In the morning, the killer dressed in a light hoodie and shades. He hadn’t shaved since yesterday. Not much of a disguise, but it should suffice. He rented a car, drove to the Bronx, and cruised Washington Heights until he saw a kid who fit what he needed. About twelve-years old, black, street smart or he wouldn’t be hanging out in this area. The killer pulled to the curb and rolled down the window. The kid approached, eyes darting left and right, assessing the situation. He leaned on the car door, head poked barely inside.
“S’up, dude?”
“Looking for someone to do a job.”
“I ain’t no fag, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”
“Nothing like that. I need someone to deliver a message.”
“A message? Don’t try yankin’ my dick.”
The killer laid four, hundred-dollar bills on the seat. “Two of these are for you. Here’s what I want you to do…”
Thirty minutes later, he dropped the kid off a block from Debbie’s building.
The kid waited until no one was around then approached the doorman. “Hey, mister.”
“What?”
“Dude, I’m in trouble. I broke a window.”
“What window?”
“Out back. It was an accident. I didn’t mean it.”
“Shit! What’s your name?”
“I can’t be gettin’ the cops involved or nothin’. My mom will kill me.”
“You shouldn’t have broken the window. What’s your name?”
The kid reached into his pocket and pulled out two crumpled hundred-dollar bills. “I got two bills that say I never broke that window. Know what I mean? Just get it fixed. You can do it, right?”
“Two hundred? They won’t even look at it for that.”
“Don’t yank my dick. You think I’m stupid? You can call insurance and put those bills in your fuckin’ pocket.” The kid turned his pants pockets inside out. “That’s all I got.”
The doorman looked at him.
“Look,” the kid said, “you don’t tell nobody I broke the window, and I don’t tell nobody you got two bills. Deal?”
“Where’d you get the money?”
“Don’t see how that matters.”
“Get the hell out of here,” the doorman said.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” the kid said, and headed down the street.
The killer waited for the kid to get out of sight, and picked him up on the next block. They drove back to the Bronx in silence. When it was time to leave he handed the kid the other two hundred. “Keep your mouth shut about this.”
“Ain’t got nothin’ to worry about with me, dude. You break any more windows, you know where to find me.”
The killer drove away with a smile on his face. The doorman would pocket the money, fix the window and no one would ever know about it. And the bedroom window would stay unlocked until he needed it.
Can’t wait to see you, Ms. Parnell.
CHAPTER 14
A Few Questions
Frankie drove into work happy. He’d had a good night with Kate, and he felt good about the case. He didn’t know why, but he felt good.
He took the steps to his office two at a time. “Hey, Mazzetti.”
Lou was smoking. “Coffee’s on.”
“Don’t let Morreau catch you smoking in here.”
“What’s he gonna do, force me to retire?”
“You going with Miller today?”
Lou looked at Frankie, squinting through tired eyes. “I thought you were hanging with Miller.”
“I’ve got to take Alex to register at a new school; besides, you’ll do better teaching her.”
Lou dropped his cigarette butt on the floor and crushed it out. “Does that mean Kate doesn’t want you working with Miller?”
“Shut up, Mazzetti.”
“I figured you’d get the hots for her.”
“Yeah, well it’s not going to happen.”
Sherri came into the office. “What’s not going to happen?”
“You getting shot,” Lou said. “Frankie swore he’d step in front of you next time and take the bullet himself.”
“I hear that.” Sherri poured coffee and sat next to Lou. “Are we going to Sandy’s workplace?”
“You and Lou are,” Frankie said. “I have things to do.”
“Are you ready?” Lou asked.
“As soon as I finish this coffee,” Miller said. “And by the way, Mazzetti, I’m driving.”
***
As Lou and Sherri entered the building, he checked his notes. “Fifth floor. Perkins and Mischa.”
“Lawyers?”
“Insurance.”
Lou flashed his badge to the receptionist. “Detective Mazzetti. This is Detective Miller. We’re here to talk to Mr. Ramos.”
The receptionist lost her smile and nodded. “He’s expecting you. I’ll let him know you’re here. Do you want some coffee or tea?”
“Not now,” Lou said.
A few minutes later a man walked toward Lou, his hand extended and a somber look on his face. “John Ramos.”
“I’m Detective Mazzetti, and this is Detective Miller.”
“I have a conference room we can use.”
“That will be fine,” Sherri said, and followed Ramos down the hall.
“What can you tell us about Ms. Krenshaw?”
Ramos grabbed a bottle of water, offered some to the detectives, then sat. “She has worked for me about four years. In fact she’s one…she was one of my best employees. She was never late, seldom missed work, and always got projects done on time.”
“Did you know she was having an affair?” Sherri asked.
The question seemed to catch Ramos off guard. “An affair? I…no, I didn’t. But I knew very little about her personal life.”
Sherri leaned forward and smiled. “So you and she…you didn’t…”
Ramos blushed. “Me? No. I’m happily married.”
“Was she seeing anyone from work?”
Ramos seemed to give it thought. “I really can’t say. You should talk to Izzy Warner. She and Sandy were close.”
“Anything you can think of, anyone who…”
Ramos shook his head. “I wish I could help, but other than her work, I knew nothing about her. Izzy might. Ask her.”
“Okay, Mr. Ramos. If you don’t mind, could you ask Ms. Warner to come see us? If we have more questions for you, we’ll call.” Sherri handed him a card. “And if you think of anything, here’s my number.”
Izzy walked in ten minutes later, introduced herself and sat next to Sherri. “I can’t believe what happened to Sandy. None of us can.”
“How well did you know her?” Lou asked.
“We were good friends. We ate lunch together almost every day, told each other our problems. We shared dreams. That kind of thing.”
“What kind of problems did she have?”
Izzy shrugged. “You know, the usual.”
“Why don’t you tell me,” Sherri said.
“You know…self-esteem problems. Money problems.”
“Husband problems?” Lou asked.
Izzy squinted her eyes. “Those, too. So what? Lots of people have trouble with their marriages.”
“Not all of them have affairs to solve them,” Lou said.
Izzy turned on Lou. “You say that like she was a whore. She had a damn affair. Big deal.”
“This one got her killed,” Sherri said. “It was a big deal.”
Izzy stood. “Are we done?”
Lou stared, making sure she knew he was serious. “Ms. Warner, I know you think we’re tainting your friend’s name, but we’re not. She was found dead with a man who wasn’t her husband. People will know. We’re trying to find out who killed them. I would think you’d want the same thing.”
Izzy glanced around, as if to make sure no one was nearby. Then she focused her attention back on Lou before sitting. “Sandy had been seeing this guy for a while. Maybe three or f
our months.”
Lou wrote down what she said. “Why did she get a disposable phone last week?”
“She didn’t.”
“We found one with her purse. And there were several calls to another man. Was she seeing someone besides Justin?”
“No. She wasn’t like that.”
“So you don’t know anyone named Chad?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never heard of him. And Sandy would have told me.”
“Maybe she—”
“She’d have told me.”
Sherri handed her a card. “If you think of anything…”
Izzy nodded. “I’ll call if I do.”
Lou lit a cigarette as he got into Sherri’s car. “That was a waste of time.”
“Toss the butt, Mazzetti.”
He flipped it out the window. “It’s getting to be where you can have sex more places than you can have a smoke.”
“Don’t you wish you could still do it?” Sherri waited a second, then said. “I mean the sex part.”
“Go to hell, Miller.” Lou pulled another cigarette from the pack and put it in his mouth without lighting it. “I don’t think Izzy was lying. What about you?”
“I’m with you, but a lot of people think their friends would tell them everything, right up until the time they find out they didn’t.”
“I hear that,” Lou said.
“So what made Sandy get the throwaway last week? What changed?”
“Let’s talk it over at the station. The reports should be in.”
Frankie was back at the station when Lou and Sherri arrived.
“Did you get Alex taken care of?” Sherri asked him.
“Not yet, but pretty soon, he’ll be safely tucked into a new school.”
“Which one?”
“St. Edwards.”
Lou whistled. “Did you start taking money from your dago friends again?”
Sherri laughed, but she stared hard at Frankie, waiting for an answer.
“I told them I needed tuition money,” Frankie said. “It won’t cost much more than a few favors.”
The look on Miller’s face made Frankie speak up. “We’re not serious, Miller. Now let’s get to work.”
Sherri shook her head. “If CPS wants to find him all they have to do is search the schools for his name.”
“He’s registered under my name.”
“Oh shit,” Lou said.
Change was jiggling in Frankie’s pocket. He did that when he got excited. Or nervous. “He’ll be fine.”
Carol walked in with a folder. “I updated the file with the new reports. You should have enough to stay busy.”
“Thanks, Carol.” Frankie opened the folder. “We have Justin’s prints on his phone and Sandy’s prints on both of the others.”
“Who did she call?” Lou asked.
“On her main phone, she called her husband, work…” Frankie popped his head out the door. “Hey, Carol who does this Jersey number belong to on Krenshaw’s phone?”
“Her sister. I thought I put it on there.”
“That’s all right. Thanks.”
Frankie got back to the report. “Her husband, work, sister, pizza delivery, dry cleaners, gynecologist…that’s about it.”
“What about the burner?” Sherri asked.
“Strange. Just one number—that Chad guy. And it has calls from him, but that’s it. No one else.”
“So where did she call Justin from?” Lou asked. “And why call Chad from a separate phone?”
“Good question,” Frankie said, making a note in the file.
Sherri said. “And she lived on Long Island and Justin was in the Bronx. How did they meet? They didn’t work together.”
“Get with that friend at work. See if she knows,” Frankie said. He continued going through the file. “No semen. So the son of a bitch got to them before the act.”
Sherri leaned over Frankie’s shoulder, looking at the file. “Let’s listen to Chad’s voicemails again. He seems to be the key.”
“Most of them were hang-ups,” Frankie said. “Number four is where it gets interesting.”
‘You better stop calling me. Do you hear? Stop calling.’
“Sounds like he was getting pissed,” Lou said.
“But that’s nothing like the last one. Listen.”
‘I’m telling you for the last time. Stop fucking calling me. You got that? Don’t ever call me again.’
Lou whistled. “I’d say we better pay Chad a visit.”
“Carol, can you find out where Chad Benning works? Please?”
Carol came in a few minutes later wearing a big smile.
Lou glanced at her. “You look like you just saw that rookie patrolman naked. What’s up?”
“Guess where Mr. Benning works.”
“I give up,” Lou said.
“Anderson, Bergen and Silverstein.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“Not the name, Mazzetti, but that firm is in the same building where Sandy Krenshaw worked.”
“Son of a bitch!”
“Ain’t that right,” Carol said.
Frankie got up from the table. “Let’s go. You’re driving, Miller.”
“Seventeenth floor,” Carol said as they started down the steps. “And if that rookie is naked, Mazzetti, send him up.”
Lou laughed the rest of the way down the steps. “Crazy bitch.”
The receptionist at Anderson, Bergen and Silverstein was as stiff as the name implied. “May I help you?” she said, with a tone that implied she didn’t want to.
Frankie showed his badge. “Detective Donovan. I’m here to see Mr. Benning.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“No.”
“I’m afraid—”
“He’ll want to see us,” Frankie said.
Chad Benning came out within five minutes. He was six feet two inches of charm, and had a smile that stretched across the room. As he approached, his hand shot out like the arm of a slot machine.
“Chad Benning. What can I do for you?”
“Perhaps we should go somewhere private,” Sherri said.
He led them to a small conference room off the lobby. “What is this about?”
Frankie handed him a card. “Detective Frankie Donovan. These are Detectives Miller and Mazzetti. We’re here about Sandy Krenshaw.”
Chad got a strange look on his face. “Who?”
“Sandy Krenshaw.”
He cocked his head to one side, then back. “I don’t know any Sandy Krenshaw.”
Lou pulled out a picture of her, the one from the crime scene, and shoved it in Chad’s hand.
“Oh God!” He quickly handed the picture back to Lou. “She’s dead.”
“You want to tell us about it, Mr. Benning?” Frankie asked.
“Tell you about what? I’ve never seen that woman before.”
Frankie got up and walked behind Chad, then back in front again. “If you didn’t know her, why were you calling her?”
“Calling her? I never called her.”
“Where were you the night before last?”
“Home.”
“All night?”
“Yes. I brought work home, then read a book.”
“What book?”
“Does it matter, Detective? A book. A mystery. What difference does it make?”
“Just curious. I’m a reader too.”
“If you must know, it was a John Sandford book. One of his Prey novels.”
“Good books,” Frankie said, then nodded to Sherri, who placed a digital recorder on the table and pressed play.
‘You better stop calling me. Do you hear? Stop calling.’
“Is that your voice?” Frankie asked.
Benning looked puzzled. “I don’t know…it sounds like me, but…”
“But what?”
“I didn’t leave that message.”
Sherri pressed play again.
‘I’m telling yo
u for the last time. Stop fucking calling me. You got that? Don’t ever call me again.’
“How about this one? Did you leave that message?”
Lou leaned in close to Benning. “How do you explain your voice being on her cell phone if you don’t know her? That is you telling her not to call anymore.”
Frankie moved in closer, until his face was inches from Chad’s. “What happened? Was she wanting something more than a quick screw? Was she blackmailing you? Do you make good money, Mr. Benning?”
Benning stood. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“We’re not done asking questions,” Frankie said.
“Then wait until I call my lawyer.”
Sherri started to say something but Frankie grabbed her arm. “That’s all right. We’re leaving. But you may want to call that lawyer. We’ll be back.”
“We screwed that up,” Frankie said as he got in Sherri’s car. “My fault. I pushed too hard.”
Lou shrugged. “Sometimes it works. Other times…”
“Yeah, other times they cry ‘lawyer’ and shut their mouths.”
“He’s our guy. We’ll get him.”
Sherri hit the horn, cursed at a driver, and made a left turn. “We’ll need a lot more than what we have now. Especially once he lawyers up.”
Frankie punched the dash. “I want everything we can get on this guy. Lou, have Carol dig up financials. Have somebody interview coworkers. His neighbors, too. And take Sandy’s picture with you. I want to know if she’s ever been at his home or if anyone from work ever saw them together.”
Frankie looked at Sherri. “Go back and talk to Sandy’s friend at work. See if you can jog her memory about Mr. Benning.”
“I have his picture.”
“What?”
“I snapped one on my cell. I’ll show it to Izzy.”
Frankie smiled. “Put in an array of pics from the station. We don’t want anything to go wrong if she IDs him.”
***
Chad went to the elevators, got off on fifteen, and went straight to Debbie’s office. He was pissed but he put a smile on his face.
Murder Takes Patience Page 7
