Martinez commiserated. “Jeanine was so upset. You just couldn’t turn her down.”
“Turn her down?” Sean was confused.
“When she asked for your help,” Martinez said.
“She never asked for my help.” Sean was indignant. “She never asked anything from me.”
Webster and Martinez exchanged glances. Webster said, “Sean, there’s no sense protecting her—”
“I’m not protecting anyone. It was all me. Actually it was all Mal. He was the one—”
“Sean, you’re the one in trouble,” Martinez said. “You’re looking at a long jail sentence…or maybe worse—”
“But I—”
“Sean, don’t be an idiot,” Webster said. “You can’t mean to say you’re going to let Jeanine get off scot-free—”
“But she didn’t do anything.”
“Sean, listen to me,” Martinez said. “Your girlfriend’s been two-timing you, making time with Wade Anthony—”
“No—”
“While you’re holed up in jail, about to have your life flushed down the crapper.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Webster said, “Jeanine’s the adult, you’re the minor. She’s the one responsible—”
“No—”
“Sean, she set you up!”
“No!” Sean shook his head vehemently. “No, she didn’t do anything except help me—”
“Sean—”
“It was Malcolm who set me up.” Sean’s eyes bulged from their sockets. “Don’t you morons get it?! It was Malcolm! IT WAS MALCOLM!”
The room was quiet. Trit broke it. “Y’ all so anxious to hear him out, why don’t you let him get through his story?”
Sean spat out, “You want facts, then listen to me, goddammit! It…was…Malcolm!” Suddenly, the boy slumped, shook his head, and rubbed his eyes. “I’m tired.”
Trit said, “Go on, boy. You may never get this chance again. Tell them your story.”
“I don’t need lessons in talking. Problem is, I talk too much! Too much and to the wrong people. I musta been complaining to Mal. Just spouting shit. How hard things were on Jeanine. How much easier things would be on her if he croaked.”
“He…being David Garrison,” Webster said.
Sean nodded.
“Next thing I knew…he did croak. I remember thinking…what incredibly good luck!” He laughed bitterly. “Next day, Malcolm came over to me…asked me to pay up. Twenty-five grand in cash. I asked him what the hell he was talking about. He said ‘David Garrison.’ I almost dropped dead on the spot. I swear to holy Jesus, I never offered him a dime to kill anyone including David Garrison!”
A pause.
“Mal acted totally on his own. Totally. But to hear him talk…like I asked him to do it. But I didn’t, I swear.”
“And he asked you for twenty-five grand,” Webster said.
Sean nodded. “Needless to say, I panicked. I didn’t have that kind of bread at my fingertips. My dad holds the purse strings real tight. I can get around it, but I need time. I tried to explain that to Malcolm, but he got threatening. And when Mal threatens…he doesn’t shit around. He gave me three days.”
He wiped sweat off his brow.
“I didn’t know what to do. So I went to Jeanine. Told her what happened.”
Martinez said, “When you told Jeanine about your predicament, how’d she react?”
“She was furious! Really pissed! Ready to turn me in! I deserved to be turned in! ’Cause it was all my fault!”
The teen was breathing hard.
“I was in big trouble. With her, with everything.”
Webster said, “Why did you feel you were in trouble if you didn’t order the hit?”
“Because I made specific remarks.”
“Like what?” Martinez prodded.
“Like how nice it would be if…someone stuffed something in his veins. Jeanine said that my joking could be misinterpreted. And since I was…connected to Jeanine in a personal way—and David had been bothering her—people might believe that I was actually capable of…planning it.”
Moisture welled up in his eyes.
“She took pity on me when I was at my lowest. Even though she was real angry, she said she’d help me. Oh, God, when she told me that, I swear I fell down and kissed her feet. She believed me. You couldn’t possibly realize what that meant.”
“I b’lieve I’m getting the picture,” Webster said.
Martinez said, “What’d she do for you, Sean?”
“She loaned me money to pay off Malcolm, that’s what she did. Loaned me money from her own pocket.”
“Twenty-five grand?”
“Actually ten.”
“In cash?” Martinez asked.
Sean shook his head. “A bearer bond. Know what that is?”
“Yes,” Webster answered. “Bearer bonds haven’t been issued in years. Who’d she get the bond from?”
Sean shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Jeanine Garrison gave you a bearer bond? And you gave it to Malcolm Carey?”
Sean nodded.
“And what did he say?” Martinez asked. “It wasn’t the twenty-five grand he asked for.”
“He said he’d accept it—this time. And that I should consider myself lucky.”
He stopped talking.
“And?” Martinez asked.
“That was it,” Sean said. “Jeanine never mentioned it again. And I never said anything.”
“What about the rumors?” Martinez said. “Half the school thinks you popped David Garrison.”
“Probably Mal started those. I played along. I was too scared not to. Mal wouldn’t like it if the truth came out.”
“You were never in David Garrison’s apartment?” Webster asked.
“Never!”
“What were you doing with those pictures of Wade Anthony?” Martinez asked.
Sean sighed. “Earlier in the day…God, I’m such a jerk…” He sighed again. “Jeanine and I got into this big fight over Wade. With the tournament…she had to spend time with him. All those pictures of them together. I know it’s her profession but it pissed me off. His attitude. Like he owned her! Ordering her around. Mr. Fucking Roller—Legs! I guess I was complaining about him to Malcolm.”
“And?” Martinez encouraged.
“What’s to say?” Sean said. “Next thing I know, Mal’s got pictures of Wade Anthony and this weird look on his face. He brought over those pictures. Not me. Then he starts telling me stuff…like how easy it would be to pop him. He was just starting to talk about it when the cops busted in—”
“So why did you flush the pictures down the toilet?” Martinez persisted.
“I told you, I panicked. I just grabbed whatever shit I could reach and stuffed it in the toilet.”
“Now why don’t I b’lieve that?” Webster asked.
Sean said. “Give me a lie detector test, if you don’t believe me.”
Webster said, “If you’re lying, you won’t beat the test, Sean.”
Sean smiled wryly. “Sir, believe me. It’ll be the easiest test I’ve ever passed.”
38
Closing the door to Decker’s office, Marge said, “What is it with today’s teenagers? Are all of them psycho?”
Oliver took a chair. “You know what? I believe Sean Amos—”
“He snowed you,” Webster said.
“It’s Carey who’s doing the snowing. Kid’s giving off more flakes than a bad case of dandruff.”
Marge said, “Scott, we went into the interview charging Amos with a murder one. What was he supposed to say? I did it, yada yada yada?”
“Works in the prison movies—”
“Of course Sean’s going to try to shift the blame,” Marge went on. “The more he can pin on Carey, the better.”
“Scott, you can’t seriously believe Carey hit Garrison on his own.” Webster frowned. “That don’t make any sense.”
“Carey thought he could s
queeze a rich boy like Sean,” Oliver said. “Plus he’s a flaming psycho who likes hurting people.”
Farrell Gaynor scanned through a thirty-page list of bearer bonds that had recently been called or redeemed. “This is going to take me a long time.”
“Why are you even bothering?” Oliver said.
“The Loo says try to verify where the bond came from.” Gaynor shrugged. “Have to start somewhere. At least we know it’s state of California.”
“Yeah, that narrows it to about thirty million—”
“Not quite that much.”
Oliver said, “Decker blew it when he went with Carey. He should have gone with Sean Amos.”
“Scotty, we needed Sean to get to Jeanine,” Marge reminded him.
“Yeah, well, his strategy didn’t work. We’re not any closer to Jeanine Garrison than we were before.”
“Not quite true,” Martinez said. “If we go with Sean’s story, we can hit Jeanine with aiding and abetting—accessory after the fact.”
Webster said, “That’s another thing I can’t buy.”
“What?” Martinez asked.
“That Jeanine’s sole crime was aiding and abetting. By all accounts that woman is a manipulative bitch. Now you’re telling me she’s putting her own ass on the line to help some punk kid? C’mon…she had to be in on it. Sean is talking from his butt. Amos killed David and he did it for Jeanine.”
Decker came into his office, glanced at the clock. One-thirty. “Anyone hungry? We can order in.”
Oliver said, “How’d the polygraphs go?”
Decker said, “Elaine Reuter’s still talking to Malcolm—”
“It’s been over an hour!” Webster complained.
“To Elaine, that’s a rush job,” Decker said. “She likes to talk to her examinees at least a couple of hours before she does the test. So we’ll just have to wait. Who’s hungry?”
“Tuna on rye,” Marge said.
“Times two,” Martinez said. “Actually, give me two tunas. I’m hungry.”
“Roast beef,” Oliver said.
“Turkey,” Webster said.
A pause.
Marge said, “Anything, Farrell?”
“Sounds good,” Gaynor answered.
Oliver said, “What sounds good, Farrell?”
“Turkey. No mayo. Fruit instead of chips. Trying to watch my fat.”
Marge picked up the phone to place the order. “Loo?”
“I’m fine.” Decker showed her his brown bag, opened it. A barbecued-beef sandwich with pasta salad. The smell made his stomach growl, but out of politeness, he waited for the others.
To Decker, Oliver said, “We were just discussing how you dealt with the wrong guy.”
“No wrong guy in this case,” Decker answered. “They’re both psycho.”
Oliver stated, “Question is which is the bigger psycho.”
Decker said, “No, the question is who’s more credible in front of a grand jury. Because Sean’s going to tell his story and Carey’ll tell his. Both tales have holes bigger than grottoes. And neither hands over Jeanine Garrison.”
Martinez said, “Sean’s story delivers Jeanine as an accessory after the fact. It’s better than nothing.”
“It’s worse than nothing,” Decker corrected. “Say we try her as an accessory. She gets on the stand, starts chucking up some sob story about not thinking it through because of the incredible stress she’s been under since losing her parents, then her brother…blah, blah, blah.”
Decker made fists.
“Let’s say we even win. And she’s convicted. Here’s a woman without a record. If anything spells probation, this does. Then she goes merrily on her way.” He paused. “Then, say six months later, we find out that she was involved in her brother’s hit. Say we try to charge her. You know what’s going to happen? Her lawyer’ll raise hell, claim we can’t retry her because of double jeopardy.”
Marge said, “Pete, the hit’s a new charge. That’s not double jeopardy.”
“It’s still the same case. The law’s not so clear-cut. It’s like retrying O. J. for breaking and entering—”
“That’s a damn good idea!” Oliver said.
Decker said, “All I’m saying is that a judge could easily rule that all the criminal charges against Jeanine should have been made at the onset of the first trial. Before we charge her with anything, I want to make sure she’s completely innocent of David Garrison’s death.”
Martinez said, “Neither one’s claiming she ordered the hit, Loo.”
Decker frowned. “I know. Problem is, if we drop our deal with Carey, we won’t be able to use anything he told us about David Garrison’s hit. And Sean’s confession isn’t usable because we haven’t struck an official deal with him. Besides, the idea wasn’t to use Sean to get to Carey. We have plenty of narcotics charges on Carey. The idea was to use Sean to get to Jeanine. And he ain’t playing that game.”
“Maybe she wasn’t involved, Loo,” Martinez said.
Decker slumped down into his desk chair. “We’re going to have to drop David Garrison until we get better evidence. Just bring the kids up on drug charges.”
“We got lots on Carey, but not much happenin’ against Sean Amos.” Webster held his anger in check. “First-time drug conviction….kid’ll probably get probation. Not bad for a cold-blooded murderer—”
“Tom—”
“David Garrison’s dead and now no one is gonna take the fall.”
Decker scowled. “So what do you suggest, Thomas?”
“Run with Carey.”
Gaynor said, “What about the gun recovered at the bust?”
“What about it?” Oliver said.
“I just think it’s interesting that it was called in stolen about two months ago—”
Decker interrupted, “Farrell, when did this come in?”
“About a half hour ago.” Gaynor shrugged. “Sorry. Must have slipped my mind.”
Decker held his temper. “Who reported it stolen?”
“Lily Amos.”
The room went quiet.
“So it was Sean’s gun?” Marge said.
“No, it was Lily’s gun,” Farrell said.
“I knew that boy was evil,” Webster gloated. “Now y’all gotta ask yourselves, why would Sean bring a gun to the party unless he was planning to do something with it?”
“Meaning?” Oliver probed.
“Meaning Sean was gonna give it to Malcolm to off Wade Anthony. Just like Malcolm said. Of course Sean has to claim that he didn’t know anything about the pictures of Wade Anthony. Yet the Loo and Marge bust in, Amos has pictures of Anthony, his daily schedule, and a gun.”
Martinez said, “We know that Amos was upset at Jeanine a few hours earlier. The Loo saw them arguing.”
Webster said, “That argument was the final straw. Amos went berserk. He planned another hit…just like Carey said—”
Oliver said, “You’re missing a crucial point, Tom. Paraffin test shows that Carey fired the gun.”
“So what? He heard police coming, he just picked up whatever weapon was handy and let it rip. Loo, before you came in, I was saying that I just couldn’t buy Sean’s story. If Sean didn’t hire Carey for the hit, why would Carey have gotten involved?”
“Money,” Oliver said. “Sean’s loaded. Mal was squeezing him.”
Decker said, “And if Sean wasn’t hiring Carey to pop Anthony, what was Sean doing with Anthony’s pictures, the daily schedule, and a gun?”
Oliver said, “Maybe Mal was setting up Sean for a second squeeze.”
The other detectives groaned.
Webster became frustrated. “You’re being a broken record, Scott.”
Suddenly, the light went on. Decker slapped his forehead. “Ker-rist! Scott’s right!”
“I am?” Oliver grinned. “I mean, of course I’m right.” He paused. “Why?”
Someone knocked at the door. Lunch had arrived. After five minutes of sorting out what belonged to
whom, Decker spoke as everyone munched. Excitedly he said, “Who reported the gun stolen?”
“Lily Amos,” Farrell said, between bites of turkey. “Didn’t I just tell you that or is my memory that bad?”
Decker smiled. “It was a rhetorical question, Farrell. Look at this, people. Say Sean wants his mother’s gun…why would he have to steal it?”
Decker dug into his sandwich. Chewed rapidly, then swallowed.
“Makes much more sense for Sean to borrow the weapon, then bring it back unnoticed. Which means—”
Marge broke in, “It means the gun was stolen by someone other than Sean.”
“Malcolm Carey!” Oliver said. “Bastard stole the gun from Sean’s house.”
Decker said, “And that’s why Carey fired at us. Because at that point, the gun didn’t belong to Sean, it belonged to Carey.”
Martinez gulped down tepid coffee. “I’m lost. Let’s start with the basics. Wade Anthony. Who was planning his hit?”
Decker said, “Malcolm Carey—”
“C’mon, Loo!” Webster was dubious. “Why would Carey give a solitary shit about Wade Anthony?”
“He doesn’t give a shit about Anthony, Tom,” Decker said. “Carey was using him to set up Amos. Just like he did the first time with David Garrison—”
Webster broke in, “Loo, why would Carey take it upon himself to hit Garrison on his own? It just doesn’t make sense!”
Decker said, “Malcolm Carey didn’t hit Garrison on his own. He had a partner—”
“Jeanine!” Marge cried. “Carey was in on David Garrison’s hit with Jeanine from the beginning!”
“Jackpot!”
Oliver said, “And that was why Jeanine loaned Sean the money. She wasn’t helping Amos out. She was furthering the myth of being innocent. Because she had planned it with Carey from the beginning.”
Ideas poured into Marge’s brain like tumbling waves. “To save her butt, she made it seem as if the idea came from Sean’s ramblings! So if the investigation ever turned up David’s OD as a murder, she could pin it on Sean.”
“And the ten-thousand-dollar bearer bond was the hit price from the beginning,” Oliver said. “Instead of paying Malcolm directly, she acted like she was helping out Sean. Keeping him permanently in her debt.” He grinned at Webster. “So whaddaya think, Tulane Tom?”
Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 10 Page 37
