“Wrong number,” is all I say.
It is approaching one o’clock and Franny must have heard my stomach growling. There is no chance we can dine in Taku, so I send him to Sofia’s Pizza, which isn’t a far walk from our location.
Franny looks at me, smiling. “Do you want me to get shot now?”
I suddenly remember the last time I tried to get a pie. It turned into a living hell. “I know. Weird, right?” I say as Franny agrees to pick up my usual focaccia slice and iced tea.
I am happy to be working with someone I can completely trust.
As I sit alone in my Jeep, I am reminded how fucked up my life has become. I was a great kid born into a good family. I couldn’t have asked for a better kid brother. And the fact we are working together is the icing on the cake. Franny always wanted to be just like me when we were young. It pains me to think he might get hurt protecting me when I reveal to him the truth about Donny.
Donny is a scumbag. I had failed to see that from the beginning. I always try to see the good in everyone, but I was blinded by my own desire to make detective. My life is still in danger but thanks to Cynthia, at least I know my enemy. I want to call her so bad to hear her voice. I still can’t believe she came to my house this morning with such terrible news. She was smart to pick an early hour so there was no chance of being seen.
Franny is walking back to the car wearing khaki shorts, a blue tank top, and flip-flops. His blue New York Mets hat is pulled backwards, exposing his black curls. “I think I saw a gray hair, Franny.”
Franny uses my back tire and roll bar to leap into the passenger seat. “Yah right. You’re the old man, pal.” Franny smiles as we tear into lunch like a couple of jackals.
“He’s on the move,” I say, catching a glimpse of Kepler as he exits his building. He is wearing long black pants and a striped long sleeve pink button down tucked nicely into his pants.
Franny jumps out of the Jeep to follow the guy on foot. I guess lunch will have to wait. The plan is for me to stay back in case Kepler jumps into a car.
Kepler enters Taku. Franny is on the hunt, paying close attention to look as inconspicuous as possible. I am impressed by his natural ability to surveil someone, especially since we don’t often get the opportunity. There are several mom-and-pop variety businesses along Main Street. Franny ducks into Hutchville’s only jewelry store directly across the street from Taku. He has a bird’s eye view of the restaurant and will be able to pick up Leonard whichever direction he takes. All we need is something—anything—with Kepler’s DNA attached to it.
After five minutes, Kepler emerges carrying a small brown bag and a bottle of water. He walks past his apartment, continuing west on Main Street. Franny exits the jewelry store at the same time with a small white bag. I can’t believe the prick actually bought something while on surveillance. Franny keeps a distance from Kepler and walks holding his cell phone up to his ear making it look like he is on a call. Kepler crosses the street, narrowly missing being hit by a B-Line bus. Thankfully there is plenty of pedestrian traffic to camouflage my brother. I exit my car and follow from a farther distance on the opposite side of the street.
I can see Franny in the distance about fifty yards to the west. He indicates that Kepler is drinking from the water bottle. Where is this guy going dressed up on this ninety-degree day? It appears as though he might be heading for the small park about a hundred yards down Main Street. I am guessing maybe this guy is scoping out a new target while enjoying his lunch.
One way or another, this bastard’s days are numbered. As long as I can document this case to the fullest, Kepler will enter a jail cell.
I hurry along Main Street. Franny calls my cell phone to inform me that Kepler has gone into Schwartz’s toy store across from the park with the water bottle and food in tow. Franny takes up a position at the park. I want to get a better look at the water bottle to identify it in case it is discarded in the trash. I walk into Schwartz’s Toy Store and pretend to look around. It is a small store, approximately two thousand square feet and has all the newest toys a kid could dream about.
Mr. Schwartz keeps all his classic toys from my childhood era at the back of the store. He has the best classic toy collection I have ever seen. He has every toy from the seventies and eighties in pristine condition. I had these toys as a kid and am shocked to see them after all these years. Their values have skyrocketed. These days you can’t find them anywhere but eBay. I can hear voices in the back of the store and recognize Mr. Schwartz. I don’t want the old man to see me because it would have turned into twenty questions.
The voices stop. When Kepler walks my way, I busy myself behind a stuffed animal collection. He is so short. I have a hard time envisioning him winning in a fight with Ms. Burton. There is a small wastebasket next to the entryway. Kepler drops his water bottle into the trash, oblivious to me staring at him. He exits the store and heads across the street towards Franny and the park. I have a small brown evidence bag rolled up in my back pocket with a plastic glove. I put on the powdered glove and grasp the water bottle by the bottom, placing it carefully in the paper bag then securing it with red evidence tape. There would be no room for errors of contamination on this piece of proof.
Mr. Schwartz walks out of the back room. He sees me package the bag and inquires as to what is going on. I think fast on my feet. “Hey, Mr. Schwartz, how are you doing?”
“Matt Longo, I haven’t seen you in years. How are your parents? They spent a lot of money on you two boys here in this store when you were little.”
“I know. I was interested in your classic space toys. I haven’t seen them in years. Do you mind if I take a peek?” I walk into the back room with Mr. Schwartz where a transforming robot toy stands on the counter. “Wow, Mr. Schwartz, Franny loved this exact toy. He would get a laugh out of seeing that one.”
Mr. Schwartz smiles like I am the same boy who could barely reach the glass countertop. “The gentleman who was just in here has the largest collection this side of the Mississippi River.”
I play my enthusiastic part well while making my way towards the exit and completely helping him forget about my trash-snatching.
Outside, Franny is hiking back down Main towards my car. Kepler is seated in the park on a green bench enjoying his white container of Taku. I meet Franny at my car.
“Mission complete,” I say as I get within hearing distance of my kid brother. “Hey, Franny, what the hell did you buy in the jewelry store?”
“I bought Mom a birthday present, you putz. Did you get her anything yet?”
“Franny, let’s stay focused on Kepler, okay?”
Franny looks at me and blasts back, “Tell me you didn’t look at those toy space ships again, you liar.”
“I am almost thirty; I don’t even remember what ships you’re referring to.” I am busted and the little prick knows it.
I call the Captain to let him know about Kepler and the water bottle. We are ordered to bring the precious cargo to the lab instantly for analysis. We jump on the highway and cruise at sixty-five, paying close attention to the wind in our faces. The engine and wind noise make it difficult to have a conversation. For a moment, I forget about being betrayed by my partner and enjoy my time with Franny. He would be back to patrol after this assignment but if I had my way, we would be partners for life.
Chapter Seventeen: Footsteps
Leonard Kepler is excited to say the least. After his return from the
toy shop, he calls his mother in Florida. “I have great news, Mother.” “Leonard, my darling, how’s New York?”
“I have found the toy I have been scouring the internet for.”
“That’s wonderful. How is school?” Leonard’s mother is eighty-
eight and has Alzheimer’s. She thinks Leonard is in grade school. His stature and interest in his toy collection don’t help the situation. Beatrice Kepler had been a schoolteacher for almost forty years. Her husband, Arthur, passed away when Leonard was only thirteen from a massive
heart attack. Leonard lived with her in Queens, N.Y. until Beatrice’s younger sister Rose invited her to Sarasota, Florida, to reside full time. Leonard objected to the move but lost the battle to his Aunt Rose.
“Leonard, who is your teacher this year?”
“Mother, I am a grown man.”
“Oh my little Leonard, you are too funny. Rose and I are going to the club. Talk to you soon, my precious.”
If there is anything Leonard hates, it is being called little. Since elementary school, he had to endure torture from his peers. For Leonard, the girls he went to school with bullied him more so than the boys. Leonard hates all women for the pain caused during childhood. Even when he walked around today, he felt their eyes scanning him, sizing up his small stature, and ending with a crude joke. He thinks about his last victim and how hard he fucked her for all the pain they had caused him. Leonard is just getting warmed up. Although he regrets the clumsiness of his last conquest, he got away with it and that gives him confidence to try it again. He is already planning another and just the thought of it makes him hornier than ever. He spends enough time sitting on the bench in the park to know that there are women of all sizes and shapes, ready for his taking. They are barely watching their children. Leonard laughs to himself, thinking about how chaotic they would become if he took one of their children. How would they explain that to their husbands? But Leonard isn’t into kids; it is their mommies he so desires.
****
From the outside, the Westchester County Lab is concrete and in desperate need of repair. You are buzzed in the front door and side door before making your way into an open area with a large counter. All evidence needs to be recorded properly as the chain of custody is very important for trial. A defense attorney is looking for the smallest screw-up and, believe me, you do not want it to be yours.
John Clemons is the evidence processor for the laboratory. He handles guns, drugs, DNA entries, fingerprints—you name it. I am pleased to see no other jurisdictions inside, so I know this won’t take long. John is awaiting our arrival, as the captain phoned to alert the lab that we had important evidence for analysis. The back office door opens. An older woman enters. She identifies herself as Katherine Collins, the DNA examiner. Katherine is tall, almost six feet, and very put together for someone in her fifties.
Franny whispers, “Cougar” as she gets closer.
I have to hold in my laughter.
“I just got off the phone with Captain Grassio about your special delivery,” she says in a sultry voice that belongs on late-night radio.
I answer immediately, “Yes ma’am, we followed the suspect this morning.”
“Excellent work, detectives. I will be starting on this immediately. Your Captain is very persuasive.”
“Thank you,” I say as Katherine leaves, wasting no time on small talk. “John, take care, we will see you soon.”
Franny and I drive back to headquarters.
“Where the fuck is Donny on this case?” Franny asks.
“I don’t know, man; he’s got a lot on his mind,” I say, trying to sound normal.
I can’t talk to Franny about my shooting yet or my visit from Agent Shyler. I just want to enjoy this day and the way this case is heading.
****
Donny sits across from young Jessica Burton. His cell phone vibrates on his belt. The horrific ordeal is still visible on her bruised face and swollen lips. He doesn’t even flinch as the call goes to voicemail.
Ms. Burton’s parents flank both sides of her on the Italian leather sofa in their enormous house. The home is spectacular and vast, consisting of thirteen bedrooms. There is a light marble entryway with an enormous double staircase covered in gold within the two-story entryway. The ceiling height has to be almost thirty feet in this mansion built for the mega-rich. William and Jennifer Burton seem like responsible parents, but living it up in the Hamptons all summer while your eighteen-year-old daughter is savagely raped is questionable.
Donny reads Ms. Burton the rules of picking then shows her the six-pack lineup. Her eyes fill up with tears, but she refuses to cry and become angry. She instantly picks picture number three.
The photograph of Leonard Kepler is a confirmed hit. Donny immediately calls Captain Grassio with the good news. Donny is happy. His urge to kill Leonard Kepler is ripe, but he knows he will not be able to get away with the murder of this rapist unless somehow he finishes off his partner, making it look like Leonard Kepler killed Detective Matt Longo.
Donny’s motor is running on high. Ideas of how to make this happen flash like lightning in his mind. It would be an easy out for him personally. He is too distraught from the death of his partner that he can’t perform anymore. Donny will resign and head to Italy for the life that awaits his arrival. There would be no investigation. It would be the perfect crime.
****
As Franny and I head back to headquarters, the feeling of the case being out of our hands is troublesome. All we can do now is wait for Katherine’s call. The time approaches four in the afternoon. Franny’s tour is over, so I drop him off at his Land Rover, reminding him about tonight—eight o’clock sharp—before driving off and parking in the rear lot of headquarters.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Chris Finley approaching. He is smoking a short brown cigar. “Hey, Matt, how’s it going, brother?”
“Chris Woo, how are you pal?”
“Did I do good with the shirt thing?”
“Chris, you did awesome, man. It was the find of your career.”
“Thanks, bro. Are you heading inside?”
“I am going to make a call. I’ll be in soon, thanks.”
Chris walks in the back door carrying his gun belt over his shoulder. I laugh as he enters the building, thinking about how we came upon the shirt. I call Donny to see how he is making out with the six-pack line up but notice I have no cell service. With all the interference from the police radios and communications center, our cell phones do not work very well around headquarters.
Deciding that the call can wait, I head towards the back door of headquarters. At that moment, a car comes up behind me. I am surprised to see Donny pull in and park next to my car. I deliberate, then decide to wait for him to hear the results of his interview with Jessica.
“I called you this morning, Matt. What happened with Kepler?”
“We snagged his water bottle. How did you do with Jessica?”
“She identified Kepler immediately. Hey, Matt, do you want to go out for some beers tonight?”
“Nah, I’m tired, man. I feel like I am coming down with something. Didn’t you say you had a wake to go to?”
I obviously catch Donny off-guard. He must have forgotten the line of crap he fed the Captain earlier about going to a wake. Only I know that he is really meeting with Fabrizio to plan my demise. I sure as hell am not going to let that happen.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me, bro,” Donny says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Does he know I am on to him?
Donny walks into headquarters, aiming for our office as I go towards the Captain’s.
Captain Grassio is sitting in his chair staring at his phone. “Matt, incredible job today. I knew you and Franny could do this.”
“Franny was amazing on surveillance. Kepler never saw us coming.”
“I can’t wait for Katherine to call with the results of the testing. The waiting is killing me. I have the district attorney’s office writing up the search warrant for Kepler’s residence.”
“Awesome, Cap, not bad for my first week back, huh?”
“And to think you were contemplating retirement. I would have ordered you back, you know! There is no way I am losing you or Franny.” He leans back and crosses his legs. “I don’t know if you noticed, but does Donny seem a little off?”
“I was asking myself the same thing, Cap. Just didn’t know how to bring it up.”
“Very strange. I guess he’s still torn up about his grandfather.”
&n
bsp; “I don’t know, but he seems different to me,” I say, trying not to be obvious.
“Keep an eye on him. Let me know if you think he’s losing it.”
“You got it, Cap; I am heading home till tomorrow then.” I go outside to my car. It is nice to be in my plainclothes with the warm sun washing over me.
Chapter Eighteen: Disclosure
Stress is a silent killer. My father endured years of financial stress, especially when Franny and I went away to college. His demeanor could change in an instant. I once saw him wig out after getting a credit card bill in the mail. I was too young to know my mother had racked up some credit card debt. My father thought it was all paid off and then learned about one bill my mother was hiding from him. My pops didn’t need a paper shredder; he tore this bill to shreds.
This situation I find myself in is a hell of a lot more serious than a credit card bill. I already know what it feels like to be shot. I’m not allowing that to happen again. I am looking forward to seeking revenge, but I need Franny. I arrive home at a quarter to five. I walk into my lobby and find a package outside my door. It is a legal size manila envelope sealed with tape. It has my name on it but nothing else. I am guessing it is from Cynthia, but I still hold it up to my ear to make sure it isn’t ticking.
I open my door and walk inside my apartment. I close the door quickly, remembering I am being watched. I open the envelope carefully and find several color photographs with a note written by Agent Shyler. This woman has been in my lobby again today. She must dig me. Why would someone go out of their way to supply me with information that could potentially save my life and ruin her case at the same time?
The letter states that the FBI is bringing Donny in for questioning on an “unrelated matter.” Cynthia wants me to know in case that speeds up some sort of unfinished business directed at yours truly. I feel uncomfortable about this but completely powerless. A feeling of dread comes upon me as I flip carefully through the photographs, recognizing Donny with two men. It is shocking to see these pictures are marked with today’s date. Donny is wearing the suit he had on this morning and is sitting at a table in what I recognize as Marcello’s Restaurant on Franklin Avenue. He had said he was going to a wake tonight. What a fucking liar my partner and friend has become. There I was, worrying about him in Italy. All the while he was planning to come back to kill me.
In A Small Town (A Small Town Series Book 1) Page 13
