The Good, The Bad and The Murderous (Sid Chance Myseries Book 2)

by Chester D. Campbell

  “I have a call in for Agent Eggers. If this is part of an ongoing investigation, though, he may not be able to release anything yet.”

  “With what you have, and confirmation from the FBI, we should be able to get the District Attorney to drop the charges against Djuan Burden. It won’t matter when Mrs. Ransom’s gun was fired.”

  Maybe not as far as this case was concerned, Sid thought, but Detective Kozlov’s action mattered greatly when it pointed toward his conspiracy to get Jaz LeMieux charged with murder.

  “I’ll get back to you as soon as I talk to the FBI agent,” he said.

  Jaz felt a strong sense of frustration at her inability to find a way to extricate herself from this appalling predicament. She knew Sid was doing his best, but she had always taken responsibility for her own fate. Sitting at the computer in her home office, she reviewed the entire affair as they had pieced it together, looking for some scrap they might have missed, something that could be exploited to her benefit. She found nothing.

  When Sid called, she knew it was too early for the showdown with Victor Grimm. “Have you learned anything new?” she asked.

  “I went by to see Djuan Burden this morning. He’s in a better mood but still skeptical of his future. We’ve set things in motion to free him.”

  He told her about his visit with Hardy Vandenberg and the lawyer’s belief that the DA would drop the charges once the FBI was willing to talk.

  “That’s great, Sid. Have you told his grandmother?”

  “No. I decided to wait until I had a chance to talk with Baron Eggers.”

  “Probably a good idea.” She glanced at her clock, a refurbished pendulum model that came out of a Western Union office years ago. “It’ll soon be time for you to head for Green Hills, won’t it?”

  “Right. I’m keeping my fingers crossed on that one.”

  “I racked my brain for some way to help,” Jaz said, absently watching her screensaver rig bounce about the monitor. “Can’t think of anything.”

  “Don’t waste your worry. I’ve rehearsed this in my mind like planning for a military operation. Barring some unforeseen glitch, all should go well.”

  “Isn’t that a contradiction of Murphy’s Law?”

  Sid laughed. “That’s just another law to be broken.”

  Sid’s phone call left her pleased that their efforts would soon save a young man’s life, but looking over her notes on the Earline Ivey case reminded her that a young girl was still at risk. The murdered woman’s daughter, Vanita, was only a year older than Djuan when he went to prison. With what had happened to her mother, the just-turned teenager could easily see her life destroyed, not in the same way as Djuan’s but with the same effect.

  Jaz called K.C. Urban. “I want to do something for Vanita Ivey, Earline’s daughter. It has to be completely anonymous.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Urban asked.

  “She’s just as much a victim of this as her mother. She needs something to give her hope for the future. Maybe a college scholarship fund.”

  “That shouldn’t be too difficult to set up. It could be done through a bank as trustee, with instructions that the donor not be identified.”

  “Find out how much would be needed for tuition to a good school. I’ll have my financial guru, Mike Rich, figure out what investments would produce that amount by the time she’s ready for college.”

  “I’ll research it and get back to you,” Urban said.

  Taking steps to help someone else put her in a better frame of mind.

  Until Forrest McGinnis called.

  “I’ve been checking into the District Attorney’s case,” the attorney said, “and I found something you hadn’t mentioned.”

  “What was it?”

  “It seems that while questioning people in the area around Mrs. Ivey’s home, the detectives discovered you had been seen there that morning.”

  Jaz couldn’t believe what she had heard. “Somebody said I was around her home?”

  “Not around it, but nearby. In a drugstore on Gallatin Road near a gap in the trees that led to the rear of her home.”

  Jaz felt her head spinning. It took a few moments before she could speak. “That hadn’t entered my mind since the day it happened. When Detective Bart Masterson questioned me regarding my whereabouts, I mentioned stopping at a drugstore to get some headache pills for Marie Wallace, my housekeeper. She’s, really more like an aunt, but…the point is I had no idea Earline Ivey lived in the area.”

  “The police and the prosecutor see it as further verification that you accidentally dropped the latex glove on her porch.”

  Chapter 33

  Sid was about ready to leave for the rendezvous at the florist shop when FBI Agent Baron Eggers returned his call.

  “Have your people had any luck finding our hit man?” Sid asked.

  “We got a good description from the car rental agent and tracked him onto a flight to Dallas. The Dallas Field Division got a positive ID. They’re hard at work trying to pinpoint his location.”

  “Have you gotten anything out of Elena Ortiz?”

  “She talked. It looks like Delgado was definitely a drug hit. He came here to avoid it but wasn’t successful.”

  “If we need you to keep Djuan Burden away from a lethal injection, can you talk to the District Attorney?”

  “We’d have to get clearance from Justice, but I’d think so.”

  Sid got off the phone with barely time to make his appointment in Green Hills. As he walked out and turned to check that the office door had locked, he heard steps approaching in the hallway. He looked around to see an elderly man walk haltingly toward him using a cane. The old fellow appeared to be around five-eight, though a bit stooped from osteoporosis. His black slacks and open-collared shirt reminded Sid of the World War II veteran he’d seen earlier in the elevator downtown. A plaid Scottish driving cap covered his head above gray sideburns, and he wore a pair of brown cloth gloves. Probably a skin condition. Sid hoped he’d never find himself in that shape.

  “Is this where Doctor Knight’s office is?” he asked in a shaky voice, stopping a few feet away.

  Sid shook his head. “I know everybody in the building, and we don’t have a Doctor Knight. I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong address.”

  The old codger reached a hand up to wipe a gloved finger under his nose. His sleeve rode up and Sid caught a glimpse of the man’s watch. Black main dial and a couple of smaller dials. Expensive. The old guy must have been somebody in his day.

  “Maybe you could let me use your office phone,” the old man said. “I need to call my son.”

  Sid was torn between a desire to help the obviously confused man and the pressing need to get out to his car and head across town. He spoke with a concerned frown. “I’m really sorry, but I have to leave right now to make a meeting. There’s a lady at the last door on the right who’ll be happy to help. I can go with you as I head out to my car.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “Thanks, but go ahead. I don’t want to hold you up.”

  Sid smiled at him. “No problem. Just be careful.”

  He checked his watch as he hurried out to the parking lot. He had no time to waste. Relaxing a bit after he swung onto Vietnam Veterans Boulevard and bore down on the accelerator, he wondered how the old guy had made out. He felt a twinge of guilt at not pausing to help, but he put it out of his mind as he navigated a glut of traffic near the I-440 turnoff.

  Just as he pulled into the far end of the parking area outside the clothing store, he saw Victor Grimm climb out of a car and head into the florist shop. He recognized the two vehicles beside it as belonging to Bart and Wick.

  He walked slowly to the shop entrance, giving them time to move to the back room. The silver-haired florist smiled as he entered.

  “They’re waiting for you,” she said.

  “Thanks. I’ll come after you when we’re ready for your appearance.”

  He opened t
he door and stepped into the workroom, where Wick and Grimm sat at a table, with Bart standing beside it. Before anything was said, Grimm pushed his chair back.

  “If this bastard is your source, I’m outa here.” He started to get up.

  “Come on, Grimm,” Wick said, waving his hands in a downward motion. “Just sit down and listen to what he has to say. It’s for your own good.”

  “I’m not listening to any pseudo-detective telling me how to run my investigations.”

  “For your information,” Bart said, “Sid Chance put in more years in law enforcement than you’ve been on the police force. You should know he was responsible for catching that auto parts guy who committed three murders in Metro a few months ago.” He looked across at Sid. “Let’s hear what you have to say.”

  Looking chagrined, Grimm took his seat as Sid began.

  “I’ll start with the latest bit of news. I talked with FBI Agent Baron Eggers just before I left the office. The Feds have concluded that Omar Valdez, alias Estefan Perez Delgado, was the victim of a drug hit.”

  He told how he and Jaz had found the killer on bank surveillance camera footage, obtained photo enhancement from the FBI, and determined that the man had rented the car from TriStar Car Rental at the airport.

  “With that information, the FBI tracked him to his home base in Dallas. They’re currently trying to pin him down there.”

  Grimm could only stare in obvious confusion. “But everything pointed to that Burden boy,” he said.

  “Not everything.” Sid leaned both hands on the table. “Mrs. Ransom assured you there was no way her grandson could have put that gun in her cedar chest after he got home. And when she stood outside the door where you found it, she heard you comment that the gun looked old and you wondered if it would still fire. She heard your partner say he could demonstrate that it would.”

  Sid stopped and the room was quiet for a moment. Bart broke the silence as he looked across at Grimm.

  “I’ve always felt you were a decent, honest cop, Victor. You were a fine homicide detective until you got pissed at being passed over for sergeant, then you got too interested in closing cases at any cost. But I’ve never known you to stoop to tampering with evidence. Was it you or Kozlov who fired that gun before it was turned in?”

  Grimm cast furtive glances around the room before speaking in a soft, hesitant voice. “If the FBI can prove…if they say the murder was committed by somebody else, what difference does it make if Ransom’s gun was fired or not?”

  “When the sergeants in the Office of Professional Accountability get onto it, you better believe it’ll make a difference.”

  Though the director of the OPA was a civilian attorney, her investigators were a team of detective sergeants, one of whom rotated off every two months.

  “But why would—”

  “Mrs. Ransom strikes me as a lady who’s going to demand some answers,” Sid said.

  Bart gave Grimm a cold stare. “Your only hope of keeping that badge is to come clean now.”

  Grimm breathed deeply and rubbed his hands together. “Kozlov said we’d be the laughingstock of the department if we turned that gun in and it wouldn’t shoot. After we booked Burden, he stopped at a wooded area out near the TBI, put on a glove, and fired one shot. Then we dropped it off at the lab.”

  “You told Kozlov about finding Jaz and me at the Prime Medical Equipment store last week, didn’t you?” Sid asked.

  “Yeah. The little punk thought it was hilarious.”

  Sid caught the “punk” reference and decided the relationship was not all rosy. “Did you tell him that we were using latex gloves to search for evidence?”

  Grimm nodded.

  “Did Kozlov tell you that he came by the store early that evening?”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “You’d expect him to tell you if he did, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “He didn’t tell you what he did there?”

  “I don’t know that he was there,” Grimm said, looking agitated. “What makes you think he was?”

  Sid turned to the door and called in the florist. “Tell Detective Grimm what you saw out front the evening after I was here, the day after the shooting.”

  She described how she had looked around while locking up and saw a man park a black Dodge Avenger and enter the former medical supply store. Sid showed Grimm the photo of Kozlov she had identified as the man she saw.

  “So what if he did?” Grimm asked.

  Sid thanked the florist and let her return to the front. He turned back to Grimm. “We think he picked up one of the gloves Jaz LeMieux had worn and used it as a plant to incriminate her in Earline Ivey’s murder.”

  The detective swung his head around his three interrogators. “I don’t know anything about that. I only worked with him on this Burden case.”

  Sid hadn’t intended to include Bart and Wick with his use of “we” in the accusation, but it appeared to have influenced Grimm. He went into full defensive mode.

  “There’s a distinct possibility that the Ivey murder was committed by the same professional who killed Delgado,” Sid said. He knew he was into area where he could offer no proof, but he could see no alternative. “If Kozlov provided the glove to leave at the murder scene, it would ally him with the drug traffickers who went after Delgado. Has he given you any indication of an interest in the drug scene?”

  Grimm shifted his eyes about the room as he replied. “He talks about his buddies in narcotics, but I’ve never seen or heard anything…nothing that led me to believe he was involved in something illegal.”

  Sid wondered if the detective had suspected something but declined to admit it in fear of retribution by Deputy Chief Kozlov. There was no way to know. Bart and Wick counseled Grimm to contact the OPA about the firing of Mrs. Ransom’s .22 pistol. If he didn’t, they would report what they knew, leaving him at the mercy of the system. The grilling ended with Grimm practically running out of the shop, while Sid silently lamented his failure to shake anything loose that would help clear Jaz. His only hope was that an investigation by the Office of Professional Accountability would turn up evidence linking Kozlov to the murder.

  Outside the florist shop, Sid thanked his friends for their help. “I knew it was a long shot, but I felt it was our best chance to help Jaz.”

  “Tell her we’re a hundred percent behind her,” Bart said. “We’ll keep our antennas tuned for anything that looks promising.”

  Sid intended to call Jaz as soon as he returned to the office, but the phone was ringing when he walked in.

  “This isn’t an official call,” said Agent Eggers. “I’d get into trouble for revealing some of this, but you’ve been a big help to me and I felt I owed it to you.”

  Sid listened with a growing sense of unease. After everything that had happened this afternoon, the agent’s tone did not strike him as bearing welcome news.

  “What going on?”

  “They found your hit man in Dallas. He had fake driver’s licenses, Social Security cards, passports, you name it, stashed in hidden compartments around his house. Guns, ammo, and suppressors.”

  “They have him in custody?”

  “No. That’s why I called. The neighbors last saw him early yesterday. We’ve had the place under surveillance, but he hasn’t showed. The guess is that he’s left on another job. We have no idea where.”

  Sid sat in his chair and leaned back. “Are you thinking he may be headed back here?”

  “I have no way of knowing, but considering what else I learned today, I thought I should make you aware of the possibility.”

  “Okay,” Sid said. “Give me the what else.”

  “Don’t even think about breathing a word of this, Sid. Detective Ramsey Kozlov is the target of a current investigation involving the same drug outfit that hit Delgado. I don’t know if your tip had anything to do with it. But based on what you told me, I’d say there’s a possibility that Kozlov coul
d’ve steered this guy onto you.”

  “So you do think he might be headed for Nashville.”

  “I think it’s possible. He also could be headed for Peoria.”

  “I suppose I’d better summon the cavalry.”

  “I wish we could do something,” Eggers said, sounding apologetic. “Without any hard evidence that he’s headed here, we couldn’t commit any assets to watching for him. But be careful. A guy like this researches his targets. With the Internet, he could know all about you.”

  And if I had a name, I’d know all about him, Sid thought. But he had no name. No description of what he’d look like away from home. Nothing.

  Chapter 34

  Sid pulled the Sig from its holster, ejected the magazine, checked the dozen .40 S&W cartridges, and shoved the magazine back into the gun. Eggers’ warning had been clear. If Ramsey Kozlov had passed word along to Delgado’s killer that PI Sid Chance had him as a target, the hired assassin could be looking to remove the threat. As he thought about the man’s use of disguises, he recalled the old codger who had asked to use his telephone when he was leaving the office earlier. The gloves could have been used to hide smooth, younger hands. The voice would have been no problem for a skilled actor. And the chronograph would have been a natural for someone accustomed to split-second timing.

  He walked down the hallway to the office where he had directed the man. The receptionist, an attractive Oriental with odd-looking glasses that turned up into points on the ends, smiled as he entered.

  “How’s the sleuthing business these days?” she asked.

  “It’s like turning over rocks to see what’s underneath.”

  “When I do that I find black widow spiders.”

  Sid grimaced. “Unfortuntely, I sometimes turn up characters like that. Did an old gentleman with a cane come in here to use the phone a few hours ago?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Not while I was here.”

  “I just wondered. He stopped me on the way out and I suggested you’d let him use yours.”

  “Would’ve been happy to, but he didn’t come in here.”