A Bullet for Carlos

by Giacomo Giammatteo

  The girl ran from the room, returning momentarily with a young doctor dressed in scrubs. As the doctor pulled her latex gloves off, a scowl crossed her face. “Are you the one who caused the ruckus?”

  “We’ve got a dog dying here. Shot, and bleeding bad.” I leaned so close I almost touched the mask dangling from her chin. “I don’t care what you’re doing back there. Unless your other patient is worse than this one, I need you to take care of this dog.”

  She tried to stare me down, but it didn’t work. Thirty years of growing up in New York, had its advantages. The doctor knelt next to Tip, gently moving his arm aside. “Let me see her, sir.”

  Tip moved his arm but kept the other wrapped around her. The vet remained silent as she checked Flash. After a few seconds she stood, calling to the assistant. “Get the room ready. And get a gurney out here to carry her back.” She started to address Tip, then, “And tell Dr. Marks to wrap up by himself. I’ll be busy.”

  She unwrapped Tip’s hand from Flash’s neck, whispering. “Let us take her now.”

  Tip was covered in blood, his eyes full of tears, and he was trembling. His voice cracked when he spoke. “You save her, you hear me, doctor. She’s all I got left.”

  ***

  Standing in the lobby of the Hobby Center, Jeff Maxwell grew more embarrassed by the minute. Between offering excuses to the countless people he saw as to why, and who, he was waiting for, he kept looking at his watch. Where the hell could she be?

  When they made the announcement for the five minute call, he panicked. Never had he been this humiliated. He kept telling himself that she might have gotten caught in traffic—but why wasn’t she answering her cell—and he even granted her the unbelievable possibility that she might have been in an accident. But the one answer that kept haunting him was that she was paying him back for him forgetting about their date on Tuesday.

  If that’s what this is about, I’ll…

  At 8:20 he stormed out the door. He threw the tip to valet parking on the street and hit the accelerator as if he were driving in Daytona. “Fucking whore,” he screamed as he made the turn to get on I-45 North. “I’ll kill her.”

  ***

  I helped Tip into a chair. “She’ll be okay.” I patted his back, got out a handkerchief and handed it to him. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure Flash is okay, then we’ll get whoever did this if it’s the last thing we do.”

  “He’s dead. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s dead.”

  “Who?” I hugged him and found myself crying. “Who did it?”

  “You know those drink stirrers, the Mexican flags they put in your drinks at Mexican restaurants? One of them was sticking in Kelly.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” I said, almost a whisper.

  Tip sat up straight, dried his eyes. “He’s dead. Even if I have to get him out of jail first.”

  I patted his back. “It’s okay. Just relax. Let’s worry about Flash.”

  Almost an hour and a half later the doctor came out, looking exhausted. She headed straight for Tip, who jumped out of his chair and ran toward her. “Is she okay?”

  “I think she’s going to be all right.”

  Tip hugged her then turned to hug me.

  “Sir,” the doctor interrupted. “She’s not out of the woods yet. There is still some risk, it’s just…” she must have seen the desperation in his eyes. “Well, maybe I’m being overly cautious, but…”

  “Looks good though?” Tip asked.

  She smiled. “Yes, it looks good. We’ll have to keep her tonight, maybe for a few days, but you can come by tomorrow and check on her.”

  He reached into his pocket, handed her a card. “You call me if something happens, no matter what time it is. And when you go off shift, tell whoever takes over the same thing. I don’t care what time.”

  She looked at the card then patted his arm. “We will, Detective. Now get some rest.”

  I grabbed him and led him outside. “Ride with me. We’ll pick your car up tomorrow.”

  It must have been the first time Tip noticed my dress, or the first time his mind let him focus. “What are you doing in that dress?”

  I looked down at the blood-stained mess that used to be my gorgeous dress. “You reminded me, I forgot to call Maxwell and by now he’s probably in the play.”

  “Forget Maxwell; he can wait for another night.”

  “He can wait forever,” I said, and pulled out of the parking lot. “Let’s go home and drown our sorrows.”

  “And figure out how to get Carlos.”

  I put on the blinker as I turned left. “Yeah, and that, too.”

  Chapter 56

  A Long Night

  I knew it was going to be a long night when I offered to stay at Tip’s house, but there was nothing else to do; the man was a mess. I’d never seen anyone who cared so much about their dogs. That said something about him. Something I liked. I realized that my gut instincts had been right; he was a big softie under all his bullshit.

  I pulled into the spot where he normally parked. On the way to the house, he bent down to pick up the groceries laying on the sidewalk. “I’ll get that later, Tip. Let’s go inside.”

  He avoided looking at Kelly and Kassie, still where they were when he found them. I put water on for coffee as Tip sat at the kitchen table.

  “Got to get them buried,” he said.

  “As soon as we have coffee, okay.” I looked at myself, and shook my head. “Don’t suppose you have anything in a size eight?”

  Tip gave a brief laugh. It wasn’t fake, he just didn’t have much in him. “Got some old work clothes that you could throw on. Use a tight belt and maybe some rope to hold them up.”

  “Anything will do. I’m not working a shovel in this dress.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Connie. I…”

  I hugged him. “Don’t say a word, just get me something to wear.”

  “Be right back.”

  His cell rang. I looked at the caller ID. “Tip, it’s Emily Miller calling.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said.

  “You want coffee or tea?” I asked.

  “Tea, with lots of sugar.”

  I got the cups ready then poured the water when it boiled. Tea for Tip and coffee for me. I’d need it tonight.

  Tip returned with clothes and set them on the back of a kitchen chair. “You can use either one of the showers.”

  “Might as well wait until we’re done,” I said. “No sense in doing it twice.” I sipped coffee, watched him staring at nothing. “I’m so sorry. I know how much the dogs meant to you.”

  “I hope Flash is okay.” He grabbed my hand and held it. “I can’t lose them all.”

  I let him talk for a while, then we went out to bury the dogs. It took nearly two hours to do it, Tip insisting on deep graves so the coyotes didn’t get to them. After we were done he placed a large stone marker on each one so he could remember the spot. When I thought we were through, he knelt and said a prayer by Kassie’s gravesite, then moved to Kelly’s.

  Some people believe that God doesn’t let animals in heaven, but Tip knew differently. God wouldn’t make something so loving and so perfect only to abandon them at the end. Tip bowed his head and spoke softly. “I know you’re up there, Kelly, and I know Kassie’s with you. You’re probably running through fields all day, and sneaking steaks from somebody’s table. That’s good. I’m happy for you. But if you get some extra time, I want you to find my mama and tell her I said hi.”

  He leaned down and kissed the rock, then whispered, “And tell her I’m gonna get the guy who killed her if it’s the last thing I do.”

  I took Tip by the arm and walked back to the house, holding back my tears. Once inside, Tip seemed like a changed man.

  “Connie, we got work to do. You can take me to get the car, or you can stay here and help.”

  “Might as well work,” I said.

  Tip went right to the charts, pulled out a fresh one and wrote across the
top, ‘Carlos Cortes.’

  “We know he’s going to get out,” Tip said. “We’ll never keep him with what we have.”

  “We’ll find a way to get him.”

  Tip looked at me with a hard-eyed stare. “You’re not following. I don’t want him back in. I’m not looking to convict him, I’m gonna kill him.”

  “Don’t say that in front of me. Don’t do it.”

  “You said it yourself. Are you backing out?”

  “You don’t even know if he did it. You—”

  He dropped the marker and came across the room at me, screaming. “Don’t know if he did it? There was a swizzle stick with a Mexican flag stuck to Kelly’s body. Who do you think did it, the waiter from El Tortuga?”

  “Still…”

  “Drop out if you want. Carlos is mine.”

  About midnight a call came in from Elena. He told her what happened, almost crying again as he related the story.

  I waited until he hung up. “She coming over?”

  “Yeah, she said she’d be here soon.”

  “That’s good. Tell you what, if it’s okay with you, I’ll go home.”

  “You don’t have to leave.”

  “I know I don’t have to, but I’d like to get in my own tub and my own bed.”

  “Of course. I wasn’t thinking.” He reached for me and hugged me tight. “Gianelli, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. Everything you did…”

  “Forget about it.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re special, girl.”

  “Thanks, Tip. See you.” As I started to leave, I said. “I’ll tell Renkin you won’t be in tomorrow.”

  “I might make it. Depends on Flash.”

  “Call me if you hear anything on her. Anything.”

  ***

  Tip woke to the sound of dishes clanging and the smell of fresh-brewed coffee. “What the hell. What time is it?”

  “Almost 8:30,” Mollie said. “You slept the whole night according to Elena.”

  He looked around. “Elena? Where is she?”

  “She’s in the other shower. Said you were asleep on the couch when she got here last night.” She told me what happened to the girls. “I’ll tell you what, Tip. You give me a gun and point me at the son-of-a-bitch who did this and I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything to anyone ever again. I’ll shoot that motherfucker like I shot my husband. Damn heathen.”

  Tip winced. He had never heard Mollie talk that way. “I just might do that, Mollie.”

  “This ain’t no idle threat. I owe you.” She plopped a plate on the table with scrambled eggs and toast. “Elena, breakfast is ready.”

  As Tip scooped up the food on his plate, Mollie watched him, nursing her own cup of coffee. “You know, Tip, I hate to bother you on a day like this, considering what happened last night and all, but I been thinking about how some people fall into a sort of stupor when something like this happens.”

  “I’m feeling better.”

  “Well, don’t mind me butting in, but we can’t afford to have you distracted. This killer needs catchin’ and quick, before he kills again. And he’s gonna do it soon. I know it sure as I’m standing here.”

  “I’ll be working at it.”

  “You better. Don’t want that son-of-a-bitch getting somebody else.”

  Chapter 57

  Hello Brownie

  I parked the car across from the station and got out in a hurry. I was already late and more than tired, a combination that made for a long day. I wondered how Flash was doing but didn’t want to call Tip this early in case he slept; besides, I felt sure he would call as soon as he heard something. “Hey, Bobby,” I said as I entered the building.

  ***

  From across the street Mr. Perfect watched her. He had been waiting a long time to get Brownie, ever since he saw her jogging that day in the park. Ever since she had ignored him as she ran by, as if she were superior, as if he didn’t count. He looked around, found no one watching so he rubbed himself. He’d show that bitch who counted. After tonight Brownie would know just who counted.

  ***

  I pushed hard all day, checking in with Tip no less than four times to get updates on Flash, then reporting the news to everyone at the precinct. About 2:15 the DA’s office called.

  “Detective Gianelli, this is Assistant District Attorney Karen Grimes.”

  I knew what was coming but played along. “Yes, Karen, what can I do for you?”

  “I hate to tell you this, Detective, because I know how hard you worked on it, but we had to let Carlos Cortes go. We didn’t have enough to hold him.”

  “You know he shouldn’t be on the streets,” I said, but was met with silence. “When did he get out?”

  “Early this morning. There was nothing we could do.”

  I waited, but then said what I knew she wanted to hear. “Not your fault, Karen. Thanks for calling.”

  “Keep working on it. We’ll get him.”

  I thought about calling Maxwell, but getting answers didn’t seem as crucial as it did earlier. As I walked the hall toward the desk, I passed Julie. “Hey, Julie, tell Renkin I went home early, okay? I’ve got stuff to do tonight.”

  “No problem, Connie. See you tomorrow. And tell Tip we’re all thinking about him.”

  “Yeah, see ya’.”

  On the way home the phone rang. “Gianelli.”

  “Connie, it’s Jeff.”

  Surprised, I didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Jeff, I’m sorry about last night.”

  “You missed a good show, but let’s not think about that. What are you doing tonight?”

  I could tell he was pissed. “I tried to call, but…my partner’s dogs got killed.”

  “What happened?”

  “Somebody killed them. I mean murdered them. I was dressed and ready to go when he called. I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much I could do.”

  “Don’t think twice. My God, how terrible. Listen don’t worry about tonight, we—”

  I probably answered too quick. “No, I’m fine. I could use a break, but I don’t have a dress to wear anymore, so it’ll have to be casual.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. What do you want to do?”

  “How about I pick you up about eight.”

  “Great, see you then.”

  ***

  Tip nursed his third cup of coffee for the day, and he stared at the files on his table for what must have been the fiftieth time. If the killer was hiding in these files he was hiding damn good. He lined the charts up next to each other in the order they were killed. Mason on the left, then Gardner, Green and Santiago.

  He stared again at the things in common: lips removed, beaten severely, raped, knew victim (or had another way in), no witnesses (except Santiago), all were young, all in good shape, all had brown hair, eye color different, all single. Lot of things in common, but the important things weren’t. They all worked at different places, two were rich, two poor. No one had shopped at same places or had nails or hair done in same places. Didn’t use same services or go to the same church. One of them even lived in New York.

  Tip laid it all out in front of him, staring at the evidence as if it would jump up and speak to him, but nothing happened. As he walked to the kitchen to get another beer the phone rang. “Denton.”

  “Tip, it’s Julie.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “That’s my question.” Her voice turned somber. “I heard about your dogs.”

  He didn’t answer for a minute, and for a minute he wished people would stop asking him about them. It would be easier to just forget. He fought the tears, but won this battle. “I’m okay. At least I’ve still got Flash.”

  “I’m glad she’s doing okay.”

  “So what did you call for?”

  “I almost forgot. Remember you had me doing all the research on Carlos Cortes?”

  “Yeah, you can forget that. He’s out on bail and we�
��ll probably have to drop the charges soon.”

  “Hold on, Tip. While I was doing research, I ran across Carlos this and Carlos that, especially related to charity things. Seems like he gives a lot of money to charity and such.”

  “Yeah, so…”

  “So, I’m looking through and I see where he sponsored a 5k charity run for cancer at Memorial Park.”

  At the mention of charity Tip immediately thought of Jeff Maxwell. “I’m listening.”

  “I pulled up the photos from the paper and standing with the winner of the run, posing like an eighth grader who just won a bike or something, is Carlos Cortes.”

  “Get to the point, Julie.”

  “I happen to notice in the picture that the person who came in third is none other than our Patti Green.”

  “Are you telling me you have a picture of Carlos with Patti Green?”

  “He knew her, Tip. Or at least he met her. He’s the one who presented the awards.”

  Tip pounded the counter. “Goddamn, you’re the best. Get me that file. Scan that photo and email it to me.”

  “I’ll do it right away.”

  Tip dialed Connie’s number, pacing until she answered.

  “Gianelli.”

  “Connie, it’s Tip.”

  “What’s up, any news?”

  “What, no, no, Flash is okay. This is about the case. You will not believe what Julie told me.”

  “Guess you better tell me then.”

  “Carlos Cortes knew Patti Green.”

  “How?”

  Tip related the story to her and when he was done there was silence. “You’re not thinking Carlos could have actually done this?”

  “All we’ve got to do is connect him to the other two, but if we can…” Tip paused. “I’m putting Julie on it now. Where are you? You coming over?”

  “I can’t. I told Maxwell I’d go out with him.”

  “You know he’s married, right?”

  “That’s low. You know that bothers me.”

  “You’re right, that was low. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Mr. Perfect parked a few blocks from Brownie’s apartment, in a remote spot underneath some shade trees. He jogged, keeping a close watch for nosy neighbors or cars going too slow. When he got to the address, he turned up the walk and found himself in front of her door in a few seconds. It didn’t take long to open the door, although he had to use his own methods. “Hello,” he called as he stepped inside, but he knew no one would answer.