by Mike Faricy
Some sort of public affairs officer on site gave the standard message to the news reporters. How they’d like “Anyone with any information to please come forward.” I debated about calling and finally decided I had to tidy up a couple of things before I contacted the police.
The following morning I placed a call to my pal in homicide, Lieutenant Aaron LaZelle. My luck still seemed to be holding, in other words not changing, as in, remaining bad, very bad. I knew things weren’t going to go my way as soon as I heard the no nonsense voice on the line.
“This is Detective Norris Manning.”
“Actually, I was calling for Lieutenant Aaron LaZelle, I’ll try back a little later and….”
“Haskell? Is that you?” Manning’s voice seemed to suggest he couldn’t believe how fortunate he was to make my life miserable this early in the morning.
“Right, as always, detective.”
“Ready to confess to that murder over on Summit Ave yesterday,” he joked.
“Actually, that’s sort of why I’m calling. I saw something on the news about it this morning and I happened to be working with the owner of that home this past week.”
“The Kominski woman? We’ve been trying to locate her.”
“I think I know where she is, I …”
“We’d probably like to discuss this in person, Haskell. Certainly you should be familiar with our procedures at this point. You at home?”
“Well, yeah I am, but I was just about to….”
“This takes priority, I’ll send a car around to pick you up. They’ll be there in the next ten minutes,” he said and hung up.
About an hour later two patrolmen knocked on the door.
“Hi guys,” I said as I opened the door.
I noticed they were both wearing leather gloves and the taller of the two had sort of assumed a position that would allow him to pounce. The other guy had his hand hanging close to his Taser, almost in a quick draw mode.
“Devlin Haskell?”
“Yeah, Detective Manning said you’d be stopping by almost an hour ago, let’s get going. I got things to do today.”
The two officers looked at one another. Then one of them said, “Actually, Manning’s the one who told us to expect trouble.”
“Trouble? I called down there to talk to Lieutenant LaZelle. Manning got on the line and said I had to be there in person. Sorry you guys have to take time to drive me, but Manning insisted.”
They gave one another a look that spoke volumes, then the tall guy said, “Come on, let’s go.”
We chatted on the way down. “You familiar with Detective Manning?” one of them asked.
“Yeah, unfortunately. Something goes wrong in this town and he knows if he can just push hard enough he’ll find out that somehow I’m connected.”
“You’re a private investigator?” the tall guy asked, he was driving.
“Yeah.”
“Manning isn’t gonna like you just on general principles. He thinks you guys are a big part of the problem.”
“Well, he’s really got an in for me.”
“Don’t limit it to just you. One thing you have to say is that he’s broken a number of tough cases. He’s good at what he does.”
“Yeah, unfortunately what he does is give me a hard time.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
I waited for Manning in a small lobby area just outside the door marked “Homicide.” I felt like I had been waiting for at least an hour. I was wrong, it was only fifty-five minutes. I was sitting on a chrome and fake green leather chair that had a torn seat with not so much as a “Watchtower” to read. He finally popped his shiny bald head out the door.
“Oh, Haskell. Sorry about the delay,” he said not sounding sorry at all. “But, I expected you sooner.”
“You said ten minutes, your guys showed up an hour later. Someone told me you’d be out in just a minute, fifty-five minutes ago. Apparently I’m on city time. I don’t suppose Lieutenant LaZelle would happen be available?”
“Unfortunately for both of us, no. Shall we get started?” he said and opened the door so I could step in. We walked past a conference room, two smaller sort of chat rooms, an office, a number of cubicles and then down a hallway to one of the “interview” rooms.
Interview room sounds so nice. But the place seems unnaturally cold and the moment you step into the room you can smell the sweat and fear from past occupants that has now permanently seeped into the cinder block walls.
I’d been one of those sweating past occupants more than once and I knew what the place looked like before Manning even opened the door. There was a metal topped table at the far end of the room. An uncomfortable chair, bolted to the floor so that when you sat in it your back was to the wall. The chair was positioned just far enough from the table so you couldn’t quite lean forward and rest against the table comfortably.
To your left, as you sat facing a couple of unsmiling interviewing officers was a wall with two-way mirrors. People could come and go in the room behind the mirrors and you’d never know who was observing you. There was a steel sort of cabinet on wheels with three shelves parked in a far corner. It held a series of recording devices, a flat screen, all sorts of cords coiled up and usually a coffee mug sometimes with lipstick around the edge. A waste basket filled with paper cups from the vending machine that dispensed lousy coffee sat next to the cabinet.
Manning held the door for me. “Grab a seat,” he said casually, like we had just strolled into his kitchen or a nice coffee shop somewhere.
“Am I gonna need a lawyer here, Manning? I just wanted to tell you guys that I worked for….”
“Please, we’ll get to all that in just a moment, but first take a seat,” he said directing me by waving a hand holding a manila folder. He smiled as if to suggest sitting in a chair bolted to the floor would be a pleasant experience.
It was a couple of years ago, but I’d been handcuffed to that very chair and interrogated for about forty hours by Manning, at no surprise. Just the unpleasant memory made me shudder.
“Something the matter?”
“No, no nothing.”
“Then please, Haskell take a seat.” He smiled, but there was a cautionary tone in his voice now. I’d been on the other side of the table from him enough times to recognize it when I heard it. In case I had any doubt his bald, pink head seemed to take on a slight crimson shade and the ice blue eyes sharpened ever so slightly.
I sat down and Manning’s eyes seemed to relax and smile in acknowledgment of his modest victory.
“I’d like you to sign this,” he said as he opened his manila folder and slid a sheet of paper across the metal table top to me. “Today’s date is the twenty-first.”
I read a brief paragraph that basically stated I was there locked in a room with Manning in an uncomfortable chair bolted to the floor of my own free will.
“I’ll need a pen.”
He gave a soft sigh, then reached inside his sport coat and pulled out a pen. It was dark blue and read SPPD on the side in silver letters, St. Paul Police Department. My tax dollars at work. I signed the form and slid it back across the table. He examined my signature for a moment, apparently checking my spelling.
“I’m just going to record this, if that’s alright with you, Haskell,” he said then inserted a tape cassette and pushed a button on an ancient recording device without waiting for my answer. He basically read out loud the paragraph I’d just signed then stated the date and asked me if I was in agreement with what he’d just read.
I felt like taking a swing at him across the table, but smiled and said, “Yeah, sure.”
“So you called this morning and said you wanted to make a statement.”
“No, I called this morning and said I wanted to speak with Lieutenant LaZelle. You told me he was unavailable and that I would have to come down here.”
“What did you wish to confess to Lieutenant LaZelle?”
“I didn’t wish to confess anything. I simpl
y wanted to tell him that I had been employed by Natasha Kominski for the past week. I saw a news report last night on TV about some sort of altercation at her home. I had provided security for her. I dropped her off yesterday morning at the Xcel Center where she is competing in the Blessington Kennel Club show. It’s my understanding that she will be in that facility, competing for the next three or four days. I might add, I’m no longer in her employ.”
That last statement seemed to excite him. “No longer in her employ? Was there a problem? Why did she terminate your employment?” He sounded hopeful.
“No, there was no problem. Our original arrangement was that my employment would be finished when she went to the Blessington show. I was not terminated, I merely fulfilled my original work agreement.”
“The show concludes on Sunday, I believe,” Manning said sounding perfectly reasonable.
“That’s my understanding.”
“How does she intend to get home?”
“I don’t know, walk maybe. The term of my employment ended when she registered for the Blessington, yesterday. She didn’t mention going home and anyway, I’ve finished my gig.”
“Are you familiar with her residence on Summit Ave?”
“I’ve been there a few times. I was in the house once, no twice actually.”
“When was the last time you were there?”
“The day before yesterday, she packed some items, clothing for herself, some grooming items for her dog along with a leash, a couple of chew toys, a ball, that sort of stuff.”
“And then what?”
“And then we went to my house, she and her dog, Princess Anastasia spent the night and I drove them to the Xcel Center the following morning, that would have been yesterday morning.”
“Now why would she want to spend the night at your place?”
“I just felt it was more secure and it would make the following morning that much easier, I wasn’t sure what the procedure would be to actually register at the show.”
“And you left her at the Xcel Center?”
“Yeah, security was tight, they had police officers at the door, some bellboy sort of guy with a red hat loaded up her luggage and wheeled it inside. They, one of the officers at the door, seemed to check her name off a list and then he told me that I couldn’t get in and to please move my car.”
“Did she tell you she forgot anything at home?”
“No.”
“She didn’t ask you to get anything from her home and bring it down to the Xcel Center?”
“No.”
“Are you saying you did not return to her Summit Ave residence at any time yesterday?”
I knew where he was going, Ramon and that guy with the ponytail who kicked me probably fingered me for beating them with the tire iron. That meant they fingered me as the guy who killed Billy, too. I had a choice, plead self defense or insist I was never even there.
“That’s correct, I was not at her home yesterday. The last time I was there was the night before. She packed her suitcases and then came to my house.”
Manning made a note in the file, I figured he would be checking with Natasha the moment he was finished with me. Then he looked up and smiled at me for a long moment. He took off his glasses and rubbed his face like he’d been up for hours and was exhausted.
“You know Haskell, it never ceases to amaze me that almost every time there is some sort of unpleasant activity in this town you never seem to be too far away. Does that strike you as odd?”
“What, that you’re amazed?”
He looked at me for a long moment, then put his glasses back on. His ice blue eyes, magnified by the lenses, had suddenly morphed into lasers boring a hole right in the middle of my forehead. He shook his head slowly from side to side. “It’s really only a matter of time, Haskell. Very well, you’re free to go, for now, but I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”
“I look forward to it. Can you have someone give me a ride home?”
Chapter Forty-Nine
True to his word, Manning had someone give me a ride home. I had to wait another hour before he got anyone to drive me, but I eventually got there. The first thing I did once I got home was gather up the pistols from Ramon and ponytail, put Morton in the backseat and we took a drive down to the river. I got the Frisbee out of the car and tossed it around for Morton to fetch along the shore. I checked around for a good ten minutes, but we seemed to be alone and I quickly tossed the pistols as far as I could out into the Mississippi.
By the middle of the afternoon we were back home for a late lunch. Morton was gnawing on a steak bone when the doorbell rang.
“I’ve got a warrant here to search these premises,” Manning said. Then he slapped a search warrant against my chest and pushed me to the side as he led four other guys into the house.
“What the hell is this about?” I asked.
“It’s all there in the warrant, please step out onto your porch. You can read it out there so you won’t be interfering with our work in here.”
“What in the hell are you looking for? What do you expect to find?”
Morton was moving his head from side to side, his tongue was hanging out and he obviously thought it was a great idea that all these guys had come over to play. One of the cops scratched him behind the ears and that got his tail going.
“Take the dog with you,” Manning said.
We were out on the front porch, Morton and I. Morton was barking hello to everyone who passed while I talked to Louie on my cellphone. “No, I told you, I don’t have any idea what they’re looking for.”
“Okay, look I’ve got a court appearance in about a half hour, shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes, and then I’ll be over, not that I can really do anything about this. The warrant looks in order?”
“Yeah, it’s that prick, Manning, he does everything by the book.”
“Shit. Okay, don’t say anything to them and do not, let me repeat, do not make another phone call. To anyone, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Look, we’ll be sitting on the front porch.”
“What do you mean, we?”
“We, me and Morton.”
“Okay, I’ll see you just as soon as I can.”
We were still sitting on the front porch when Louie arrived. I’d been watching traffic for the past two hours and Morton had been sleeping in the sun.
“So how’s it going?” Louie asked climbing onto the front porch.
“How do you think? I haven’t seen or heard anything. As far as I know they could be in there drinking all my beer, well, except that I don’t have any.”
“Let me see that warrant,” he said then scanned the thing while I went back to watching the traffic drive past.
“Looks in order. No idea what they’re looking for?”
“Not really. Maybe they got wind of the dope those guys were looking for, but I never touched the stuff, never even saw it actually.” Which suddenly made me wonder if I should call the Head Case salon and give Alexi a warning?
“And you contacted the police?”
“Yeah, I thought it would be best to get my involvement out there. I figured they would hear about it from Natasha sooner or later and that it would just be better if the word came from me. You think I shouldn’t have called?”
“No, it was definitely the right thing to do. Are they gonna find anything here?”
“Nothing I can think of.”
With that the front door opened and four guys walked out of the house, two of them were carrying boxes, a third had what looked like a trash bag full of clothing. Manning followed with two plastic evidence envelopes.
“Alright Mr. Haskell, we’d like to thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch, we’ve taken a few things. Nice,” he said and held up the two plastic envelopes. Each envelope contained the remnants of a chewed up thong, one belonged to Heidi and the other to Natasha.
Louie looked over at me, but didn’t say anything.
“We’ve
left a detailed list of these items on your dining room table. Any questions?” Manning said in a way that strongly suggested we shouldn’t ask any questions.
“We’re just glad to be of assistance, Detective,” Louie said and smiled.
“Oh yeah, and one more little detail, I’m going to need your cellphone, Mr. Haskell.”
“My cell?”
“Yes.”
“What am I supposed to do without it, how am I supposed to make calls, conduct business?”
“Business? I suppose you might try a pay phone if you can find one. Not really my problem. We’ll have it back to you just as soon as we possibly can,” Manning said and smiled.
I handed him my cellphone and we watched as they placed the boxes and plastic bags into the trunk of Manning’s car. Then they climbed into three separate vehicles and drove off.
“These chicks you date, they get off on you eating their underwear?” Louie asked.
“Give me a break that was Morton. What the hell am I supposed to do without a phone?”
“Least of our problems right now. Let’s see what else they took,” Louie said.
We read through the list they’d left on the dining room table.
“God my laptop? Really?”
“Probably just wanted to watch the porn you downloaded. Bed sheets, pillows, bath towels, computer, cellphone, wine glasses, some silverware, oh, remnants of two thongs, one red and one black,” he said then glanced over at me.
“I told you, that was Morton.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said and handed me the list. “Now level with me, what, exactly do we have to worry about?”
“Nothing, really. Like I said those thongs, one was Heidi’s and the other one, um might have been Natasha’s.”
“Natasha,” Louie said and shook his head.
“I’m guessing they’ll get DNA off the bed sheets to correspond with that,” I said.
