Final Price

by J. Gregory Smith

  Shamus rolled a lemon off the table and it dropped onto the old linoleum floor. He stopped it with one bare foot and then crushed the fruit with his heel. Juicy. He closed his eyes and shuddered with satisfaction.

  The song built to its crescendo, and Shamus opened his eyes and dry-fired the pistol. “Best price! Best price!” The music covered his accented shouts. It was good to be alive.

  CHAPTER 34

  Naked Truth

  Chang’s house, Tuesday morning

  Chang neared the summit of a cold mountain. The wind picked up and blew stray thoughts from his mind. Just a few more feet…A bell reached his ears, and his fingers slipped. Try again…The bell repeated loud enough to shatter the mountain.

  And his meditation. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, uncrossed his legs, and heard himself groan when he stood up. The clock read five forty-five in the morning.

  The doorbell rang again. Nobody came by this early.

  Chang pulled on a robe and took the stairs two at a time. A loud crash of thunder played counterpoint to the insistent chime at the door. Rain drummed on the windows.

  He stared through the peephole and saw a fisheye view of Nancy Brand. Her hair looked wet, plastered to her face, and water rolled down the open collar of her soaked shirt. Her cool professional veneer had vanished. She checked her watch and rang the bell again. Chang fumbled for the deadbolt.

  “Detective,” she said. “I hope I didn’t…wake you.”

  It took him a moment to read between the lines. “I’m alone. I was working out.” The rain continued. “You must be freezing.” He took her hand and led her inside.

  “I’m going to drip all over your floor. This won’t take long…”

  “Never mind the floor. This way.” Chang walked up the stairs. He wasn’t sure she’d follow until he heard the squeak of her shoes on the polished floor.

  He led her into his bedroom and pointed to the bathroom. “The towels are fresh. I’ll get you something dry to wear.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” Her voice sounded so low, not clear and self-assured like in the meeting.

  Chang fished through his closet and picked out a cotton button-down shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Best he could do on short notice. Nancy was about the same size as Colleen, but her clothes were long gone.

  Chang spoke through the bathroom door. “Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Brand.”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s awkward. First names okay with you?”

  “Of course.”

  She opened the door a crack. “No peeking.”

  Chang handed the clothes through. Her fingers brushed his arm, and he resisted the urge to ignore her request.

  In the kitchen Chang handed Nancy a steaming cup of tea. Her damp hair started to curl. Her bare feet tapped under the table. He wished Colleen had left a pair of slippers. “Is this business or personal?”

  “I didn’t phone so there’d be no record. Officially, I’m not here. Mr. Cleary just called Spiker and tore into her over the paper this morning.”

  “I haven’t seen it yet.” Chang never let it clutter his mind before meditation. “Wait, Cleary knows the governor’s private number?”

  “All three of them. He’s got weight in this town, and she listens. She also just called Byrd and screamed at him. Cleary’s daughter is all over the news. Somebody leaked it, and your fearless leader threw you under the bus.”

  “Huh?”

  “Byrd told Spiker that you must be the leak. He wants to take you off the case.”

  Something didn’t add up. “How does Byrd spin me as the leaker? The killer talks to Flannigan himself.”

  “Turns out Flannigan got scooped. The article this morning isn’t his byline. Byrd ripped into Flannigan first thing, but the old guy not only denied it, but he’s angrier than Cleary.” Nancy gave a little smile.

  “So there’s a mystery source?” Chang began to get the picture.

  “Right, but Byrd is taking the opportunity to use it against you.”

  “So why hasn’t it happened? Byrd has my number. I should be fired now.” Delaware was a smaller state but wore the same political plumage.

  “Let’s just say someone else the governor trusts put in a good word for you. The governor is frantic to see this case solved.”

  “Byrd’s not?”

  “Sure. With his own lackeys. You don’t fit the profile, and it’s no secret he’s going to run against Spiker next year.”

  Ah, so. “How can I thank you for the honor of this information?”

  “Some honor. You have to get to Cleary and calm him down. He was talking lawsuit, and Byrd told him the homicide designation was premature.”

  “Anyone with eyes knows it was murder.”

  “Cleary is blinded by grief. Byrd’s using that.”

  “Okay, what do you need?”

  “Talk some sense into Cleary pronto, then slip him this phone number.”

  Chang took the card. “It sounds like I’m getting kicked out of my own house.”

  “I have to go too, but maybe when there’s more time I could return your clothes.”

  Chang stared at the Daily Post and waited for Nelson to pick up. He sounded sleepy.

  “We have a situation.”

  “Another murder?”

  “No, but it’s not good. You haven’t seen the paper this morning? Or listened to the radio?”

  “Can’t read in my sleep. I tried.”

  “We’re on damage control this morning. The news about Heather Cleary’s homicide, by the serial killer, is all over the place. Ben Cleary woke up the governor, after Byrd told him we leaked it.”

  “You talked to Byrd? He already knows I was there?”

  “Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. He wants to change the rules, we will too.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “A secret admirer. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go see Cleary. We have to convince him that his daughter was murdered.”

  “Who did leak?”

  “Not on the phone. It’s political now.”

  “I thought that’s why I left New York.”

  “The classics never die.”

  Chang reached Nelson’s in record time. Why weren’t these cases ever about the crime? He thought Delaware would be different. But this was the first difficult case, and once again he was an outsider. Fate didn’t recognize state lines…

  Daisy bayed when he knocked, and Nelson opened the door.

  “Do you have everything we pulled together last night?”

  “Filed on the dining room table.” Nelson slicked his hair down with a wet comb.

  Byrd hadn’t been the only busy one yesterday. Relatives of the Nguyens and Patel confirmed car purchases from Marlo Honda. Records showed the Hubberts and Midori bought there as well.

  Now they had Heather, different brand, but a new car. They needed some information from Cleary to find out how she fit in. After they got Mr. Cleary to stop screaming lawsuit.

  Chang filled in Nelson on the way. “So somebody exposes our case to the media, and Mr. Cleary wanders out about five this morning. He finds the early edition of the Daily Post in his driveway with a picture of his house on the front page and ‘Serial Killer Strikes Again?’ splashed across the top. He’s upset, and being a lawyer, he wants to lash out.”

  “Byrd tells him you’re to blame, and then Cleary hits up the governor?”

  “Correct. Byrd figures this is enough to yank me off the case and the governor will back him up.” Chang promised he’d worry about the colonel later. Right now he needed to focus.

  “Feels like old times,” Nelson said.

  They got to the Cleary house just before seven. They weren’t the first.

  CHAPTER 35

  Luck of the Irish

  “This is what you call support?” Patrick Flannigan raised his voice as loud as he dared without a spasm of coughs. He shuffled back and forth in his bathrobe and held the morning paper. Both hands shook with fury.

/>   “Pat, take it easy. It’s a fast-moving story. We get tips too, you know.” Yuri Krakow’s accent grated. Flannigan thought he played it up to sound “exotic” to the locals. Got him to editor-in-chief, didn’t it? He was Flannigan’s boss, but not for long if things worked out.

  “From the killer? You break this without me? I’m sorry, how much did you tell me our circulation was up?”

  “Forty-two percent. We’re all happy with your recent work. Do you want rose petals in your path? We’re in the news business, and this story’s bigger than just you.”

  Condescension from him?

  “Who tipped you? The killer?”

  “No, and never mind. We don’t ask you how you get your information. And haven’t we told the state police we’ll stand by you with our entire legal staff?”

  “You have. Considering that the source of this news calls me, don’t you think you might want my input?” The lawyers would defend him as long as he sold papers. Screw the cops. He didn’t know who the killer was, but it wasn’t his job to figure it out, either.

  “Calm down, Pat. Get in soon as you can. Of course we want you in on the follow-up stories.”

  With a little luck he wouldn’t have to put up with this much longer. He thanked Krakow and hung up.

  “And it’s Patrick, you fucking Bolshevik!” He slammed the dead receiver and doubled over in a coughing fit. The noise almost drowned out the chirp of his cell phone. Maybe it was his lawyer. About time, for what he cost. He didn’t trust the Daily Post’s legal buffoons for a minute.

  He caught his breath. “Flannigan.”

  “You need to make up the news now?” Muffled voice. The source himself.

  “You want my questions?” Flannigan scrambled for a pad. Guy never stayed on more than minute. Usually he told him where to pick up info and to hear Flannigan’s new questions.

  “Shut up. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull. That wasn’t me, but I’ll tell you who might be next.”

  Flannigan felt ice up his crooked spine.

  “I didn’t do that, believe me. I’m a straight shooter. Want to tell me your side?” He glanced at the kitchen clock.

  “Just did.”

  “Cops don’t think so. They say it’s you.” C’mon, open up. Give me something.

  “They’re too stupid. Someone gave them the idea. Next time you make the front page you’ll be the story!” The call dropped. Fifty-three seconds.

  Shit. He didn’t know if the killer would calm down, but his timing couldn’t be worse. Not when the Times showed interest in his work again. He was so close to a triumphant return to the city. Flannigan doubted the guy was serious about the threat. Besides, how could he ask for security when it would tip off that his pipeline to the killer was dry? Flannigan would show everyone he knew how to keep a secret.

  CHAPTER 36

  Columbo

  Chang saw a WILM Newsradio truck outside the Clearys’ house.

  The rain had stopped, and the sky gave off a dull lead color. A tall reporter with slicked-back hair and a microphone hovered at the front door. Ace Duffy. Chang tried to call Cleary with his cell phone, but it was busy.

  “Come on. Don’t talk to this guy. Follow my lead.” Chang got out of the car and marched toward the reporter. A short, rumpled producer intercepted him.

  “Hey, we have a right to be here. We’re just asking questions. You can’t keep press away.”

  Chang whirled and towered over the man. “Your rights end at this man’s property.” Chang raised his voice. “If you don’t want Ace under arrest for trespassing, get him out of here now!” Duffy watched the confrontation. Chang saw a curtain move inside the house. Good.

  “You can’t do this.” The producer took a step back.

  “These people have a right to their privacy. For the last time, get Duffy back and do your report from the street. Or I take him in. You too, if you interfere.” Chang looked at his watch and then took out a pair of handcuffs from a leather holder on his belt.

  “No need for the bracelets, Chang, just trying to do my job.” Duffy pranced down the walk. “Who’s that with you? A little puny for a trooper. He goes in the field with you, huh? Care to comment?”

  Chang shook his head and noticed that the sly bastard had keyed on the mike while they were “just chatting.”

  “You left this on by mistake. Here, let me help you…” Chang gripped the microphone and felt Dragon-talons break off the plastic switch with his thumb. “Shoddy equipment…”

  “You prick. You did that on purpose.” Duffy held his ground and waved the broken microphone in Chang’s face.

  Chang dangled the handcuffs from his fingers. “Are you trying to obstruct a police officer?”

  Duffy stepped aside. “Flannigan’s right about you. Washed up…”

  Chang blocked out the rest and turned away. He joined Nelson by the front door. He knocked, and it sprung open. Ben Cleary had huge bags under his eyes.

  “I’d thank you for getting rid of him, but he wouldn’t be here if not for you. Before I leave for court to file papers, would you care to explain to me how people like that got the impression Heather was murdered?” Chang and Nelson entered the opulent foyer. Cleary motioned them into the formal living room. Chang’s eye for antiques spotted the collection of jade Buddhas in a glass case. No time to look closer, but he could tell the pieces were quality. He wondered if the Clearys’ Western eyes saw beyond the monetary value.

  Rose Cleary sat ramrod straight on the couch. She was a statuesque dark-haired woman. The hair was different, but he could swear she wore the same waxy grief mask that Jennifer Topper’s mother showed in all those press conferences.

  “I understand you’re going to explain what happened.” She sounded under control, but her glassy eyes said she was medicated.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Cleary, first of all, I want to apologize on behalf of my entire department for failing to prevent information about this case from going public prematurely. I can assure you that Mr. Rogers and I didn’t say a word.”

  “But why would the papers print lies?” Rose turned her head as though she had a stiff neck.

  “We’re all upset about the leak, but the facts would have come out eventually.” Chang kept his eyes on Rose. Her pain told him this was not the time for a fiery avenger.

  Cleary took his wife’s hand. “What are you saying?”

  “These reporters, while insensitive, aren’t wrong. I’m sorry, but your daughter was murdered.”

  “We went over this. It was an accident!” Cleary’s voice bounced off the walls, and Rose flinched. Chang leaned forward and spoke to her in his most gentle tone.

  “Mrs. Cleary, I see what a tidy house you have. Even your garage was spotless, and yet there was a puddle of oil on the floor. Would any of you leave such a mess?”

  “Well, no, but you should see her room.” Rose wore a vacant smile.

  “She would have no reason to touch the oil can, would she?”

  “No, but…” Cleary paused. “I didn’t want to say anything…” He cleared his throat. “She used drugs sometimes. Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing. I’m not stupid. I wondered why she would start the car with the garage door closed. Hell, she might have driven right through it if she didn’t slip.” He started to sob and turned it into a cough.

  “Mr. Cleary, your daughter didn’t slip. The oil was poured on after the fact. Whether she happened to be high wouldn’t have made a difference. Also…” Chang looked from one to the other.

  “What?” Cleary said.

  “I saw her body. When someone slips and hits their head, there’s one distinct impact spot. I found at least three contusions, maybe more. She was struck several times with a blunt object.”

  Rose made a sound like a kettle on full boil. Her wail ripped though Chang’s professional veneer and forced him to look away. Before he did, he saw her mask dissolve and she covered her face with both hands.

  Cleary hugged her, and Chang wished
they could let them grieve in private. He felt like a voyeur.

  Cleary looked up after several agonizing minutes. “What were the other facts?”

  Chang felt some hope rise along with the sadness that came from close contact with victims’ families.

  “We checked the key in the ignition and found no fingerprints.”

  “What’s odd about that?” Cleary said.

  “Unless Heather always wore gloves when she started her car, we would expect to see at least traces of her prints. Instead, we found nothing. The key was wiped clean.” Chang could see the concept begin to take hold.

  “Who?” Her jaw set, and she looked like she was in the room for the first time.

  “We hoped you might help us find out who. I’m going to ask for your trust.”

  “After this morning?” Cleary’s face flushed.

  “I’m asking anyway. My partner will tell you why. Something that I can’t.” Chang moved out of earshot.

  He saw Nelson explain their theory about the new-car link. Cleary looked furious.

  “Detective Chang, why didn’t Byrd tell me this? What the hell is going on here?”

  Chang took Cleary aside. “Officially, I can’t say.” Chang pressed one of Nancy’s cards into Cleary’s palm. “Call the number; you’ll have the answer.” Chang led Cleary back to the couch.

  “Was Heather looking at any other types of cars, like Hondas?”

  “We gave her money, but we don’t know where she went.” Cleary spoke, and Rose stared down.

  “Once she picked a car, you would take care of the payments?”

  “It would come out of her allowance,” Rose said. “But yes.”

  “Would the deposit and paperwork be in your name?”

  “No, I insisted it all be in hers; we just helped her with the finances,” Cleary said.