No Second Chances

by Don Bruns

  TEN

  ‘They’ve scanned in over one thousand of his arrests, Q.’ Levy sat on the edge of Archer’s desk. He glanced at a clipboard he held. ‘They’ve discarded speeding charges and domestic disputes, except for violent confrontations. He’s got an arrest on someone passing counterfeit bills. Obviously the guy got federal time, not local, so that got tossed. Drugs, most of those charges they’ve ignored. Assault charges have been reviewed but only severe instances. If a guy slapped his wife and she swore out a complaint, they didn’t include it. If a guy took a pool cue to a bar full of patrons, then it made the list. Probably should, don’t you think?’

  ‘He arrested a guy who used a pool cue on a bar full of drunks? That’s a true story?’

  ‘The guy put something like fifteen in the hospital.’

  ‘A pool cue. Unique weapon.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Levy said, ‘there’s a method. If we don’t get a hit off the ones we’re flagging, we’ll go second tier. The guy who slapped his wife and got arrested for battery? We’ll call him in.’ Levy put his hands on the desk. ‘Now, what you got?’

  ‘There’s the girl who saw the guy with the tattooed necklace. It’s not much, but we’ve got a bulletin out, looking for a five-ten guy with a crown of thorns necklace. We’re contacting every tattoo parlor within twenty miles. So far, no feedback.’

  Levy smiled. ‘My final bit of good news, Q. Before I came in I got a message. There’s a pawnshop across the street from the drugstore. Lady who works the counter there says she didn’t see the shooting, didn’t hear anything.’

  ‘And how is this good news?’

  ‘Two days before the shooting, two days before Leroy was gunned down, this young black guy walks into the store. He’s looking at guitars. She was showing him the inventory but she said he was a little shifty. Kept looking at the ceiling, gazing around the store. She wasn’t sure why, but she paid attention to him and thought about that incident when she saw our bulletin.’

  ‘And that was because?’ Archer stared up at him.

  ‘He had a tattooed necklace. She remembered that.’

  ‘Now that’s a start.’

  ‘We get the populace involved, we’ve got a chance of solving this,’ Levy said.

  ‘Well, we’ve got a whole lot more than we did yesterday. However, nothing we can cash in. Let’s get out to that store, interview this lady, canvass the area and see if anyone else was visited by the necklace killer.’

  ‘Agreed. The guy was scoping out the neighborhood. Probably looking for cameras,’ Levy said.

  ‘And we haven’t found any. In that narrow block, no one seems to have video,’ Archer shook his head. ‘I’d think somebody, some business or residence would have video. You can’t walk across a street in this town without a camera picking up your actions. And we definitely don’t have the officer’s body cam. Damn. So what? We have another thousand arrests records to go?’

  Levy nodded an affirmative. ‘Everything points to Officer Leroy being a straight-up dude,’ he said. ‘A guy who followed the rules, came up with answers and was a damned good cop. Married, a couple of kids, one who’s a lawyer, one who is a public defender. I can’t possibly imagine why someone needed to put him away.’

  ‘And it could be,’ Archer took a deep breath, ‘as simple as someone just wanted to kill a cop.’

  ‘Could be,’ Levy nodded, ‘but I don’t think so. It seems this was staged. Too perfect.’

  ‘Funny you would say that. Solange Cordray said—’

  ‘The voodoo lady? You’re still in touch?’

  Archer nodded.

  ‘Q, anything going on between you two?’

  ‘No.’ He didn’t think so. Well, nothing physical. Nothing that either one of them was willing to admit. She had mentioned chemistry in their last conversation, but …

  ‘So, what did she say?’

  ‘She told me that she felt the death of Washington and Leroy were connected. And I think that Officer Montgomery got set up. Someone made sure he thought there was a gun involved in that robbery. I think there’s a good chance that’s why our guy Officer Montgomery pulled the trigger.’

  ‘I truly believe it was staged. It really seems that someone orchestrated it.’ Levy nodded his head. ‘Too convenient that we were on top of that call. How did someone know the perp was going to hold up the carry-out?’

  ‘Staged,’ Archer said. ‘I agree.’

  They both paused, logically putting the sequence together.

  ‘A call, either from a pay phone or a burner, told us that there was a robbery with a weapon. No trace of the call. The caller refused to give any contact information. Our Officer Montgomery responds and believes the dispatcher. He has no other choice. This is an armed robbery. He—’

  ‘He’s pretty much a rookie, Q. He got spooked and wanted to go home alive. When the perp pulled his hand out, the hand that was supposed to hold a gun, he defended himself. And of course, there was nothing there. I feel so sorry for that kid.’

  ‘Yeah. I get it. And somebody, or somebodies will decide whether that was the right move, but regardless, he shot an unarmed man. That is going to be a huge problem.’

  Levy stood up. ‘Anyway, addressing the case you’re on, I am hoping that later today or by the latest tomorrow the rest of Leroy’s arrest records and incidents will be listed. Then you can go over them and start interviewing the suspects. Tedious.’

  ‘It’s going to be a rough night, Josh.’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘You know, we had riots in Detroit. I’m not unfamiliar with what’s about to happen.’

  ‘I’ve read about some of your infamous riots.’

  ‘Reminds me of a T-shirt I saw before I came down here. Detroit vs. Everybody Else.’

  Levy chuckled.

  ‘I came to one conclusion back then, Josh. I am certain we can avoid this. It’s all very simple.’

  Levy nodded. ‘Oh, I see. So you’ve got the answer?’ Sarcasm dripped from his words. ‘Why haven’t you called the chief, the mayor? I’m certain they’d like to hear of this great idea.’

  ‘I’m convinced that they wouldn’t listen.’ Archer gave him half a smile. ‘It’s really an easy solution.’

  ‘You’re going to stop any chance of a riot tonight? You’ve got this all figured out.’

  ‘No. But I could stop it. And yes, I’ve got it all figured out. It’s not a brilliant idea, but it’s an idea that would save a lot of problems.’

  ‘Pretty cocky, Detective Archer. All right, tell me what we should do? How do we stop a riot.’

  ‘Don’t show up.’

  Levy paused. ‘Don’t show up?’

  ‘We don’t show up.’

  ‘You’re crazy.’

  ‘Josh, the rioters need an audience. Sane people stay off the street on nights like this so if we don’t show up, if the media doesn’t show up, the protestors have no one to interact with except themselves. There might be some minor looting, a little damage, but the riot doesn’t really start until we get there and the cameras are rolling.’

  ‘So, your feeling is we just make it worse. You said, “Sane people stay off the streets.” These are not sane people, Q.’

  ‘I’ve always thought … you line the streets with uniforms and swat team riot shields, you bring in the vehicles, which they love to torch, you bring in the tear gas, and the riot begins. Now they’ve got something to react to. You back it off, say two or three blocks from the scene. You quietly monitor the situation just in case, but no confrontation. It’s over almost before it starts.’

  ‘You may be right, Quentin, but the governor has already asked for help from the National Guard. The Highway Patrol is sending in troopers and, of course, our police department and some of the sheriff’s deputies will be there in full regalia. There will be riot shields and there will be vehicles.’

  ‘Then we will most certainly have a riot in Algiers.’

  ‘And I’m not going anywhere near the place,’ Levy
said. ‘I wish them all the luck in the world.’

  ‘You won’t have to be there,’ Archer shook his head. ‘Every network and every cable company in the country will have full coverage. There will be satellite trucks all over that neighborhood. News anchors will broadcast from here this evening. They’re showing up already. New Orleans will be the biggest story of the night.’ Archer paused. ‘You won’t have to be there, Josh. You can watch it on every channel on your television.’

  ‘Biggest story of the week, the next two weeks,’ Levy said.

  ‘I swear,’ Archer shook his head, ‘all they’ve got to do is ratchet it way down. If those people have no one to play to, they’ll go home. The game is over and we win.’

  ‘Interesting concept, Q.’

  ‘Too bad no one will put it to the test,’ he responded.

  ‘Let’s just hope that no one loses a life tonight.’

  ‘Let’s definitely hope it’s not one of the good guys.’ Archer was tired of the good guys losing. He fervently hoped that wasn’t going to happen this time.

  He silently prayed. No loss of life. There had already been too many killings in this case.

  ELEVEN

  She rode her motorbike to the morgue and Archer met her in the lobby.

  ‘Are you sure you’re up for this?’ She looked great. He had tried to prepare himself for the meeting, on a purely business level, and she was dressed appropriately, but the black leggings, the black blouse top and the short boots took his breath away. Solange Cordray was hauntingly beautiful.

  ‘Detective, I told you. I’ve dealt with dead people before.’

  ‘And that’s my job, dealing with dead people. However, it doesn’t make it any easier when I see them. I just wanted to be sure you were comfortable.’

  He ushered her into the inner sanctum.

  ‘They’ve brought the body out, covered in a sheet, and Officer Johnny Leroy is through that door. Would you like me to walk in with you? Do you need me to stay …’?

  ‘No.’ She glanced at the doors. ‘Don’t take any offense, Detective, but I work better alone.’

  ‘OK. I’ll be right here when you’re done.’

  Solange nodded, and pushed through the double doors.

  It was a matter of seven steps and she looked around the corner. The antiseptic smell of alcohol assaulted her olfactory senses. On a stainless-steel cart, a sheet strategically placed over the body from neck down, lay the naked remains of Officer Johnny Leroy. Two days dead. In two more days, the man would be under the ground, but today, there was essence of the body. She sensed it. He could tell her something. Anything at this point would be helpful.

  And yes, the sight of his head was not for the faint of heart. A large hole in his head, the back of his skull blown out. For a brief moment, she shuddered, the shattered face a brief distraction. Then she concentrated on the aura. She was in the same room as the maimed man. She closed her eyes and the odor dissipated. There was no reason to view him, only be aware of his presence. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

  ‘Fill me with your presence, Nanchons of Loa, spirits of the afterlife. What words, what thoughts are in the cavity? The shell of Johnny Leroy? Why was he killed?’

  And the thoughts came pouring out. Solange was overwhelmed with strong feelings.

  Nothing concrete. She had expected that. But she experienced a broad view of the man. And foremost was that he wanted to escape. That was her immediate revelation. He wanted to be free of the past. Her initial reaction was that his wish had been granted. Because she felt, very strongly, that he’d had a violent past. A history that he possibly regretted. It shook her. A man she didn’t know, only aware of him through media reports. Reported to be an upstanding member of society. Honored, decorated, yet … he wanted to escape his past. And he had. At least in this life. In the next life, she was certain that everyone would be confronted with their past, and forced to atone. His soul may have departed, but his spirit remained. His chi was powerful; it was asking for a higher acceptance, a ruling that would forgive him for his past transgressions.

  There was money involved. Quite a bit of money. And she was somewhat overwhelmed when she considered the source of the money. He’d been a cop, and by all appearances lived on a cop’s salary. But this was far more money than a police officer could make. And it seemed as if the money was still to be found. She closed her eyes, concentrating, but the source and the final destination of the wealth eluded her.

  Maybe a mattress, although she thought there was more money than a mattress might hold. Possibly he’d buried it or maybe deposited the ill-gotten gains in an offshore bank account? She did feel the money angle was important, but she really wanted to offer Detective Archer, Quentin, something more tangible. Things seldom worked out like that.

  She turned and stared at the mirror-shiny stainless-steel drawers that housed the cadavers. Leroy’s temporary home. Solange was jarringly aware of her own reflection. She stared back at the young woman dressed in black. A dark priestess, almost a perfect likeness. She raised her hand to brush back her hair and watched her mirror image do the same thing. She gasped. Something, a cloud, a vague image skirted across her mind. And she knew this was important. She closed her eyes and concentrated.

  There was a reflection in his past, she was convinced of it. The officer lived two lives. A mirror image of himself, one side good, one side bad. She’d known it when she first lit the reversible candle. Two flames uniting as one. Duality. The yin and the yang.

  And how did you explain to someone like Quentin Archer these mystical, vague interpretations. How was he supposed to act, what possible investigation could he mount based on her observations? He wanted facts, solid leads, concrete information, and she was unable to conjure up those leads. Gazing again at the reflective surfaces, the stainless-steel containers, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

  Leroy’s transgressions, she had a strong sense, were severe. As she stood there, her hands clenched tight, the body called to her. The corpse spoke directly, asking her to intercede, begging for some peace, forgiveness. For what, she wasn’t sure. But this cavity, this former breathing, feeling human being was reaching out. He wanted to possibly confess, maybe find a way to make up for past sins. And that was ridiculous. The past was the past. There was no way to make up for your sins. Oh, society had imprisonment, fines and the death penalty. Religions offered forgiveness; some of them promised absolution for a price, but none of them quite made up for the transgressions of a person’s past. Your sins were imprinted in time.

  A mugger put fear in his victims that followed them their whole lives. A rapist destroyed the confidence and trust of his prey. Killers who were put to death never brought back those they had killed. There was no atonement. Whatever evil a person had been responsible for … it was irreversible. The damage had been done. You could ask for forgiveness, do good works, even ask a higher deity to absolve your sin, but what happened in the past was cast in stone. When you were born, there should be a warning sign.

  Whatever you do, whatever you are responsible for, will last through eternity. Get it right the first time, for there are no second chances.

  Solange shivered. Her body shook, a cold spell chilling her spine. The empty carcass was again talking to her. She prayed daily that she could be delivered of these signs, these intense feelings. But she knew in the next moment that Johnny Leroy had been responsible for a death. Directly, indirectly, he’d helped kill someone. An innocent. The revelation was a shock. This was an officer of the law and she certainly never expected to accuse him of a crime, a crime as hideous as murder. Yet there it was.

  And that could be what he desperately longed to escape. But that escape would never happen. If you killed someone, there was no escape. You just prayed that you never met up with that person in hell.

  Walking out into the lobby of the building, she nodded to Archer, not sure what to tell him, not sure how to interpret her impressions. All she
was sure of was that the forgiveness, the money and the reflection were subjects that had to be addressed. To accuse the dead officer of murder … she’d ponder that for a while.

  ‘So,’ he asked. ‘Any revelations?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What? What did you learn?’ He was genuinely enthused. The detective seemed to be taking her visit somewhat seriously.

  ‘Your officer Johnny Leroy, he is asking for forgiveness. That is the first impression I had. It’s obvious, at least to me, that he’s been involved in some bad situations. He wants someone, a person, a deity, maybe the police department to give him absolution.’

  ‘But you have no idea what he did.’

  ‘It involved a lot of money. I am assuming, only assuming, that it was ill gotten. I don’t know that for a fact.’ And yes, she did know what he’d done, what he’d been involved in. But no, she wasn’t going to mention it to Archer. Not yet.

  ‘So far, there’s nothing I can use. You understand that.’

  ‘No, I personally think you can use all of my information. Figure it out. But there’s one more thing you need to know. Officer Leroy was involved in a reflection.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Before you ask me questions, can I please explain? I seldom am able to give you solid information. You know that. I can’t point to his killer. I can say the reason he was killed may have been money, possibly ill-gotten gains. And a factor in his death may have been a reflection. You have the ability and resources to delve into his past. If you find his need for forgiveness, a trail of money or anything to do with reflection, then I feel strongly that will lead to the reason he was killed. And as I’ve heard you say, when you can answer the question why, then you are close to solving the crime.’

  ‘We’ve been looking into his records, checking on people he arrested. We’re trying to narrow that search down, but twenty-five years on the street—’

  ‘And that may very well be where these three observations are hiding, in the arrests he made, but are you running any background checks on the officer himself?’ she asked.