by Steve Garcia
Giordano stared at the plastic case but said nothing.
“Playing stupid isn’t going to help you very much. You know damn good and well who’s on it, don’t you, Mr. Giordano?”
“Okay. So I ate dinner at a trendy restaurant. Big deal.”
“You dined alone?”
“You’ve got the film. Did I?”
“The table was set for two. Who didn’t show? And if you hope to go home today, cut the bullshit.”
Wallace was good. Giordano paused, most likely considering whether having dinner in any way constituted a crime. “Okay, so what? I was supposed to have dinner with a friend who happens to be a councilman. They’re allowed to have friends, aren’t they?”
“In this case, there are two unique things about the council member. The first is that he approved construction bids. He approved a boatload of them for Pearl Construction in the last five years. The second thing unique to him was that he was whacked a few hours before you two were supposed to have dinner.”
“Whacked?”
Wallace slammed her hand on the table. “I said cut the bullshit.”
“Who did it?”
“Cute,” said Reyes. “Were you the one bribing him?”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t,” said Wallace. “And if we subpoena your bank details, your wife’s bank details, and your brother-in-law’s and cross-reference them with the contract dates, we won’t find anything at all.”
“What do you expect to find?”
“I think you know, Sonny. You’ve heard of asset forfeiture, yes?”
“So what?”
“Well, if we find your business dealings with the council are anything but one hundred and ten percent watertight, we take your house in lieu. You got that? We can take whatever we want.”
“I told you. I know nothing about any kickbacks.”
“I didn’t mention kickbacks, Sonny,” said Wallace. “I think you need to start talking.”
Giordano blinked nervously. “You said this was about bribery.”
Reyes walked behind him and spoke in a low voice. “You think business is going to be good if every week we get a couple of uniforms following you around, turning up at sites, interrupting meetings. Checking every fucking letter of every contract that passes your desk. Making sure all your hard hats are regulation, that sort of thing…”
“Hey, man, that’s blackmail,” said Giordano, twisting in his seat to look at Reyes. “Are you recording this?”
“It’s the law, Sonny,” said Wallace. “My partner isn’t joking. Just tell us about these kickbacks, and we’ll leave you alone. It was Bart, wasn’t it?”
Giordano looked to the side, chewed his lip, then snapped his eyes back. He nodded.
“Yeah, it was Bart,” Giordano said. “I didn’t have anything to do with any of that shit.”
Behind him, Reyes grinned.
“So, you’re saying it was all Pearl’s idea? He handled it?”
“Yeah…I…”
“Your brother-in-law bought his freedom by cutting a deal. He promised to testify against somebody, didn’t he, Sonny?”
Giordano shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Bart since he went in. I don’t—”
“This isn’t rocket science. He walked out of jail and within forty-eight hours, both he and Simons are dead. It’s kind of obvious.”
“It is?”
“Come on, Sonny. Who gains the most by eliminating Pearl?”
“I don’t know, who?”
“You’d take over his company, wouldn’t you?”
“You think I killed Bart? Where’s Rita?”
“Here’s what we know,” Reyes said. “Tell us what you think. Pearl was bribing Simons to give your construction company an edge. His drug habit was crippling him inside Central so he agreed to squeal—expose the whole crooked mess—but only if he could walk. He sold everyone out for a fix. When he called you, you knew that if word got around about the bribes, Pearl Construction would be forced out of business. Finished. Kaput. Lawsuits up the ying yang. You’d be charged with half a dozen crimes. The great life you busted your hump to build would be gone, and all because of your brother-in-law.”
“There was only one way out, right, Sonny?” Wallace said, drawing Giordano’s focus back to her. “The only way to prevent all of that from happening was to take him out. A dead man can’t testify.”
They’d gone too far, and Giordano visibly relaxed, sitting back in his seat. “Bart was family,” he said.
“You’re breaking my heart.” Wallace leaned closer. “You were so close to good old Bart that the entire time he was awaiting trial, you didn’t even stop by to say hello. The man was probably climbing the walls with that drug habit of his, but you and your wife did absolutely nothing for him. You didn’t even bring the guy a Hershey bar.”
“Wait a minute. The only reason I took over his part of the operations was because he got arrested. I couldn’t trust anybody else, but we had too many contracts for one guy to handle. I didn’t have time—”
“All contracts approved by Simons,” muttered Wallace, just loud enough for Giordano to hear.
“What did Rita have to do with all of this?” Reyes cut in.
Giordano scratched his head. “Rita?”
“Yeah. You do remember your wife, don’t you—Rita?”
“She doesn’t know anything.”
“So you’re trying to say that you were in this alone? That’s not the impression I got,” Reyes said. “How about you, Phil? Is that the impression you got?”
“Not by a long shot.”
“What did she say?” Giordano said. “I don’t even understand why you’re interrogating her.”
“No, no. We don’t interrogate. We were interviewing her. Seriously, where did you think we were all this time, having coffee?” Reyes said. “You know what, Phil? Maybe we should go back and talk to Rita again.” He pushed back from the table. “Maybe she can clear some of the confusion up for us.”
“I agree,” Wallace said, as she stood up. She handed the CD and photos of Simons back to Reyes. “You sit tight. We’ll be back.”
“Rita didn’t do anything and she doesn’t know anything.” His eyes searched the faces of both detectives. “Come on, the woman just found out that her brother was murdered. Give her a break.”
“I’m ready.” Reyes stood, picked up the folders, and opened the door.
“What do you want from me?” Giordano asked.
Wallace walked out. Reyes stood quietly by the door for a moment looking at Giordano. “I think you underestimate your wife.”
Reyes pulled the door shut behind him before Giordano could respond. “Well, that seemed to go well.”
“He confirmed your suspicions about Simons taking bribes. We need to get that in writing. Man, would I like to get into Simons’s office again.”
“FID won’t let us near any of the Simons information. Unless you can get David to—”
“No. Let’s go talk to Mrs. Giordano.”
Brooks walked toward them carrying a folder. He looked angry and tired. “If you didn’t hear, Hackett confirmed Pearl didn’t die in the fire. He was killed somewhere else and dumped there. No smoke in the lungs. He was shot in the head. One round to the right temple. Close range. Thankfully, the bullet lodged in the skull.”
“Any ballistics?” said Reyes.
Brooks opened the file, turned over a couple of pages, and ran his finger down the sheet.
“Nine by eighteen from a Makarov.”
16
Reyes took the folder. “Okay, thanks, Sarge.”
He looked at Brooks and wanted to say something but all he could come up with was, “How are you doing?”
“Shitty.” Brooks turned and headed back toward his desk.
“He’s finding it tough,” said Wallace.
> Guilt rides a man hard, thought Reyes.
“Twenty bucks says it was same Makarov we found with Simons,” he said.
“No way we can find that out without stepping on FID’s toes,” said Wallace. She’d already turned to interview room two. “Second verse, same as the first.”
Reyes followed her in. Rita Giordano was a petite, pretty redhead, though the strain was showing in the lines on her pale face. Her bony hands were clasped tightly in front of her, but now and then she flicked the hair from her face.
“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been waiting a long time. Can you tell me why we’re even here? Have you found Bart’s killer?”
Reyes took the seat directly across from Rita Giordano. Wallace sat at the end of the table. “We had to speak to your husband first,” Reyes said. “He had some interesting things to say. We thought that maybe we should let you have a chance to defend…I mean, we thought we should hear your side of things before we proceed.”
Rita looked confused. “My side of things?”
“What role did you play in the business?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything.”
Reyes opened a folder and flipped a few sheets. He ran his finger down as though he were reading and trying to locate the correct spot on the page. He jabbed his index finger on the paper. “Ah, yes,” he said, as looked into her eyes. “These bribes, Rita—they don’t make Bart look like an angel, do they?”
“Bribes? I don’t know anything about bribes. Who told you that?”
Reyes held up his hands as if to say that the information was confidential. He rolled his eyes toward the wall and what was on the other side of the wall.
“Sonny?”
Reyes looked back at the sheet as if to confirm what he had read. It was a bullshit bluff, but she had bitten on it. He shrugged. “What can I say?”
“Something’s wrong. I don’t know who told you that, but it wasn’t Sonny.”
“Why didn’t you join your husband at dinner last night?” Wallace asked.
“He didn’t invite me.”
“So you don’t have an alibi for yesterday?”
“An alibi? Why do I need an alibi?”
“Come on, Rita. You and your husband had a lot to lose if the bribes came out. Only two other people knew about them, and now those two people are dead.”
She took a couple of short breaths and put her hand in front of her mouth. “That no-good councilman must have done it. He was always telling Bart what he could and couldn’t do.”
“Simons was murdered, too, Rita,” said Wallace, quietly.
Rita sat quietly for a few seconds, then quickly made the sign of the cross.
Reyes flipped another page in the file and pretended once again to read. This time he kept focused on the sheet in the folder. “Sonny tells us that he and Bart didn’t see eye to eye on how to run the business.” He glanced over at Rita. “Is that a fair statement?”
“Sure,” she said, “but that doesn’t make my husband a killer. Sonny is far more reasonable than Bart ever was. My brother was always looking for shortcuts. You know, the easy way. Fast money. Easy money. Sonny is different. He believes in an honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work.”
“Bart preferred bribes and threats, did he?”
“Bart wasn’t a business man, if that’s what you mean.”
“What sort of man was he, Rita?” asked Wallace, in a softer voice. “Why would someone want to kill your brother?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Rita. “Bart was a bully, y’know? He’d use his muscle a bit. If he couldn’t make you see it his way, he had a man who could.”
“Does that sort of behavior fly in the construction business?” said Reyes. “If Bart’s pushing people around, why not go to the cops and report it?”
Rita put her head back and let out a shrill laugh. “The cops?”
Wallace glanced across at Reyes.
“What’s so funny?” said Reyes. “You don’t have much faith in the LAPD?”
“It’s not that,” said Rita.
“Care to elaborate?” said Wallace. Her face hardened. “You do want to find out who put a bullet in Bart’s brain, don’t you?”
Rita fondled the cup, staring at it as though it were a crystal ball.
“It was probably Bart BS-ing, trying to impress people, but, well—he said he owned a cop.”
“Your brother was bribing a cop? Did he tell you his name?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think he did.”
“Does the name Raymond Brooks, or Ray, ring any bells?” asked Reyes. Wallace shot him a look like thunder.
“No.”
“Does the name Cresner sound familiar?” Wallace said.
“Cresner? Yes. That’s the cop Bart was accused of shooting.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know if that’s who Bart was bribing. All I know for sure is that that my brother was scared of this cop, too.”
“So, you do know about some of your brother’s dirty dealings,” Wallace said.
Rita lifted the cup to her lips, as though she was going to take a sip, then changed her mind and put it down quickly.
“Tell us what you know about the shooting of Detective Cresner,” said Reyes. “Don’t make me charge you with obstruction of justice.”
The worry on her face deepened. She tapped the cup on the table. “I found out all of this after the fact, after the shooting. If I tell you…”
“If you know anything, now is the time to tell it.”
“Bart told me that he had gone to make a drug buy. He found his dealer in his usual spot. Unfortunately, Cresner was already there. He said it looked like Cresner was shaking the pusher down. One thing led to another. Bart said Cresner threw the dealer aside and reached for his gun. Bart swore that he shot him in self-defense. But Cresner’s a cop, so no one believed him.”
“Do you know the dealer’s name?” Wallace asked.
“No. I didn’t approve of Bart’s drug use. I tried to distance myself from it. Like I said, I didn’t find out most of this until after the shooting and Bart’s arrest.”
“Do you know who was supplying drugs to your brother in jail?”
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I didn’t know he was getting drugs in jail. I was hoping that being locked up, he could get clean.”
“Have you ever heard of someone named Duke? Dwayne Duke maybe?” Wallace asked.
Rita Giordano shook her head. “No. Sorry.”
“How about Arsenio Ignatiez?” Reyes asked.
“No.”
“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm your brother?”
“I’m sure there were a lot of people, but I don’t know who they are.” Rita shifted her gaze to Reyes. “Maybe it was that cop my brother was afraid of.”
“A logical choice. Instead of gamblers and drug dealers, we’ll focus on a cop we’re not even sure exists,” Reyes said. “One last question, Mrs. Giordano.” And one more bluff on my part. “We already know why your husband wanted your brother out of the way, but do you know of any reason why your husband would want Mr. Simons dead?”
There was a pause. Rita appeared confused, and then she gasped. “Oh, no. No. My husband wouldn’t hurt anybody.”
“Okay. If that’s the way you want to play it,” Reyes said. “Let me put it another way. Do you want to take this opportunity to tell us your version of what happened to your brother and Mr. Simons? If so, now is the time.”
“I don’t have a version.” She began picking at the cup again.
Leaving Rita to ponder what was happening, Wallace and Reyes returned to IR one. This time there were no pleasantries. Wallace started speaking before she sat down.
“Sonny, were you surprised to hear your brother-in-law had been murdered?”
“Honestly? It didn’t surprise me that someone capped his ass. Bart was riding the pale horse. It had to c
atch up with him eventually.”
“The thing is, Sonny,” said Wallace, “we know you’re lying to us. Rita’s been very informative about the business. You were happy to let Bart deal with Simons, until Bart got dead, of course. Then you contacted Simons for dinner, just to keep everything on an even keel, yes?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Giordano sneered.
“If only Bart hadn’t mucked up and shot a cop. You don’t do drugs, do you, Sonny?”
“No,” said Giordano.
“Of course you don’t. I guess you don’t do anything wrong at all. The only honest builder in LA, huh?”
Giordano lost his smile.
“Sonny,” interrupted Reyes. “We’ve got you on the bribes. We’ll pull the banking records, charge you and your wife with aiding fraud, and no one this side of Korea Town will do business with you when you eventually get out.”
“I’ve told you. My wife had nothing to do with any of this.”
Wallace let silence fall for twenty seconds.
“Look,” said Giordano. “I’ve given you everything I can. I want to know who killed Bart as much as you do.”
“Do you know the name of the cop who was looking after him?”
The color rushed from Giordano’s face.
“We know that Bart was in with a dirty cop, Sonny. Were you in, too?”
“Rita told you this?”
“Rita said he was scared of the cop.”
“How do I know you two aren’t dirty, too?”
“So there is a cop?”
Another long silence. “Look, if I tell you what I know, will you leave Rita out of this?”
“Tell us, and we’ll see what we can do.”
Giordano took a deep breath. “Bart came by the morning before he was killed.”
Reyes tried to keep his face from displaying any emotion. Now we’re getting somewhere.
“What time?” asked Wallace.
“Midmorning. Maybe eleven-ish.”
“What did he say?”
“He said somebody was following him. There were times Bart made up shit to make himself sound more important, more exciting, but I think he was telling the truth that day.”
