New York City Murders

by W. D. Frolick

  “Shit, you scared me. I was just about to read a letter that was in the envelope from Dan Mason.”

  Leaning over his shoulder, Kristie prompted, “Don’t let me stop you. Let’s hear it.”

  Woods unfolded the handwritten letter and began to read out loud.

  Dear Buck:

  If you’re reading this note, I’m no longer alive.

  For several months I’ve suspected, my boss, Lieutenant Karl Kruger, has been taking bribes. I’ve always wondered how he affords the lifestyle he lives on his salary, especially after two costly divorces. Having worked with him, you probably know that Kruger is organized, meticulous, and a creature of habit. Every Thursday he takes a two-hour lunch break. Just for a lark, on a Thursday several weeks ago, I decided to follow him. At 12:30 p.m. he met a man on a street corner in the Bronx. The man is a known drug dealer. He gave Kruger an envelope, and then Kruger headed straight to his condo. This same scenario played out every Thursday that I followed him. He always met the same man at the same time on the same corner. If he was receiving cash, he never took it to a bank. I believe Kruger has been stashing bribe money in a safe in his condo. Last Thursday for the first time, they exchanged envelopes. Why? I don’t know.

  I’ve been working undercover with my partner, Joe Davidson. I’ve been gathering evidence on the White Skulls, and Joe has been gathering evidence on the Black Devils. We were close to nailing a couple of them for dealing drugs, including the man Kruger has been meeting and taking bribes from. For obvious reasons, he didn’t want them arrested and put out of business. Kruger told me to back off. He said the dealers are small fish in a big pond, and that he was working on an idea that would catch the big fish, their supplier. When I asked him what the plan entailed, he was elusive and would only say that I would be informed when the timing was right.

  I suspect that somehow Kruger found out I’ve been gathering evidence on him. I’m sure it was Kruger who killed me or had me murdered.

  Buck, I hope the evidence on the enclosed flash drive will help you nail that bastard.

  Good luck!

  Dan

  When he had finished reading, Woods sat staring at the sheet of paper in disbelief.

  “Holy shit,” he said, placing the letter on his desk.

  “Holy shit two times over,” Kristie chimed in. “I’m anxious to see what’s on the flash drive.”

  “Me too,” Buck agreed as he picked up the drive and placed it into his computer’s USB port.

  A few seconds later, the screen came to life. Standing on a street corner in broad daylight, Lieutenant Karl Kruger was talking with a man who resembled the height and size of the suspect seen on the video from Buck’s condo. His face was obscured by a black hoodie. He wore blue jeans, and on his feet, he wore white jogging shoes that looked to be about size twelve. The two men spoke for a few minutes then the drug dealer handed Kruger a white envelope. They shook hands, then walked away in opposite directions. The same scene played out again several more times. Kruger wore different suits in most of the videos, but the other man always looked the same. The final video on the flash drive showed the same two men meeting. After Kruger received his envelope, he reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a bulging envelope and gave it to the drug dealer. Kruger said something and smiled. Once more they shook hands and left in opposite directions.

  When the video ended, for a long moment both detectives stared at one another without saying a word.

  Finally, Buck said, “Kristie, I think we’ve got a can of worms on our hands. If what’s on this video is what it appears to be, it might help solve Detective Mason’s murder. We’d better show it to Captain Robertson and see what she thinks.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Kristie agreed. “I’m curious to see her reaction.”

  “So am I.”

  Before going into Captain Robertson’s office, Buck uploaded the flash drive onto his computer and made a copy of the note on the Xerox machine.

  After Buck explained the reason for their visit, they waited in silence while Captain Robertson read the note, and watched the video. As the screen went blank, she pushed her chair back and looked directly at the two detectives.

  “What you have here appears to be incriminating evidence of Lieutenant Kruger accepting bribes from a drug dealer and possibly being involved in Detective Mason’s murder. The envelope he handed the drug dealer could have been a payment for the hit on Mason, but how do we prove it? Until we can gather more evidence, we can’t go accusing or arresting Kruger at this time. If we arrest him prematurely and he’s innocent, we’re going to have a lot of explaining to do. Simply put, we need more proof.”

  “It all looks simple to me,” Kristie said. “The video shows him accepting envelopes that no doubt contain cash payments from the drug dealer and the dealer accepting an envelope filled with cash for the hit on Detective Mason from Kruger.”

  “It’s not that simple, Detective,” Captain Robertson snapped, annoyed. “We have no proof that money is in those envelopes. For all we know, they could be exchanging cooking recipes or jelly beans. Until we have proof that money is being exchanged, there’s no way we can collar Kruger. At this point in time, we only suspect money is being exchanged.”

  Kristie’s face turned pink. She lowered her head and remained silent.

  Realizing Kristie was embarrassed, Buck jumped in. “What about a search warrant? If we can obtain a warrant to search Kruger’s bank accounts and his condo, I’m sure we’ll find the evidence we need.”

  “You could be right, Buck, but I’ll need to convince a judge we have probable cause to obtain a warrant. The video and Detective Mason’s note could do the trick, but I’d rather hold off for now. I’ll leave it up to you two to get creative. I’ll keep the flash drive and the note and hold them until you can get more evidence. We need to prove our case beyond a reasonable doubt. We don’t want any loose ends.”

  Back in the squad room, the frustration was beginning to mount.

  “I thought the video and the note would be enough to get a warrant,” Kristie said, clearly disappointed. “I’ve never heard the captain so agitated. She almost took my head off.”

  “She must be having a bad day,” Buck said. “I thought we had enough evidence, too. It almost seems like she’s hesitant to arrest Kruger.”

  “It sure seems that way. Is she trying to protect him for some reason?”

  “Nah, she wants to make sure we have an open-and-shut case before we arrest him. She’s just cautious, that’s all. Why don’t we get the hell outta here and go grab some lunch? Maybe we’ll think better with food in our bellies.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Kristie replied as her stomach began to growl.

  They walked to a nearby diner. It wasn’t fancy, but the food was excellent.

  While sipping coffee, after devouring their corn beef sandwiches, Buck asked, “Do you have any creative ideas on how we can obtain more evidence on Kruger?”

  “I was too busy eating to give it much thought,” Kristie replied. “How about you?”

  “My guess is you’ll be getting a phone call from Kruger. I know he’s interested in you. He’ll probably ask you out for coffee or dinner.”

  “Damn, that’s all I need. I have no interest whatsoever in going out with Kruger. Based on what I know about him, he only wants to get into my pants.”

  Buck completely cracked up.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Woods forced himself to stop laughing. “You. Your reaction was funny. It’s probably true what you said about Kruger. But maybe we can use his interest in you to get the additional evidence we need.”

  “What do you mean? Because I’m sure as hell not going to bed with him. There won’t be any pillow talk between Kruger and me.”

  “No one’s asking you to go to bed with him. Here’s my idea. If Kruger asks
you out for dinner, accept. We’ll put a wire on you, and during your conversation over dinner and drinks, you can pump him for information. Kruger likes to brag and to down a few. Maybe the booze will loosen his tongue a little.”

  “I don’t think he’s that stupid. I’m sure he’ll know what I’m up to.”

  “Not if you don’t make it too obvious. Take it slow. You’ll know what to ask when the timing is right. For your information, Kruger has a luxurious downtown condo overlooking the Hudson. He won’t expect you to know about his condo, so just ask him where he lives. I’m sure Kruger will want to impress you and tell you all about it. Knowing him, he’ll ask if you’d like to go back for a nightcap and see it. As a lieutenant, Kruger brings in around 150K a year. His salary wouldn’t even come close to paying for the lifestyle he’s living.”

  Looking uneasy, Kristie said, “I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know if I can pull it off. I’m sure I’ll be a nervous wreck.”

  “You’ll do fine.”

  “What if something goes wrong?”

  “Nothing will go wrong. If it does, I’ve got your back. I’ll be out of sight and close by listening to every word, and you’ll be able to hear me in your earbud.”

  “What if he wants to take me back to his condo?”

  “Tell him maybe another time. Say you’re tired and have an early morning meeting with Captain Robertson.”

  “What if he insists?”

  “Be firm with him. Knowing Kruger, he won’t push it. He’ll want to keep the door open for another time.”

  “If we don’t get what we need, there sure as hell won’t be another time.”

  “Let’s not worry about that now.”

  Shortly after returning to the squad room, Kristie’s desk phone rang. Before answering, she glanced at the screen and cringed. She looked at Buck and said, “It’s Kruger.”

  Grinning, Buck said, “He’s right on schedule.”

  Kristie winced and picked up on the third ring. “Detective Karlsson,” she said.

  “Hi, Detective. It’s Lieutenant Kruger.”

  “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, Lieutenant?” Kristie asked, almost choking on her words.

  “I’m just checking in to see how the case is coming along. Do you have any leads on who might have killed Detective Mason?”

  “Not really. This is going to be a tough one. We have no idea who the killer could be,” Kristie lied. Buck had previously told her not to let Kruger in on any progress they were making on Dan Mason’s murder investigation.

  All this time Buck was listening to the conversation with an amused expression.

  “I think maybe I can help. Have dinner with me tonight, and I’ll bring you up to date on what Mason was working on. I have a few ideas on who might have wanted him dead.”

  “Are you asking me on a date, Lieutenant?”

  The question seemed to catch Kruger off guard. He paused for a moment. “Not unless you want it to be a date.”

  Kristie gave a nervous laugh. “And why would I want to go on a date with you, Lieutenant?”

  Trying to keep the conversation light, Kruger laughed and said, “I’m charming, good-looking, I can carry on an intelligent conversation, and I treat a lady like a lady.”

  You’re full of crap, Kruger. I’m gonna need a shovel to get rid of all the bullshit.

  “Well, I’d certainly like to explore your ideas on the case. Detective Woods and I can use all the help we can get. What do you have in mind?”

  “Do you like Italian?”

  “Yes, I love Italian food.”

  “How about Sandrelli’s Ristorante Italiano? It opened recently in Little Italy, and the place is getting rave reviews.”

  “I haven’t been there yet, but I’ve heard good things about it from a friend. I’m game if you are.”

  “Great! I’ll make reservations for eight. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Okay. Remember, this isn’t a date, it’s strictly business.”

  “Right, strictly business,” Kruger repeated.

  She gave Kruger her apartment building address and said she’d wait in the lobby.

  After they had hung up, Buck smiled and said, “The fish has taken the bait, now all you have to do is reel him in.”

  “Easier said than done. I hope I can pull this off,” Kristie said, frowning.

  “It’ll be a piece of cake. You’ll do great! Don’t forget, I’ll be close by if you run into any trouble.”

  “What kind of wire do you want me to wear?”

  “There’s a new device a detective friend back in Maine introduced me to. I checked, and we’ve got something similar here. It’s worn on your wrist and looks like a watch. It’s a voice-activated device that will record your conversation with Kruger. I’ll have an earbud that will let me hear everything. Your earbud will let you hear me as well. I suggest you wear a long-sleeve blouse that covers the device just in case Kruger sees it. I’m sure he’s seen and used similar devices in narcotics work. If you run into trouble, let’s come up with a word that will signal me to move in. What word would you like to use?”

  “How about the word Thanksgiving? If I ask him what he’s doing for Thanksgiving, that will be your clue that I’m in trouble.”

  “Okay, that should work.”

  Before leaving for the day, they tested the device and found that it worked better than expected, even through walls up to a few hundred feet away.

  CHAPTER 5

  Buck arrived at the restaurant just before seven. Bruno Sandrelli, a friend and the owner, ushered Buck into his office. Knowing the reason he was there, Sandrelli made sure Woods was comfortable and left without asking any questions.

  At five minutes to seven, Kristie stepped off the elevator and took a seat in the cozy lobby. Looking like a fashion model, she wore a stylish red leather jacket over a silky white long-sleeved blouse. A short black leather mini skirt showed off her long, shapely legs. On her feet, she had on black open-toed high clunky platform shoes with ankle straps. Her deep blue eyes looked mesmerizing with a hint of eyeliner and mascara on her eyelashes. Her shiny, wavy blonde hair hung down to just below her shoulders, and her sensual red lips glistened seductively in the overhead lighting.

  At precisely seven o’clock, Kruger pulled up at the front entrance in his gleaming metallic gray Jaguar convertible. As he got out of the car, Kristie came out to meet him.

  “Wow! You look absolutely stunning,” Kruger said, his eyes fixed on the beautiful woman in front of him.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself,” Kristie said, thinking he looked like the big bad wolf in sheep’s clothing.

  Kruger, dressed in a tailored gray suit that almost matched the color of his car, rushed around to opened the door. As Kristie slid onto the seat, his jaw dropped as he took in the view of her lovely legs. Kruger closed the door, walked around, and got behind the wheel. He shifted the idling car into gear, stomped on the accelerator, and shot out onto the street.

  “This is some fancy car,” Kristie said, admiring the sleek black leather interior. “I don’t know much about cars, but I know Jaguars aren’t cheap. It must’ve cost you a fortune.”

  Smiling with pride, Kruger said, “You might say that. The list price starts at one hundred and twenty-five grand.”

  Buck was right, Kruger likes to brag.

  “It’s obvious you’re a car buff. Tell me about it.”

  “It’s what they call an F-Type SVR sports convertible. It’s got a 575 horsepower engine and will max out at around 195 miles per hour.”

  “Sounds impressive! Why do you need all that power?”

  “It’s not that I need it, but I like the feeling of freedom it gives me on the open road. About a month ago on the freeway, I was doing 185 when a state trooper tried to catch me. I could’ve left him i
n my dust, but I pulled over. His nasty attitude changed abruptly when I flashed my badge. I told him I had a police emergency. He bought my cock and bull story and let me go. He even volunteered to escort me. I politely declined and took off, leaving him standing on the side of the highway scratching his head.”

  Yeah, Kruger, it does sound like a cock and bull story.

  It was seven thirty-five when they pulled up in front of Sandrelli’s. Kruger killed the engine, got out, and rushed around to open the door. He accepted a ticket from the parking attendant, tossed him the keys, and said, “Be careful with my baby, son.”

  “Yes sir, I will,” the young man said as Kruger took Kristie by the arm and escorted her toward the entrance.

  “Good evening. Welcome to Sandrelli’s.” the maitre d’ said.

  Reading the maitre d’s name tag, Kruger said, as if greeting an old friend, “Good evening, Carmine. We’re a little early. Our reservation is for eight. The name is Kruger. Lieutenant Karl Kruger of the NYPD.”

  Not seeming impressed, the maitre d’ scanned his reservation list and said, “Ah, yes, here it is. Your table is ready, Lieutenant Kruger. Please follow me.”

  There he goes trying to impress me, bragging and acting superior. Kruger is a total jerk.

  They were escorted to a setting for two in a dimly lit corner. A single candle flickered in a transparent glass enclosure on a white linen tablecloth. The romantic setting wasn’t quite what Kristie had expected, but at least it was private. They could carry on a conversation without being overheard. She hoped that Buck was nearby listening in.

  The maitre d’ pulled out Kristie’s chair, and once she was seated he disappeared, and a waiter materialized out of thin air. He was a handsome man with short dark hair and a bright smile. He looked to be in his late twenties.

  “Good evening. My name is Mario, and I’ll be looking after you this evening. Would you care to start with a drink?”

  “That’s an excellent idea, Mario. What would you like, Kristie?”

  “I’ll have a dry gin martini with a twist of lemon, please,” Kristie said with a warm smile.