Beneath The Surface

by Glenn, Roy

  “What’s wrong, Margaret? Did something happen?”

  “Finch came by here late last night. He knows that I talked to you,” Margaret said and hung up the phone.

  “Well?” Mitchell asked.

  “She’s too scared to come in. She said that Finch knows that she talked to me.”

  “You know anybody else who might be able to identify her?”

  For a second, Carmen considered going to Jada West to see if see could identify the other body; but since she was with a cop, Carmen decided to go in a different direction. “I’m sure any one of the dancers that I talked to could identify the body.”

  “Okay. That works for me.”

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that both of these women disappeared on or around the same day, and both of them end up getting strangled; and that they both used to work at Lace with Tangela House,” Carmen said.

  “Like I said, I don’t believe in coincidences. There is definitely a connection between these two and Tangela House.”

  “I agree,” Carmen said.

  “That’s why you’re going to tell me what Jeanette Winters said to you last night.”

  “Huh?”

  Mitchell smiled at Carmen. “You know, daddy always told me, if you can huh, you can hear.” Carmen smiled at Mitchell. “Come on, Carmen. By now, it should be apparent that I saw the same thing in the video that you saw. Jeanette Winters going to an area that led to the stairs that led to the office. And even though Aneisha Perry, the gallery director, lied to my face to protect her friend, and said she never saw the woman before—I’m a cop, so I still found her.”

  “I knew you would,” Carmen said.

  “I had her under surveillance. I was waiting for the husband to come back from his business trip. Funny thing is: my officer saw you come out, but he didn’t remember seeing you go in.”

  “Oh,” Carmen said quietly, and thought about Black and the advice he gave Mrs. Winters.

  “So, you wanna tell me what you talked about?” Mitchell asked as Carmen’s cell beeped to let her know that she had a message.

  Carmen reached in her purse and took out her phone. “It’s from Margaret. It says: Valerie Hudson. Now I’ve got one with a picture.” Carmen looked at the picture and showed it to Mitchell.

  “That’s her, Valerie Hudson,” Mitchell said and wrote the name down. “Now tell me what Mrs. Winters told you, Carmen.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Carmen knew that she would have to tell the detective something; just exactly what that would be, was another matter. At this point, she was worried that the officer that saw her leaving the building recognized Black.

  “I went to her apartment, but if she was there, she wouldn’t open the door,” Carmen said calmly.

  “Why didn’t you mention that you went there?”

  “I didn’t see any reason to. What was I gonna say; I went by there and didn’t talk to her?”

  “Yes.” Mitchell looked frustrated. “How did you find her?”

  “After we got our footage back, me and Max reviewed it and we didn’t see anything; so I talked to the security chief at the gallery. He showed me their footage and he recognized her; called her ‘a real patron of the arts.’ I asked him if you had been there, and he said that you had talked to Aneisha Perry.”

  “And even with all that, you still didn’t think it was worth mentioning?”

  “Like you said, I saw the same thing in the video that you saw,” Carmen said and her cell phone rang. She looked at the display but did recognize the number. “I need to take this, detective.” It didn’t matter who was calling, Carmen needed to get the detective off of her, if only for a minute. “This is Carmen.”

  “Hello Carmen.” It was Black. “How are you?”

  Carmen got up and walked to the room. “I’m fine. Glad you called,” Carmen said quietly. “What are you doing?”

  “Sitting here with Michelle; looking at the Caribbean Sea.”

  “You’re in Nassau?” Carmen asked and sounded dejected.

  “Yes. I left early this morning. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s fine. I just missed Michelle.”

  “I missed you too, Daddy,” Michelle said, and Carmen melted.

  “I’m taking her out on the boat fishing in the morning.”

  “You hate fishing,” Carmen said.

  “Yeah, but she loves it,” Black said, and left out the fact that CeCe loves fishing, too, and it was her that got Michelle into it. “What are you doing?” Black asked to get off the subject.

  “I’m at the police station talking to Detective Mitchell.”

  “Then I’ll let you go.”

  “When are you coming back?”

  “Soon,” Black said and ended the call.

  Carmen put her phone away and rejoined the detective. Mitchell looked at Carmen when she sat down.

  “Sorry, I had to take that,” Carmen said.

  “That’s another thing. How long have you known him?”

  “Who?”

  “Mike Black,” Mitchell said and leaned forward. “That was him on the phone, wasn’t it?” Carmen didn’t answer. “And that was definitely him my officer saw coming out of Jeannette Winters’s building with you.”

  Carmen smiled. “I’ve known Mike Black for a long time. We used to date,” she paused, “before I became a model.”

  “What are you doing with him now?”

  “I hadn’t seen him in seventeen years, until a few days ago. We just ran into each other at a restaurant.”

  “What was he doing at the Winters’s?”

  “He helped me find her. But considering that they might be murderers, he didn’t want me going there by myself. ”

  “How did he know where to find her?”

  “He made a phone call. I didn’t ask him who he was calling.”

  Mitchell had only heard some stories about Mike Black, but she was concerned about Carmen hanging around with a man like him. Mitchell knew that her new partner, Detective Harmon had just transferred in from the Bronx, so she asked him about Black.

  “Whether those stories were true or not, as far as I know, right now, Mike Black is a legitimate businessman,” Harmon told her. “But if you really wanna know about Mike Black, there’s a detective named Kirk that you need to talk to.”

  “You think he’s involved in your case?” Kirk had asked when they had talked.

  “No,” Mitchell told him. She had told the stakeout officer not to mention his seeing Mike Black with Carmen to anybody. “Just curious.”

  What Harmon didn’t tell her, was about his association to Mike Black. Harmon wasn’t on the payroll but he did do favors for Nick, for which he was well paid. He’d prided himself on the fact that he hadn’t done anything illegal for Nick, and that was how he intended to keep it. But his explanation seemed to satisfy his partner.

  “All I gotta say about it is, be careful with him, Carmen.”

  “I’m always careful, detective.”

  “Now,” Mitchell got up and took her gun out of the drawer, “you wanna go with me to Staten Island to see if you can get your friend Margaret to talk to me?”

  “Sure,” Carmen said and grabbed her bag.

  After taking another ride to Staten Island, Carmen and Mitchell arrived at Margaret’s apartment. Since she hadn’t told Carmen where she lived, Margaret was surprised when she looked out and saw her standing there with another woman. She started to be quiet; let Carmen knock on the door, and hoped that she would go away. When Mitchell started banging and identified herself as a cop, Margaret opened the door. “Margaret Fortini.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Detective Mitchell. And you know Carmen Taylor. I need to ask you some questions about Valerie Hudson and Cecelia Cunningham. Can I come in?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not really,” Mitchell said.

  “Then come on in,”
Margaret said and led them into her living room. “What you wanna ask me?”

  “Did you see Valerie Hudson on the same day that you saw Cecelia Cunningham with Finch?”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have talked to you,” Margaret said and looked at Carmen. “Finch is gonna kill me.”

  “Talk to me,” Mitchell demanded. “Did you see Valerie Hudson that day?”

  “No, I didn’t see Vallie that day.”

  “Is there any way she could have been there, and you not have known she was there?” Mitchell pressed.

  “Sure, it’s possible. I could have been away from my desk, or somebody coulda let her in another door.”

  “You told Carmen that Finch was very upset that night before you left.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you remember what he was mad about?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I talked to a customer that was real mad because he didn’t get what he paid for. He was yellin’ and screamin’ at me about how he was gonna cause trouble, if he didn’t get what he paid for. When I told Finch who I was fussin’ with, he got on the phone with him. He was pissed and cussin’ after that.”

  “Do you remember what the customer’s name was, Miss Fortini?”

  “It was something common, like Smith or Jones. We had a lot of customers named Smith and Jones; especially the ones that got special orders.”

  “What time did you take that call from alias Smith or Jones?”

  “I know it was after six.”

  “You can’t be more specific then that?”

  “No. I was supposed to be outta there by six; otherwise, I’ll miss my train, which I did that night.”

  “So Finch takes the call; gets mad. How long after that did Cecelia Cunningham come in?”

  “’Bout ten minutes,” Margaret said, and Mitchell got up. Carmen followed her to the door. “Thank you, Miss Fortini. You’ve been a big help.”

  “What about Finch? Suppose he come after me again?”

  “He can’t hurt you when he’s in jail,” Mitchell said and let herself out.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  During the ride back to Manhattan, Mitchell gave Carmen some more details about Crème and Vallie. She explained that Crème’s body had been in the dumpster for at least a week before it was found; so the coroner could only estimate the time of death. According to the eyewitness, Vallie was hit by the car at 11:15; the same night that Crème went off with Finch.

  “So what happens now?” Carmen asked.

  “I’ll get a court order and pull the LUDs for that number; see if I can narrow down who this Mr. Smith, or Jones, that made that call.”

  “I don’t mean to sound stupid, but what are LUDs. I mean, I hear the term in every cop show on TV, but I never knew what it meant.”

  “LUD stands for local usage details. It’s a detailed record of local calls made and received from a particular phone number. If you want some history, review Title III of the 1968 Omnibus Crime Control and Safe Streets Act. It says that law enforcement officials can obtain these records with a court order, provided there is enough reasonable cause to suspect that the communication equipment was material to a specific crime; and were traditionally subject to the same restrictions as telephone tapping. LUDs may be legally used by the police without first obtaining a warrant, as determined by Smith v. Maryland in 1979. But I like to have all my ducks in a row, so I’ll get a court order. I know a judge I can wake up,” Mitchell said. The next day, Mitchell had the information she wanted. And then she called Carmen on her cell.

  “There was only one call made to that number after six. The number is registered to a Thaddeus Jones,” Mitchell said. “I’m going by there now. You wanna ride?”

  “Of course I do,” Carmen said.

  “Where are you?”

  “At the station.”

  “I’m on my way,” Mitchell said as she drove. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

  As promised, the detective picked up Carmen and they headed out to Long Island. On the way, Carmen asked Mitchell why she was bringing her along. Carmen knew the detective could have just gone out there and not even mentioned it to her.

  “Two reasons: one I already told you. Remember, I told you that I understood what it was like to have the men you work with and for, not to take you seriously because you’re a woman.”

  “You said two reasons. What’s the second?”

  When they arrived at the Jones’s residence, a very nice home in Glen Cove, Mitchell rang the bell. An older woman in her late sixties answered the door.

  “Can I help you, ladies?”

  “Yes,” Mitchell began. “We’re looking for Thaddeus Jones. Is he here?”

  The woman looked at Mitchell and Carmen and began to cry. This seemed to annoy the detective. “Stop that damn cryin’ and answer my question.”

  Carmen touched Mitchell on the shoulder and stepped in front of her. “Are you all right, honey?” she said in a comforting voice.

  The woman gathered herself. “Thaddeus is dead,” she said through tears. “He was my husband.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Carmen said. She put her arm around Mrs. Jones and led her in the house. Mitchell rolled her eyes and followed Carmen in the house. “What happened to your husband?” she asked.

  “He died two months ago of an inoperable brain tumor.”

  “Mrs. Jones, you have my deepest sympathy,” Carmen said.

  For the next half-hour, Carmen comforted the widow and listened as she spoke of what a good man her husband was. The longer it went on, the more restless the detective became. Finally, she couldn’t take sitting there any longer. “Can I get you something to drink? Some water maybe?”

  “Yes, thank you. That would be nice. The kitchen is right through there,” Mrs. Jones said and pointed.

  Mitchell got up and headed in that direction. Once she was out of sight, the detective took a quick looked around to familiarize herself with the layout of the ground floor. Then she went in the kitchen and got Mrs. Jones a glass of ice water.

  “Here you go, ma’am,” Mitchell said and sat down.

  Mrs. Jones took a sip of the water and continued telling stories of her husband’s days in Vietnam. A few minutes later Mitchell asked where the bathroom was. Once again, Mrs. Jones pointed her in the right direction, and the detective was gone. This time she searched room to room, not knowing what she was looking for, but looking for everything at the same time.

  Soon after Mitchell left the room, the widow got up and walked over to the fireplace. “This is him the day he was promoted to lieutenant commander.” Mrs. Jones handed the picture to Carmen. “That’s him,” she said and pointed proudly to her husband.

  When Carmen looked at the picture, she had the strangest feeling that she had seen the man in the picture with Mr. Jones. “Who’s that in the picture with your husband?” she asked.

  “That’s Captain Terry Redding. They served together for years in Vietnam and Cambodia.” Then Mrs. Jones asked the question that Carmen had been waiting for, and wondered why she hadn’t asked already. “I never did ask your name or what you wanted with my husband?”

  “My name is Carmen Taylor; and I’m an investigative reporter for channel five,” Carmen said, trying out the title for the first time. She liked the way she sounded saying it, and knew it would be the last time.

  “What did you want to talk to my husband about, Miss Taylor?”

  “Do you know if your late husband knew a man named Peter Finch?” Carmen asked.

  “Not that I can think of. Of course, I had very little to do with Thaddeus’s business associates,” Mrs. Jones said, and Mitchell returned to the room.

  “Did you find everything all right?”

  “Yes, yes, I did,” Mitchell answered, although she hadn’t found anything of interest during her search.

  “Maybe if I knew what type of business this gentleman was in, perhaps I could help you.”

  Carmen looked at the detectiv
e. “Mr. Finch was a filmmaker. I was thinking that maybe Mr. Finch produced a commercial or a documentary for your husband’s business,” Mitchell said.

  Mrs. Jones looked at Mitchell and then to Carmen. “No, I don’t remember Thaddeus ever mentioning anything like that. But here again, I, as a rule, left the business affairs to Thaddeus.”

  Mitchell got up. “I think we’ve intruded on Mrs. Jones long enough; don’t you think so, Carmen?”

  “Yes.” Carmen stood up. “And once again, you have my deepest sympathy for your loss.” Carmen took out one of her business cards. “If you think of anything, or you just need somebody to talk to, please call me.” Mrs. Jones accepted the card, got up, and started for the door. That’s when Carmen saw it. As Mrs. Jones and the detective walked toward the door, Carmen drifted toward a picture on the wall. “Is this a more recent picture of Mr. Jones?” she asked.

  Mrs. Jones stopped and turned toward Carmen. “Yes. It was taken last year at Terry’s reelection party.”

  Now she recognized him. “This is Congressman Redding; the same one that he served with in the war.”

  “That’s right,” Mrs. Jones said and continued toward the door. But now Carmen remembered where she had seen him before. She saw him when she was looking at Tangela House’s stuff. Carmen remembered walking to the mirror, when she noticed a newspaper clipping hanging there. It was a picture of Congressman Terrance Redding, and an article about proposed legislation that would bring investment to his western New York district.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  It’s no secret that the Bahamas has some of the best sports fishing you’ll find anywhere in the world. The waters that surround Bahamas 700 islands are teeming with the most prized game fish. But that wasn’t the purpose of the outing that day.

  Having loaded everything they were taking, Black walked hand in hand to the boat with Michelle. She had her little fishing rod in her hand and she couldn’t be happier.

  Once they got out to sea, CeCe and Michelle got setup for a day of fishing. Black broke out a bottle of homemade Bahama Mama, and found a good spot to enjoy the view of the Caribbean Sea, Michelle having a good time, and CeCe in her white bikini.