“I think I’m supposed to take umbrage to that,” Mike Radar said. “We’ve been pretty damn busy since you got here, Decker.”
“Yeah, I’m just bad news.”
“We’ll show it to the chief when he gets here,” Tran said. “He’s been around for a long time.”
Lennie Baccus broke in. “Can I see it?”
Tran handed it to her.
As she studied it, the team waited for her to speak. She closed her eyes, then opened them and looked at the face again. Finally, she said, “There’s something familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“Those two guys who came into your apartment complex,” Radar said. “Could it be you’re remembering one of them as loitering around your building?”
“It would have to be at a subconscious level, sir.” She shrugged. “I don’t remember anyone just hanging around the apartment.”
Decker said, “Maybe if he was once a Hamilton officer, you’re remembering a younger version from your childhood.”
“Again, I can’t answer that because I don’t know why he looks familiar.”
“Forensic artists are able to age people; maybe we can go in the other direction,” Decker said. “Melanie, is there a way for you to draw this face as a younger man?”
A hesitation. “Not my forte, honestly.”
Aileen said, “Can I describe the other face, so I can get home?”
“Of course, Mrs. Jackson,” Radar said. “You’ve been an enormous help. Let’s move this along, please.”
Within an hour, Aileen Jackson had given them a pretty decent sketch of the two men she saw in the hospital room. After she was excused, Decker said, “Do these men look familiar to anyone?”
Head shakes all around. A moment later, Victor Baccus blew through the door. His dress was immaculate, but his face was flushed. He seemed winded. Lennie regarded her father. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be fine?” Baccus was annoyed. “Just in a hurry. What’s going on?”
“We have a composite of the two men who represented themselves as Hamilton police officers.” Decker handed him the sketches. “Do they look familiar?”
A quick glance. “No one working for the department now, that’s for certain.”
“I figured that,” Decker said. “They’re older men, sir. Maybe they were on the force when you were younger? Take another look.”
“I don’t need another look, Detective. I don’t recognize them.”
“Thank you, sir,” Decker said. “We should circulate the sketches. Put up posters in the community, because these two represented themselves as cops. That’s a crime.”
Baccus said, “We’re showing them our hand if we do that.”
“The community should know, don’t you think?”
“I suppose you’re right. But give me a day or two. I’d like to post the sketches to other agencies online and through police bulletin boards. Ask them to contact me if they have any idea who these two clowns are. Then we talk to the community. Can I keep these, Mike?”
“Let me make copies and I’ll give you the originals.” Radar left with the sketches and came back a minute later. “Here you go.”
Baccus stowed them in a briefcase. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. I’ll have one of my tech guys post it first thing tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Victor. And thank you for your cooperation.”
“More than I can say for your people . . . dragging my daughter into your problems.” The room went silent. “I’m not being fair. She dragged herself in all by her lonesome. I didn’t want her involved in a messy homicide. Maybe if I hadn’t pulled her off, she wouldn’t be in this fiasco. My bad. But now she’s on suspension. She’s no good to either of us.”
“Sir, I’m in the room,” Lennie said. “I’ll participate in whatever you need.”
“I need you to be safe so I don’t have to waste my time babysitting you,” Baccus said.
Lennie turned red. Decker stepped up. “I’ll take her back. That way I can watch her.”
“She’s still part of Hamilton PD. You’ll do no such thing. Anything else? I need to get home to my wife. She hasn’t been doing well lately.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Radar said.
“That’s MS,” Lennie said. “Like hope, it waxes and wanes.”
“For the last six months it’s been doing way more waxing than waning.” Baccus stood up. “We’ll talk tomorrow, Mike.”
“Sounds good.” After he left, Radar said to the gang, “Let’s break it up and get back to work.” He turned to Tran. “Thanks for coming down. Can you act as a liaison between us and Hamilton? It would be easier than contacting the chief every time I have a question.”
“No problem.”
“Thanks.” To Decker, Radar said, “A word in my office, Pete?”
Decker raised a brow. That didn’t sound good.
As soon as they were alone the captain barked. “Why are you baiting him? ‘I’ll take Lennie back.’ It makes my life harder, and in return, I make your life harder.”
“For the record, none of us dragged Lennie into her current situation. Even if she messed up a little, someone should stick up for her.”
“Be a knight in shining armor to someone else, okay? Stop making my life so difficult.”
“Why did he put her on my team in the first place?”
“Fuck if I know. Maybe she was bugging him to do real homicide and he wanted her out of his hair. Maybe if she was going to make mistakes, he wanted her to do it in someone else’s department.”
“Then why yank her? I wasn’t complaining. And don’t tell me it was because he was worried about her safety. As it happens, she’s in more danger now.”
Radar stared at him. “What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying that maybe—just maybe—Baccus wanted to know what was going on with Brady Neil and put her with us to get information on our investigation. When she wasn’t forthcoming, he pulled her.”
“He didn’t need her for information; he could have asked me.”
“C’mon. There’s always chatter between detectives that you might not be aware of.”
“Just back off Hamilton, okay? Stop asking the detectives for favors.”
“I want to see the Flint files. If Tran can’t get hold of them, can you ask Baccus for them for me? Aren’t we supposedly all friends.”
“No dice unless you can show me a connection from the Flints to Brady Neil’s murder.”
“The woman in the hidden photos at the Boch house is probably Margo Flint, and Brady Neil was probably murdered in the Boch house. There’s your connection.”
“Too tenuous.”
“Ah, c’mon!”
“Get me a positive ID that the woman in the photos is Margot Flint and I’ll go back to Baccus.”
“Okay. Then I’ll show the black and whites to Yvonne Apple and Gregg Levine. They were family friends. They could tell me yes or no.”
“Let Tran show the sketches to Yvonne and Gregg. He’s in Hamilton, and Gregg and Yvonne live in Hamilton. And before you accuse me of stonewalling, you said yourself that Gregg isn’t answering your calls. And we know Yvonne is pissed at you. Am I right?” When Decker didn’t answer, Radar said, “There is no conspiracy, Pete.”
“I’m not saying there is.”
“From everything I know about the Levine murders, it appears that the right people are in prison. I don’t know if those black and whites are significant, but until we definitely know who the people in the pictures are, they are insignificant to you. Just concentrate on Brady Neil.”
“How about this, Mike? The two guys who were in the hospital are probably the same ones who dumped Brady’s body and who broke into Lennie’s apartment. I can’t separate one from the other. How can I solve a case if I keep hitting roadblocks?”
This time it was Radar who didn’t answer.
Decker threw up his hands. “Okay, Captain. What do you want me to do?�
��
Radar blew out air. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you the Flint files. But you let Hamilton handle Yvonne and Gregg. In the meantime, don’t you have people you need to talk to regarding Brady Neil?”
“Yes, I do have some names.”
“Follow them up, and let Hamilton handle its own people.”
“Mike, do you believe that Baccus doesn’t know who the guys are?”
“Why should I not believe him? Answer that question and I’ll answer yours.”
Decker didn’t push it. He had plans to visit Jack Newsome that weekend. Maybe he’d get some help there. “What about Lennie Baccus? I’m concerned for her safety.”
“Her father is as well. Let him handle it. Or don’t you trust him with his own daughter?”
“I’m not sure if I do or don’t.”
“Well, Decker, you’re entitled to your thoughts, but stay out of it. If you don’t like it, too damn bad. Starting now, you work with Tran instead of cajoling him to do your bidding.” Radar turned and went back into the bowels of the station house.
Decker had no choice but to follow. Chin up, chest out, grin and bear it. If you don’t like taking orders, you shouldn’t have joined the club.
Chapter 25
He slept in fits and starts—a restless night—waking up before dawn. Tiptoeing out, he went into the kitchen and started the coffee. As quiet as he was, it didn’t help. Rina, even on good nights, slept like a shark with one eye always open, and within minutes, she was padding around in the kitchen. Decker attempted a weak smile.
“As long as you’re up, I might as well shower and get dressed.”
She pointed to a breakfast room chair. “Sit.”
He sat.
Then she sat. “I didn’t probe last night because it wasn’t the time. I decided to wait you out. But that strategy doesn’t seem to be helping. I know it takes something big to ruin your sleep.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Rina took in a deep breath and let it out. “Look, if Baccus isn’t hiding anything, it makes sense that he doesn’t want you running the show. If he is hiding something, he doesn’t want you nosing around. Guilty or innocent, it’s his territory. And you’d be exactly the same way.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Forget about Hamilton. Forget about the Levines and the Flints. Forget about interviewing Gregg Levine. That’s probably not going to happen anytime soon. You know that, right?”
“Right.”
Rina got up to get the coffee. “With those limitations in mind, what’s your approach going to be?”
“I have a few options.”
“Talk to me.” She thumped a coffee mug in front of him.
“Today I thought I’d check out the guy at Bigstore—Carter Bonfellow.”
“Ah, C is for Carter.”
“C is also for correct.” When Rina smiled, so did he. “I was planning on going yesterday, but then all this business with Jaylene and her cop visitors came up.” Decker made quotation marks.
“It’s better that it all happened yesterday. If these two guys in the sketches were after Boch and Neil, they might have shown up at Bigstore looking for them. Now you can show the drawings to Carter Bonfellow. See what he has to say.”
“Yeah.” Decker took a sip of coffee. “Yeah, you’re right. I never thought about it that way. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. And while you’re at it, you’ll show the sketches around the entire store. You’ll want as much input as possible.”
“Of course. I’ll be there anyway.”
“Ergo, you’re in better shape today to interview people than you were yesterday.”
“Absolutely.”
“You have every right to investigate Bigstore because Brady Neil worked there.”
“So did Joseph Boch. Hamilton also has a right to be there.”
“Yes, but the place opens at seven. Do you think that Wendell Tran or Randy Smitz will be at Bigstore when someone in a blue, orange, and white apron unlocks the doors?”
Decker chuckled. “No.”
“Exactly.” Rina took a swig of coffee. “Right now, those two are busy trying to find out the identities of those fake-o cops. And if they aren’t fake-o cops, they’ll be busy trying to figure out who they actually are and what they’re up to. In the meantime, you get yourself a jump start with the sketches.”
“Baccus didn’t want the faces shown around the community. Not that it’ll stop me, but it might piss Radar off.”
“Oh please. Bigstore is not the community. It is the workplace of your murder victim.” She shrugged. “Call Radar after you’re done with your business there if you’re concerned.”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Rina looked at her watch. “You have an hour—enough time to get ready and finish your coffee. Would you like a refill?”
“Sure.”
Rina filled up his cup. “Are you going to call up McAdams to come with you?”
“No need to wake him up this early. This is a one-man job.” A pause. “Thank you. Within five minutes, you’ve clarified everything. If I need any kind of a partner, it should be you.”
“I’ll come.”
“No, no, no. That was meant as a compliment, not a serious offer. I still have safety concerns.”
“I understand. And when you don’t sleep well, neither do I. I’m actually a little tired.”
“Go back to bed. I’m sorry I was so restless. I should have just woken you up and we could have had this conversation, and then we both could have gotten some sleep last night.”
“You weren’t ready to have this conversation then. Talking is like comedy. It’s all about timing. In the morning everything seems so much more . . . hopeful. There’s something new and fresh about the day.”
“And a good cup of coffee doesn’t hurt, either.” Decker got up. “Thank you, Rina. I’m feeling much better. I owe you one. Just add this to the other things that I owe you for.”
“You’re in deep hock, you know that.”
“Yeah, but that’ll equalize soon.”
“How do you figure that?”
“We’re going to Florida, where I’ve agreed to visit with our mothers.”
“You have to go there anyway to meet with Newsome. Is that so terrible, to be a good son and son-in-law?”
“Not at all, but you have to admit that I went along with your idea with a smile on my face.”
“When do I beatify you, Saint Peter?”
“Don’t bother.” Decker stuck out his arms from his shoulders. “It’s not worth the holes in my palms, and I don’t like hanging upside down.”
The sketches sat under plastic sleeves to prevent them from being smudged. The surface was also good for fingerprints if he wanted to go in that direction. Feeling revitalized—showered, shaved, and clad in his usual suit and tie—Decker pulled up into the near-empty lot of Bigstore. The store was located in a gigantic outdoor shopping arena that held the big-box chains as well as a couple of grocery stores, restaurants, small cafés, specialty stores, and two gas stations. It was built at a time when optimism was a bottomless pit. As he parked, he noticed that several of the huge retail spaces had been shuttered, with For Rent signs hanging in the windows. The internet had changed habits, and cruising the aisles with a basket had turned into surfing the web with an icon cart.
In the summertime, the parking lot was often occupied by RVs and campers, people visiting the lushness of New England. A yearly membership fee to the Bigstore chain provided travelers with electrical hook-ups in the lot as well as free showers and discounts at the store. Decker noticed people, waiting with their towels, for the doors to open. He parked and finished the rest of his coffee. He had two minutes to go until opening time when he stepped out of the car. As he walked up to the entrance, he stopped cold.
It seemed that others had the same idea as Rina. “What are you doing here?”
Lennie Baccus was dressed in a long
-sleeved white cotton shirt and jeans with espadrilles on her feet. She was holding the sketches in her hand. Her face was as deep red as her fingernails. She looked like an American flag. “I’m on my own time. I can do what I want.”
“Not if you’re representing yourself as a police officer.”
“I am a police officer,” she snapped back. “But even if I wasn’t, I can show drawings to whoever I want.”
“First of all, those sketches are police business. Second, you heard your father. He didn’t want this out in the community just yet.”
“And here you are doing the same thing.”
“I’m a police officer, and this is relevant to my murder case. Furthermore, I’m not under his command.” When Lennie didn’t answer, he said, “You should go home. You’re on suspension.”
“I know. I’m totally hamstrung, but it’s not going to stop me. Let him fire me.”
“If this gets out, he’s likely to do just that.”
“How will this get out? You’re not going to say anything to him. You’re already suspicious of him.”
Decker said, “That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not. I would be suspicious, if I were you,” Lennie said. “I’m suspicious, and I’m his daughter. I love my dad, but he never had much use for me, and he never had any faith in me.”
“That’s too bad, because you have potential,” Decker said.
“Thanks.”
Silence settled between them as a young person in an orange, white, and blue apron unlocked the door. Moments later, people started filing in.
Lennie said, “Look, Detective Decker. These two guys showed up at my apartment building and broke into my space. They violated my privacy and scared the crap out of me. I have every right to find out who they are. And if I help the police—Greenbury or Hamilton—I’m also fine with that. But it’s secondary. I’m looking after my own safety.”
“I don’t know if showing the sketches around will help your well-being.”
“Maybe not. But a gal’s gotta do what a gal’s gotta do.”
“You’ve certainly grown a set in the last week.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Time’s a-wasting, Detective. I still have to show up at a desk by nine. If I’m a minute late, people will notice.”
Walking Shadows Page 21
