they got back.
“I’m not sure yet, but whatever it is, it’s not good. The chances of the gun shop owner selling the gun to his brother and then it being used in a murder seems awfully remote. Something isn’t right.”
“Okay, so keep on it,” the Captain said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“We got it,” Randy said excitedly, “He applied for a driver’s license and he popped up along with his address.”
“Great. Let’s take a cruise over there and clear this up,” Logan said.
It was Friday night and traffic was building up for the drive home. It took them almost an hour to get to the south side of town.
“Man, this place is as rundown as his brother’s shop,” Randy said, looking at the neighborhood.
Junk cars in several stages of being dismantled were parked everywhere. The yards were full of junk and litter. The police car was probably the only car within a four block area that still had four good tires on it. Logan wondered if that would last if they were inside long.
Randy knocked on the door as Logan stood back and to the side with his hand on his pistol. Randy stepped back and to the right as soon as he knocked. No one answered so he pounded on the door again.
“What the hell do you want?” a voice came through the door.
“Police. We want to talk to Harvey Landgraves,” Logan shouted back.
“What for?”
“Just open the door or we will be forced to kick it in,” Randy said.
“Hold your horses. I don’t know why you guys are always in such a big hurry,” he said opening the door.
“You Harvey Landgraves?”
“Yeah. What do you want?”
“Mr. Landgraves, do you own a Beretta? 9mm?” Logan asked.
“Nah. I sold that to my brother over in Ohio,” he said.
“You sold it to your brother? To James Landgraves in Bellefontaine, Ohio?” Randy asked
“Uh. You know my brother?” he stammered.
“Yes indeed. We had a nice chat with him just yesterday. Guess what? He said he sold the gun to you. Now isn’t that strange?” Logan said.
“Well ya’ see, he did sell it to me but I didn’t like it, so I sold it back to him,” he said.
Neither Logan nor Nelson said a thing. They just stood there looking at him
.
“Maybe he just forgot I sold back to him,” James said, not looking at either of them
“That isn’t gonna’ fly. You had better come with us,” Logan said.
“Why? I ain’t done nothing wrong,” he protested.
“Well, we can talk about it down at the station. You can come like you are or we can handcuff you. You decide,” Logan said taking a pair of cuffs from his back pocket.
“I need to call my brother first,” he said.
“After we talk to you,” Logan said starting to unclasp the handcuffs.
“Okay, okay. I’ll go. You don’t need those things,” James said.
***
Randy took him into the interrogation room while Logan went and got them drinks. He filled the Captain in on the way back to the room.
“Dr. Pepper, right?” Logan said, handing the can to James. He just grunted.
“Now why don’t we start all over? We know your brother sold you the gun. You brought it to Indianapolis. Now you say you sold it back to him. Here’s the thing. We know that isn’t true.”
“How do you know it isn’t? You don’t know what I did with the gun.”
“Well, you see we do know what happened to it. It was used to commit a murder,” Logan said.
“What? I didn’t kill anyone,” he shouted, knocking over his drink.
“Let’s just review the facts. You are the last person to have the gun registered in your name. We found the gun at the murder site. Someone had taken the trouble to try to file the serial number off but the FBI was able to raise it. You’re sitting here telling us you sold it back to your brother and we know that isn’t true. It doesn’t look too good for you from our perspective,” Logan said.
“You need to come clean,” Randy added.
“Look, I’m telling you, I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t hardly know anyone in this town. I just moved here,” he said.
“It doesn’t take long to commit a murder,” Randy said.
“I didn’t kill anyone. You have to believe me.”
“Why should we? You haven’t been the most honest person I have ever come across Mr. Landgraves.”
“Look, this is the truth this time…” he started.
“This time?” Randy interjected.
“I may have not been exactly up front but this is the truth. My car got broken into and it was stolen out of the glove box,” he said.
Logan and Randy neither one said a thing. They just waited.
“Really, that’s what happened. You saw that neighborhood.
Everyone steals anything not nailed down,” James said.
“What do you think Randy?” Logan asked.
“I think we need to charge him with murder and being a bad liar as well.”
“Me too. His stories aren’t even amusing. The least he could do was entertain us.”
“It was stolen; I’m telling you the truth.”
“Sorry, we aren’t buying it. Take him to booking,” Logan said.
“You got it,” Randy said, taking James by the arm.
“No. Wait. I’ll tell you the truth,” he said.
“Ah. Another truth,” Logan replied.
“Gosh, all of the truth is making me dizzy,” Randy added.
“No. This is really what happened. I bought the gun from Harvey for protection. I didn’t like the idea of living in a big city unarmed. Well, anyway, I was at this bar one night and was approached by this chick. She wanted to know what I was doing in the bar. I told her to shove off; I could go anyplace I wanted. She pointed out that it was a gay bar and I didn’t look the type. It caught me totally off guard. I started looking around and sure enough, it was full of queers and fags. It about made me sick. These two guys were swapping spit. It was enough to make me barf,” he said.
“Look, cut to the chase. Who bought the gun?” Logan said.
“Well the chick lightened up and told me to finish my beer. She noticed the gun in my pocket. You could see the outline of it. She asked me what I was packing. At first I thought she was making a play for me but then I remembered she was a queer. I told her and she wanted to see it,” he said.
“You just pulled out the gun and showed it to her?”
“No. We went out back, behind the bar.”
“And she wanted to buy it?”
“Yep, real bad,” James said.
“And you sold it to her,” Logan said.
“She offered me nine hundred dollars for the damn thing. What would you have done?” he asked.
“Not sold it to her. It’s against the law and that nine hundred dollars won’t even come close to covering your expenses for getting involved in this.”
“But man, all I did was sell her a 9mm. gun. You can’t do much with that thing.”
“For one thing, you can certainly kill someone with it,” Logan said.
“This ain’t right. It wasn’t my fault. How could I turn down that much cash? I only paid a two hundred and fifty for it. I would have been stupid not to let it go for that price,” James insisted.
“Who did you sell it to?” Randy asked.
“Hell, I don’t know. Some queer. She didn’t give a name and I didn’t ask”
“What did she look like?”
“Tall, blond hair. Big boned. She had on sunglasses, even in the bar and at night.”
“Could you recognize her if you saw her?” Logan asked.
“I think so. Maybe. I didn’t look too hard once she said she was a queer,” he said.
Logan pulled out a picture of Adriane Thompson and laid it on the desk.
“Damn. She got it right in the head,” he said and shuddered.
“Is that the woman that bought the gun?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. She was heavier and I think older than her,” he said pointing to the picture.
“You’re sure it isn’t her?”
“No, but I'm fairly positive that isn’t the woman, man or whatever she was. Like I said, it was dark and she had on glasses but she doesn’t fit what I remember,” he said.
“Alright. That’s what we needed to know,” Logan replied.
“I can go?”
“No. Sorry, but you have some unfinished business over the illegal sale of the gun that was used in the commission of a crime,” Randy said.
“But it wasn’t my fault. I just sold it to her. She is who you should get, not me.”
“Oh, we’ll get her too, don’t worry,” Logan said.
James was led down the hall to booking where he was fingerprinted, photographed, and put in a holding cell until his arraignment.
“It’s not my fault,” Logan said, “The war cry of America today.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“That’s her.”
“Where?”
“Getting out of the taxi.”
“Okay let’s go pick her up.”
The two men got out of the police car and approached her as the driver was starting to pull away from the curb.
“Marcia Burton?”
“Yes. Who are you?”
“Police,” the officer said, showing her his badge.
“What do you want?
“You need to come with us. Detective Logan wants to see you downtown.”
“Why? What’s wrong? I’ve been gone. I just got back and I haven’t even seen my roommate yet. I haven’t been able to reach her on the phone either. I need to check on her first,” Marcia replied.
“Sorry. You need to come with us. We will take care of your luggage.”
“Look. I’m going inside. I will not go with you until you tell me what this is about,” She said stubbornly.
“Alright your roommate was involved in an accident and we need for you to come with us and help clear this up.”
“Accident? What kind of accident? Where is she? Is she inside?”
“No, she isn’t. Please, just come with us. Detective Logan will fill you in when you get to the station. Ms. Thompson is not inside so you mi
ght as well come along with us.”
“Is she all right? How bad was the accident?” she said, starting to get hysterical.
“It’s going to be fine. Come on with us and you can find out everything you want to know.”
“Okay, but could we hurry? I have to know what happened to Andy,” she said frantically.
She kept asking a string of questions for the first five minutes but eventually settled back and just withdrew. By the time they arrived at the station she wasn’t saying much.
“Please have a seat; Detective Logan will be right with you.”
“I’ve been in this room before,” she replied.
She seemed dazed by what was going on. It was obvious that she was trying to prepare herself for the worst. A couple of minutes later Detective Logan and Nelson entered the room.
“Marcia, I’m detective John Logan and this is Randy Nelson. We understand you just got back from Florida today. I know you have a thousand questions but first let me tell you why you’re here. There is no easy way to say this but your friend, Adriane Thompson, committed suicide. I’m sorry to have to tell you this.”
“No. No. No. That can’t be true,” she wailed. Tears started running down her cheeks, “She would never kill herself. She loved me and would never leave me. You have to be wrong. It wasn’t Andy. It was someone else. This has to be a mistake. I know her. She would never do this. Not to me,” she cried, starting to get hysterical.
“I’m sorry. We have already done a fingerprint check. It’s Adriane Thompson. We have a positive ID,” Randy said.
“No, this just can’t be real. We had just made plans to go to Europe this summer. We have our tickets and everything. Why would she do this? I don’t understand,” she said, laying her head on the table and covering her head with her arms.
She was sobbing uncontrollably. Logan waited for several moments before speaking.
“Marcia, can you shed any light on this at all? She left a note but it doesn’t really help to clear this up,” Logan said.
“What kind of note?” she said, picking her head up from the table. A wet spot was on the table where her tears had collected. Mucus was running from her nose but she didn’t seem to care.
BLONDE DECEPTION - The Logan Files Page 9
