Walking Shadows

by Faye Kellerman

  “Bring Lennie with me?”

  “Absolutely. Just find out Phil’s full name and get a watch on him.”

  “You want me to do it?”

  “No, you watch Lennie. Here’s what we’ll do. Since Kevin’s already at Bigstore, instead of me calling him to tell him to tail Yves Guerlin, I’ll call Kev and explain the situation about Phil.”

  “Let me get this straight, boss. You’re going to pull Kevin off CCTV to watch Phil G if he’s at Bigstore, correct?”

  “Yes, exactly. And if Phil G isn’t there, you find out where he is, if you can. I’ll tell Kevin to tail Yves Guerlin Senior. We were looking for a link between Brady, Boxer, and Unknown Man #1, who turned out to be Yves Guerlin. We’ve not only found our link, we’ve also found our leak.”

  There were two guestrooms in Ida Decker’s house. One had a queen bed with an unattached bathroom, and one had a double bed with the en suite bathroom. Rina chose the queen bed because they both spent more time sleeping than the occasional trip in the middle of the night. She was fluffing up pillows when Decker came in the room, towel and toothbrush in hand. She said, “Did you confirm your flight?”

  “Yes, I’ll be in Greenbury by two in the afternoon. I changed your ticket so you’ll be coming into Albany on Sunday instead of JFK. I should be able to pick you up.”

  “Just send a car, Peter.” She climbed into bed. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m really sorry about this.”

  “Honey, my mother loves you. But honestly, without you there, I can direct all my attention to her. And you’d be so antsy, wondering what’s going on with the case. You did the right thing. I know this isn’t a priority, but be sure to take the food out of the freezer, so it’ll have time to defrost before Shabbos starts.”

  “Tyler will be there first thing in the morning. He’s already planned the meals, and I believe he made dessert. I’ll be fine.” He slid under the sheets. “Thanks for being understanding.”

  “I’m fine. Are you going to get any sleep?”

  “Probably not. I’m still trying to organize everything in my head.”

  “What have you found out so far?”

  “Phil G is Philip Guerlin, and he hasn’t shown up for work for the last two days. Yves Guerlin, meanwhile, has gone AWOL since breaking into Lennie’s car. I’m concerned about her, I’m concerned about Jaylene Boch—”

  “You’ve got protection on her.”

  “I do, but Guerlin was a seasoned cop. And if his accomplice was also a former cop, they both know the ins and outs of security. Not to mention all the VIPs in Hamilton.”

  “Speaking of VIPs, if Guerlin retired only eight years ago, Baccus must have known him.”

  “Radar called him up. Baccus said of course he knows who Yves Guerlin is. He just didn’t recognize the sketch. Seems Yves Senior has gained a lot of weight in the last few years.”

  “Even so. He’s lying, don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely. It’s only been eight years. People’s faces don’t change that much.” Decker exhaled. “This is what puzzles me. Whenever I ask about how Baccus handled the Levine murders, they all said he did a good job.”

  “He has to be hiding something. Otherwise why lie?”

  “But what? Maybe he did do a good job on the Levine murders.”

  “That may be,” Rina said. “But now he’s chief of police. He’d not only want to protect his men, he’d also want to protect his reputation.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Decker sat up. “I don’t want to sound like one of those people, but it does sound like some kind of conspiracy of silence. Radar needs to talk to him. It’s a terrible thing to accuse a chief of wrongdoing. And we don’t know he did anything wrong. But something’s not kosher.”

  Rina smiled.

  Decker smiled back. “My mom looked happy at dinner, didn’t she?”

  “Very happy. It was a lovely evening all around.”

  “Thanks for cooking and cleaning everything up.”

  “You helped clean.”

  “Randy and I brought in a couple of plates. I know who really did all the work.”

  “Blossom pitched in. I like her, Peter. She’s very nice.”

  “She is, actually.” Decker chuckled. “Think my brother finally got it right?”

  “We’ll see. There’s no test like the test of time.” She kissed Decker’s lips. “You have to be up very early. Try to get a little sleep.”

  “At most, I’ll get four hours. It isn’t even worth it to go to bed.”

  “You want to get up and work this out on paper?”

  “I’d like to at least have a strategy.” A shrug. “I’ll sleep on the plane.”

  “Go get dressed and get out of here,” Rina said. “Just kiss me before you leave for the airport.”

  “Darlin’, I’ll kiss you any time you want.”

  Chapter 30

  At 2:26 p.m., as soon as Decker walked into the Greenbury station house, McAdams handed him a printout. “This guy is Denny Mayhew. He was with Hamilton Police for ten years but abruptly quit right after Gratz and Masterson were arrested. Mayhew was a semilocal boy, attending high school in the nearby town of Sawtooth.”

  Decker’s eyes were sweeping over the printout as McAdams was talking. “How’d you get a name?”

  “From Mike Radar, who got it from Victor Baccus. Once Newsome identified Guerlin, Radar went over to Hamilton and pressed Baccus on the other one. He said it was probably Mayhew because he and Guerlin had partnered together for a while. But he didn’t really know Denny because he wasn’t at his station. He also said Guerlin was unrecognizable from the officer he vaguely remembered. He said that Yves must have gained about a hundred pounds.”

  “Yeah, I heard that. It’s ridiculous. Was Mayhew partnered with Guerlin when the Levine murders took place?”

  “Baccus wasn’t sure—he was out of uniform by then and wasn’t working at Bitsby—but he said it was possible. He’ll go through the records and check it out. How much do we trust the chief?”

  “We don’t.”

  “My question to you is this: What do Guerlin and Mayhew have to do with the Levine murders? They certainly weren’t the first responders when Gregg Levine called 911. I know because I checked.”

  Decker looked up from the pages. “I don’t remember seeing their names anywhere in connection with the Levine murder files.”

  “Spot on, boss,” McAdams said. “I just reread the files that Lennie gave us. There’s not even an honorable mention. Then again, the files are heavily redacted.”

  Decker looked at the printout. “Cowards. Making us do all the work while they hang back in the shadows, watching our every move. At least they should have the balls to show their faces.”

  “Well, we got their names despite their best efforts to hide.”

  Decker exhaled. “Do we have any idea where Mayhew might be?”

  “He lives outside of Tucson, Arizona. According to his wife, he’s been on a camping trip for the last week.”

  “More like a hunting trip.” Decker stared at McAdams. “And Lennie Baccus is still on desk duty?”

  “About fifty feet from her father’s office.”

  “If Baccus suspected that the incident at Jaylene Boch’s house might bring out two ex-cops hunting for something, it could be why he pulled her off the case.”

  “Then why put her on in the first place?”

  “Yeah, that was strange. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he did want her to have some experience in Homicide. At that time, when we went to him to look at Hamilton police files, I was only interested in the punks that Neil might have associated with. We really didn’t suspect that Brady Neil’s death had anything to do with the Levine murders.”

  “You did. You started looking up the murders almost immediately.”

  “But not until after Jennifer Neil told me about Brady’s dad—after Baccus asked me to take Lennie on. Then the Boch slaughterhouse happened and he pulled her off
. Baccus probably knew the case was bigger than some juvenile punks gone awry. He was worried for her safety.” Decker thought a moment. “I asked Mike to set up an ‘informal’ talk with Baccus later today.”

  “When?”

  “Around five. You can come if Radar follows through.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “It’s a bit sticky, but it has to be done.”

  Kevin Butterfield walked into the room. The back of his shirt was wet, and he had beads of sweat on his forehead as well as his bald head. “It is hot out there.” Frustration was visible on his face. “I knocked on Phil Guerlin’s door at least six separate times and left multiple cards. I have canvassed every one of his neighbors. I have tried to talk to every known friend or acquaintance. I have visited every bar or restaurant that Phil is known to frequent. The man is officially a mole and he has gone deep.”

  Decker said, “Maybe our best bet is to wait for Mayhew to come back from his ‘camping trip.’ If he has a wife, he has to return home.”

  “I’ll contact the local police in Arizona,” McAdams said.

  “Before you do, Harvard, you might want in on this.” Butterfield turned to Decker. “You’ve got a visitor, Deck. Gregg Levine. Asked specifically for you.”

  “You’re kidding!” Decker was taken aback. “That guy has been actively avoiding me since Neil’s murder.” A pause. “Any idea what he wants?”

  “Nope, and he’s not volunteering any information. But like me, he’s visibly sweating. It could be the heat. But I suspect it’s because he has a story to tell.”

  It is important to keep in mind that twenty years ago, this man, now forty, lost his parents in the most brutal and violent of ways.

  Decker stored that thought in the back of his brain.

  Go slowly, go easy.

  Butterfield had seated Levine in one of the two interview rooms. He stood up when Decker and McAdams came in. He was thin and appeared small in stature although he was average height. He had a long face with a long nose and eyes that slanted downward at the corners, giving him a hound-dog look. His head was crowned with a receding hairline of curly locks. He wore a white-and-blue-checked shirt, dark blue linen pants, and loafers with no socks. He dabbed his forehead with a tissue.

  “Sit down, please,” Decker told him. “Would you like a drink of water? It’s hot outside.”

  “That would be nice.” A deep voice, courtesy of the pronounced Adam’s apple in his throat.

  “I’ll get it,” McAdams said. “Would you like some coffee, boss?”

  “Yes, thanks,” Decker answered.

  Levine said, “Could I have some coffee as well?”

  “Of course,” McAdams said. “How do you take it?”

  “Cream and sugar, if you have.”

  “We do have.” McAdams got up. “Be right back.”

  After he left, Levine managed a weak smile. “Sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”

  “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

  “And now I’m barging in on you.”

  “We’re the police,” Decker said. “We get people coming in at all hours.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not my police.”

  “Meaning Hamilton.” When Levine nodded, Decker said, “There’s a reason why you’re here and not there, then.” No response. “Why don’t you start at the beginning, Mr. Levine.”

  “I’m . . . not sure how much I should say because . . .” He looked down. “I don’t want to get myself in trouble.”

  Decker held out his hands. “You’re here because something’s on your mind. Something must be bothering you—”

  “Y’think?” A mirthless chuckle. “I’ve been living with this for twenty years. Not that I feel guilty, because . . . well . . . I don’t. And I wouldn’t be here except for what’s happening lately. Things are making me nervous.”

  McAdams came back with the coffees. He distributed the paper cups and sat down.

  Decker thanked him. “What’s making you nervous?”

  A small sip of coffee. “This is good.” Levine took another sip. “I was expecting swill.”

  “We have a pod coffeemaker mostly used by me,” McAdams said. “My financial contribution to our great team of law enforcement personnel.”

  Decker gave him a “cool it” glance. It was hard enough getting people to talk, let alone sidetracking a train of thought. On the other hand, maybe it calmed Levine down.

  “Yeah, it’s good coffee.” Silence.

  Decker pressed the restart button. “What’s making you jittery, Gregg? I can call you Gregg?”

  “Sure, whatever.”

  “Tell me why you’re here. What’s making you uncomfortable?”

  Levine let it out in a whoosh. “What happened at Jaylene Boch’s house.”

  “Okay.” Big admission. Give him time to catch his breath. “Why is that making you nervous?”

  “I’m not positive, but . . . I think she was there.”

  Decker tried to keep his expression bland. He glanced at a wide-eyed McAdams. “By there, Gregg, do you mean that Jaylene Boch was present when your parents were murdered?”

  Levine looked down. “It’s really stupid of me to talk without a lawyer. But I think my family and I need protection more than legal advice.”

  “Who’s threatening you, Gregg?”

  “They’re not exactly threats. More like reminders.” A pause. “You’ve got to realize that I was a twenty-year-old kid who had just walked into this nightmare.” Tears formed in his eyes. “I was shocked; I was beyond scared shitless. I just did what they told me to do.”

  “Who is they?”

  “As if you didn’t know.”

  “I don’t know, Gregg. Honestly. When your parents were cruelly cut down, I was with the Los Angeles Police Department working Homicide. I just found out about your parents when Brady Neil was murdered a couple of weeks ago. I’m hungry for information, which is why I was trying to get hold of you. Tell me who you’re talking about. Who told you what to do?”

  “I was trying to do the right thing.”

  “Of course you were. Who told you—”

  “The police.” Levine’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Ah.” Silence. Decker then said, “And what did the police tell you to do—specifically?”

  “They told me unless I said certain things about what happened, the killers would just walk away. I needed to say certain things to make sure they were caught!”

  Slow it down. Decker said, “Okay. I’m starting to understand.” A pause. “Do you remember the names of the officers you talked to?”

  “How could I forget if they keep reminding me that I perjured myself!” He wiped his eyes. “Yves Guerlin and Denny Mayhew. It was Guerlin who did most of the talking.”

  “Okay.” Keep it clear and understandable. “These two officers, Yves Guerlin and Denny Mayhew, they told you to perjure yourself on the witness stand?”

  “Worse, than . . .” He froze up. “Forget it.”

  “I’m here to help and protect you—”

  “Sure you are.” Levine rolled his eyes. “You’re one of them. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

  “You’re here because you’re scared. And that’s where I can help. Gregg, I had a sterling career for over thirty-five years. I’m not about to jeopardize my reputation for anyone, including the entire Hamilton Police Department.” A pause. “If you want help, I’ll certainly help you. But please help me. Start at the beginning. What happened, Gregg? Talk to me about that horrible night.”

  Levine didn’t talk for a few moments. Then he whispered, “I was supposed to come in to help my parents with inventory.” His voice grew stronger. “It’s a lousy job. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want anything to do with the shop back then. But after what happened with Mitch Flint—do you know about Mitch and Margot Flint?”

  “We do,” McAdams said.

  Levine turned to him as if he were just aware of his presence. His eyes
went back to Decker’s face. “Anyway, Dad didn’t trust anyone but family members after that. There were times that Dad was so stingy, I felt like ripping him off. I didn’t, in case you’re wondering.”

  “Running a high-end jewelry store is a big responsibility for anyone, let alone a college-aged young man,” Decker said. “I’m sure you had other things you wanted to do rather than help out your parents.”

  “Ain’t that the truth!” Levine looked into his coffee cup as if reading tea leaves. “At the time, Dad and I weren’t getting along. At all.” He looked up. “You know that the police were suspicious of me because I had said some things in the past and Dad had said some things and none of it amounted to shit. Just two angry people venting steam.”

  “I hear you.”

  “On top of everything else I was going through, they questioned me like I was a suspect, the bastards.”

  “Who questioned you?”

  “Victor Baccus. I hated that motherfucker back then.”

  “Back then?” Decker paused. “You don’t hate him anymore?”

  “No.” A small laugh. “Not at all. He’s like a father figure to me now.”

  “We know that you two play golf together,” McAdams said.

  “It’s more than that.” Levine was still holding the coffee cup. He put it down. “I couldn’t have survived without Victor. He stepped up to the plate, got the entire community behind us. I mean, we were five lost kids and I was the oldest.”

  “I get it.” Then why are you talking to me instead of Victor? Decker said, “Tell me about Guerlin and Mayhew. What kind of trouble are they causing you?”

  “Oh God,” Levine said. “I’ve got a wife. I have children. I don’t know if I can do this.”

  Decker said, “Gregg, I know you lied about something, otherwise why mention perjury? We’re halfway to the finish line. You can do this. Your father had asked you to come to the store to do inventory. Then what happened?”

  A big sigh. “Like I was saying, I didn’t want to be there. But Dad was furious with me for not helping out. I finally relented and told him I’d come in. But then a friend called me up and we wound up going to a party together. There was lots of alcohol—and other stuff. I knew that inventory taking usually lasted all night anyway. They wouldn’t miss me for a few hours.” A pause. “I got stoned, I got drunk.”