Alone with the Dead

by Robert J. Randisi

  Dolan frowned. "You said on the phone you wanted to talk about Len Swann's murder?"

  "I do, I do, but I'd like to start with Slovecky."

  "Why should I talk to you about my boss-our boss, since starting tomorrow you're part of the squad. Are you a clerical?"

  "No, why?"

  "That's what Slovecky said he wanted, a clerical to replace Swann."

  "Well, I'm not a clerical. Did Slovecky ask for me specifically, Sarge?"

  Dolan studied Keough, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to answer the question.

  "As a matter of fact, he did."

  "Now why would he do that?"

  "I don't know; maybe you'd like to tell me. Tell me something, anyway."

  "Okay," Keough said, "but I'd rather do some asking before I do any telling."

  Dolan rubbed his hand over his face and thought about that, then looked down at his half-eaten burger.

  "You've got until I finish this to get to the point," he said finally. "After that…"

  "That's fair."

  Before he could start, though, the bartender came back with his food and beer.

  "That's quick service."

  "That's one of the reasons I eat here," Dolan said. "Now I'd appreciate some quick service from you. Give."

  Keough's mouth was watering now that the burger had arrived, but he decided to give Dolan something before he took the time to chew.

  "Do you think there are any discrepancies among the Lover cases you fellas are working on?"

  Dolan gave Keough a slow look, during which the detective took a bite of his hamburger. It was bad, but he was hungry.

  "What do you mean 'discrepancies'?"

  "Specifically between the Manhattan and Brooklyn cases?"

  "What's your interest?"

  "I caught the first Brooklyn killing."

  Dolan sat up straighter.

  "Now I remember your name."

  "There were differences I noticed right on the spot, Sarge, but before I could do anything the case was referred to the task force-wrongly, I think."

  Dolan had stuffed the last of his burger into his mouth, and he was chewing slowly.

  "Then came the second Brooklyn case, and again there were differences, but that one was referred to the squad, as well-again, wrongly."

  "You thought."

  "And I still do."

  "And what did Swann have to do with anything?"

  "Swannie agreed with me," Keough said. "We talked about it that last night, before he was killed."

  "And?"

  "He had a duplicate file, and it wasn't found at the scene."

  "A duplicate file?" Dolan said. "If Slovecky knew that, he would have skinned him alive."

  "Maybe he did know."

  "What?"

  "Maybe Slovecky knew about the file."

  "What are you saying? That Slovecky killed Swann to get the file? That's crazy."

  "That's what I'm here to find out from you, Sarge," Keough said. "Is it crazy?"

  "Of course it is."

  "Did Swann ever talk to Slovecky about the differences in the cases?"

  Dolan frowned. "Once, I think."

  "After the note?"

  Dolan looked surprised. "You know about the note?"

  Keough nodded. "Swann told me."

  "Jesus, if Slovecky knew that…"

  "What happened when Swann questioned Slovecky."

  "The loo put him in his place and explained away Swann's remarks."

  "Did he explain them away to your satisfaction?"

  Dolan hesitated, then said, "His explanations made sense."

  "You accepted them?"

  "He's the boss, Keough."

  "Didn't you look into them yourself?"

  "Why should I?"

  "You're second whip."

  Dolan laughed derisively. "That doesn't mean a thing to Slovecky. He runs the squad alone."

  "So if he wants to suppress evidence, nobody questions him?"

  "Why would they? He's the boss."

  Dolan took some money out of his pocket and tossed it on the bar.

  "If you're going to work in the task force, you better get used to that."

  "So you don't think that Swann's death had anything to do with the Lover case?"

  "I wouldn't know," Dolan said impatiently. "I'm not investigating Swann's case."

  "And what about me?" Keough asked. "I was the last person to see Swann alive, and all of a sudden Slovecky asks for me to be reassigned to the task force?"

  "Maybe he just thought you were the best man for the job."

  "He doesn't even know me, Sarge."

  "Yeah, well… like I told you, he runs the squad."

  "With an iron hand?"

  "That's right." He picked up his glass and drained the last of his beer.

  Keough thought he could see now why Slovecky had picked Dolan as second whip. Slovecky seemed to have an ulterior motive for everything he did.

  "I see."

  "No," Dolan said, slamming the empty glass down on the bar, "you don't see. You don't get anywhere on this job, Keough, by bucking the system. What do you care if the Lover gets convicted for two more murders?"

  "I care because then the real killer of those two girls goes free."

  Dolan stared at Keough for a few moments, then looked away uncomfortably. He got off the stool, picked up his coat from the stool next to him, and started putting it on.

  "I'm going to do you a favor, Keough."

  "What's that?"

  "I'm going to pretend this meeting never happened."

  Keough turned on his stool and watched Dolan leave, then turned back and took a thoughtful sip of his Watney's. It was much better than the burger. In the end, he finished the beer, left half the burger, and headed home feeling that not much had been accomplished by talking to Dolan-except possibly to have the man watching him from the moment he walked into the task force office.

  When he got home, he took a John Courage out of the refrigerator and sat in the living room with it. It was better than the Watney's, but not by much. At least he'd discovered a new beer tonight.

  He'd also discovered-or rediscovered-what he had known all along: The attitude of most cops was still "don't rock the boat." Swann had been the only one willing to do a little of it, and now he was gone and Keough was alone again.

  Keough still had one thing he wanted to find out, and maybe he could do it early in the morning before reporting to the task force. He wanted to know how Dan Slovecky had managed to get himself assigned as the CO of the task force. From what he'd discovered over the past two days, it was fairly obvious that Slovecky had something on somebody. All he had to find out was who the recommendation had come from and then maybe he'd be able to get something on Slovecky.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It was raining Monday morning when Keough left at 7:45, a miserable gray drizzle. He turned up the collar of his raincoat, but while he waited for the bus, the water seemed to seep down the back of his neck, anyway. Before getting on the train, he bought a container of coffee and drank it on the way.

  He'd only ridden the subway to Manhattan a few times since moving to Brooklyn, and never at this hour. Now he looked around at the bored faces of the people who made this trip at this time of day, every day. He didn't think he would like to do this every day. It would be interesting to see where he ended up after this task force assignment was over. Would he end up back in the Six-Seven? That would probably depend on Slovecky and whether or not the lieutenant was in a position to control that.

  Even if Slovecky wasn't Swann's killer, it was clear to Keough that he had mishandled the whole Lover investigation. If he could just prove that and get the Brooklyn cases investigated separately, he'd be happy. As for Swann's murder-well, if the task force wasn't involved, there was really very little he could do about it.

  When he had returned home last night, there had been one message on his phone, from Marcia Swann. He really didn't want to talk to he
r, but he hadn't the heart to ignore her, either. So he returned her call.

  ***

  "Joe," she said when she answered, "what's going on?"

  "What do you mean, Marcia?"

  "What have you found out? What have you done so far?"

  "Marcia…"

  "Don't tell me you can't work on this, Joe," she said, cutting him off. "Maybe you don't know this, but Len was the easygoing partner in this marriage. I'm a bitch when I want something, and I want this, Joe."

  An idea occurred to Keough at that moment.

  "I wasn't going to tell you that, Marcia. What I was going to tell you is that I managed to get myself assigned to the task force to fill Len's spot."

  "Why did you do that?" she asked, sounding puzzled.

  "You told me that there was nothing happening in Len and your personal life that would account for his murder, right?"

  "That's right."

  "Well, that leaves his job, doesn't it?"

  "I suppose it does. How did you manage that, Joe?"

  "Trade secret, Marcia. Look, I'll keep in touch with you, okay?"

  "Sure."

  "One more thing."

  "What's that?"

  "Don't mention this to Detective Clapton. He wouldn't like me meddling in his case."

  "All right, Joe. I won't say a word."

  "That's good, Marcia."

  "Joe? Thanks."

  "Marcia? Len was my friend, and I want to know who killed him, too."

  "Not as much as I do."

  "No," Keough said after a moment. "No, not anywhere near as much as you do."

  ***

  When Keough entered the task force office, he spotted Dolan across the room. The sergeant saw him, came over, and pretended not to know him.

  "Help you?"

  "Yeah, my name's Keough."

  "The new guy."

  "Yeah, the new guy."

  "The lieutenant wanted to see you as soon as you got in."

  "Big surprise," Keough said, loudly enough for Dolan to hear him.

  The sergeant gave him a warning look and said, "Let me introduce you to the others, and then I'll take you in to see him."

  He walked Keough around the room, introducing him one by one to the other members of the task force, none of whom he had ever met before.

  "Now I'll take you in to see the boss."

  "Great." He was finally going to get to meet Slovecky face-to-face. The first thing he was going to ask the man was why he'd picked him.

  Dolan knocked on Slovecky's closed door and opened it without waiting for an invitation.

  "Boss? Detective Keough is here."

  "Good," Keough heard a deep voice say, "bring him in."

  Keough slid past Dolan and entered the room, with the sergeant behind him. The man behind the desk didn't stand, but Keough could see the powerful build on him even while he was seated.

  "Lieutenant Slovecky?"

  "That's right." The man still made no move to stand or shake hands. "Have a seat, Keough."

  Keough sat right across from the man and studied him. He had a bullet head, hair very close cut, almost no neck, and powerful forearms and shoulders. He would hate to run into Dan Slovecky in a bar or an alley. He knew from Slovecky's file that he was thirty-four years old.

  Dolan took the seat on Keough's right and Slovecky stared at him.

  "You can go, Dolan."

  "Uh, I thought I'd stay during the orientation, Loo."

  "You thought wrong," Slovecky said coldly. "Close the door on your way out."

  Dolan looked stunned, but he finally stood up, walked slowly to the door, and closed it on his way out.

  "I've seen your file, Keough," he said. "You're a fuckup."

  No dancing around, right to the point. Keough decided to stay calm.

  "No more or less than anybody else."

  "No, no, don't be modest," Slovecky said, "a lot more. That stunt you pulled in the men's room of the courthouse, that was a beauty."

  "The asshole had it coming."

  "Maybe," Slovecky said, "but not from you."

  "That sounds funny, coming from you, Lieutenant?"

  Slovecky frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "This beef I had was nothing compared with some of the ones you had in the past," Keough explained. "That one in Eight-Five? When you broke the hand of a city councilman's son? That was a bit of a beaut, don't you think?"

  "You son of a bitch!" Slovecky said. "You saw my file, didn't you?"

  "I like to know who I'm working for, Lieutenant," Keough said, deciding on the spur of the moment how to play it. "You never know when you might find out something… useful."

  Slovecky stared at Keough, thinking that the new detective in the squad sounded a lot like somebody he knew.

  "You're a smart-ass, is that it?" he asked. "Who showed you my file?"

  "Let me ask you a question, Lieutenant. Why did you pick me for this assignment? I'm not a clerical."

  "You are now."

  "Yeah, but why?"

  Slovecky sat back in his seat and Keough could now see that the man had some extra pounds around his middle. Still, being locked in a room with the man would certainly not be Keough's idea of a good time.

  "Should we put our cards on the table, Keough?"

  "We could try."

  "I didn't ask for you to be assigned here. Your name has been in for some time for a transfer, and somebody decided to have you dropped in here. That's okay-I need a man to fill Detective Swann's spot. But you've spent the last two days asking questions about me." Obviously, Keough had talked to at least one person who was a friend of Slovecky's, or maybe Dolan had already told him about their conversation. "I don't like that."

  Keough shrugged. "Like I said, Lieutenant, I like to know who I'm working for."

  "What did you and Swann have going?"

  "What?" The question surprised Keough.

  "I want to know what you and Swann were working on. Did he give you copies of any files? Because, you know, if you have copies of any of my files, I'll have your ass."

  The stupid son of a bitch, Keough thought. The man had just admitted that he knew that Keough and Swann were working on the Lover case independently of the task force. How would he know that unless he'd seen them together? Maybe outside of Swann's house? Like the night of the murder?

  Suddenly, Keough wanted to leap across the desk at his superior, but he quelled the urge. If he was going to prove anything, he had to make sure it would stick. Attacking his boss on his first day wouldn't enhance his credibility when the time came.

  Slovecky stared back at Keough. "Well?"

  "I don't have any files, Lieutenant."

  "No? What do you have?"

  Keough shrugged. "Some thoughts."

  "About what?"

  "The same thoughts you should be having," Keough said, "about two killers."

  "There are not two killers, Keough. I went through that with Swann, I'm not going through it with you. If you have thoughts about that, forget them. I run this squad; nobody here thinks but me."

  "Swann did."

  "Swann's gone."

  "But not forgotten."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Just what I said."

  Slovecky sighed heavily and shook his head sadly. "Keough… you and I ain't gonna get along, are we? I can tell."

  "Fine, then transfer me."

  "Not on your life. I want you right here where I can see you. I'm gonna be watching every move you make."

  Keough grinned at the man and said, "That makes two of us… sir."

  Slovecky sat back, his hands in his lap, out of sight.

  "Get out," Slovecky said. "Dolan will show you where Swann's desk was. Get our files in order."

  "You computerized?"

  "Of course we are."

  "I don't know how to use a computer."

  Slovecky's face darkened.

  "Fake it."

  Keough stood up and walked out of t
he office, closing the door behind him.

  "First meeting's a bitch," Detective Samuelson said to Keough, "but the boss is okay."

  "Uh-huh." He looked over at Dolan, who was standing nearby. "Slovecky said you'd show me Swann's desk."

  "Sure, it's over here."

  Keough followed Dolan to a corner of the room with a computer and some file baskets. The baskets were full of reports that had come in that morning from precincts all over the city, and beyond.

  "How'd it go, uh, with him?" Dolan asked, out of earshot of the others.

  "I think we understand each other, the lieutenant and I." He decided not to accuse Dolan of giving him up-not yet, anyway.

  "Is there going to be trouble?"

  "Oh," Keough said, almost laughing, "oh yeah, if I can help it."

  Dolan got a pained look and walked away.

  Keough sat at Swann's desk and wondered if Slovecky was telling the truth. Could it possibly have been a coincidence that brought him here, right where he would have chosen to be, given the chance? Now he'd not only be able to work on the serial killer cases but on Swann's murder, as well.

  SEPTEMBER

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Over the course of his first week with the task force, Keough was left alone in the office often, and he couldn't believe his luck. All he had to do was figure out the damned Xerox machine.

  Initially, Keough made no attempt to file the reports that came into the office. After all, Slovecky really hadn't had him assigned to do that. He figured if the lieutenant was lying to him and had actually arranged for his transfer, then he just wanted him where he could watch him, which suited Keough, because it afforded him the very same opportunity. On the other hand, if the transfer was truly a coincidence, it was one he could take advantage of. By the second day, however, he figured trying to keep the files in order might eventually benefit him. He did his best, but he was no Len Swann.

  On the Monday beginning his second week-Labor Day-he called his old partner Pete Huff. He'd thought he'd have his answer from the C of D's office by now.

  "How do you like your new assignment?" Huff asked.

  "It's fine, Pete."

  "Boy, what I wouldn't give to change places with you."