“And for you, sir?”
“Make mine a double Chivas Regal on the rocks, please.”
Mario was back in a flash. He placed their drinks on the table and handed them each a menu.
“Just signal me when you’re ready to order.”
“We will. Thank you, Mario,” Kruger said, picking up his drink. He smiled at Kristie and said, “I’d like to thank you for accepting my invitation to join me for dinner tonight. Here’s to Dan Mason. May he rest in peace, and may you and Buck solve his murder soon. Cheers!”
“Cheers,” Kristie said.
They touched glasses and sipped.
Putting his glass down, Kruger asked, “How do you like it at the Five-two?”
“So far, so good,” Kristie replied. “Captain Robertson appears to be a straight shooter, and my partner is a nice man. As a new detective, I’m sure I’ll learn a lot from him.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” Kruger said sarcastically. “I’ve known Buck and Captain Robertson for some years now, and I have the utmost respect for both of them.”
“How about you, Lieutenant, do you enjoy your job?”
“Some days are better than others, but I have no complaints. The job has been good to me.”
Mario reappeared and asked, “Would you care for another drink?”
“I’ll have the same,” Kruger said. “How about you, Kristie?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
A few minutes later, Mario returned with Kruger’s drink.
He took a generous gulp and said, “I’d like to get to know you better. Tell me about yourself.”
“There’s not much to tell,” Kristie said. “I was born and raised in Los Angles.”
She went on to tell Kruger the same story she had previously told Buck.
When she had finished, Kruger said, “So your dad was a cop. Did he encourage you to become a cop, too?”
“No, in fact, he discouraged me. He said that police work was dangerous and he didn’t want me risking my life every day. When I persisted, he finally relented. He said it’s your life, do what you want. I know he was proud of me when I graduated from the academy and joined the NYPD. Deep down I’m sure he had wanted me to stay in L.A. and join the LAPD. However, he never said a word about it. My mother wasn’t pleased when I became a cop and moved to New York, but she finally came around and accepted it.”
“It’s obvious you’ve got a mind of your own. I like that. I respect an independent woman.”
“So what’s your story, Lieutenant?”
“Please, Kristie, call me Karl.”
“Okay, Karl, what’s your story?”
“What would you like to know?”
“Start at the beginning. Where were you born? Do you have any siblings?”
“Believe it or not, I was born in the Bronx, and I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“Tell me about your parents.”
“There’s not much to tell. I don’t want to bore you.”
“You won’t bore me. I’m interested in finding out more about you.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Okay. Here goes. My dad was a construction worker who liked to drink and gamble. After fifteen years with the same company, he was let go. During a recession, the company decided to cut expenses by hiring fucking Mexican wetbacks at lower wages.”
It sounds as if Kruger has a hate on for Mexicans.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Kristie said in a sympathetic tone.
“When that happened, my dad couldn’t find another job. Eventually, the money ran out, and he became even more depressed. He continued to drink, and he and my mother would get into arguments over bills they couldn’t pay. My mother worked as a house cleaner, but she didn’t make enough money to cover the rent, let alone any other expenses. The day before we were going to be evicted from our apartment, my mother overdosed on sleeping pills. When my dad found her, he must have completely cracked up. I came home late that afternoon and found them on their bed. A sleeping pill bottle on the floor and my dad’s pistol lying next to him. They had committed suicide. My mother overdosed, and my dad blew his brains out. I was scared and traumatized. I didn’t know what to do, so I packed some clothes and took off before I could be placed in a foster home. I called 911 from a pay phone to report what had happened and hung up without identifying myself. I never saw my parents again. To this day, the horrific scene of them lying on the bed together still haunts me.”
“Oh, my God, that’s so sad. You said you never saw them again. What about at the funeral?”
“There wasn’t any funeral. Since my parents didn’t have any money to pay for a funeral, I later found out that they were buried by the city on Hart Island with all the other poor and anonymous people.”
Kristie’s eyes teared up. “I’m so sorry, Karl. What a tragic story. When you ran away, where did you go?”
“I was seventeen at the time and had just graduated from high school. Lucky for me, it was July, so I was able to live on the street with other homeless kids.”
“How did you survive?”
“I panhandled, worked odd jobs, and stole food from street markets. I didn’t, but some kids became pickpockets. We even stole items we could sell, like electronic equipment.”
“How long were you on the street?”
“About two months. One day in early September, I met a man named Billy Warner. He asked me why I was living on the street. When I told him the story about my mom and dad, he said I could come and live with him if I was willing to do odd jobs and run errands for my room and board. At first, I was a little scared and leery, but I didn’t have a lot of choices, and I didn’t want to spend the winter on the street. It didn’t take long to find out Billy was a drug dealer, but I didn’t care. He treated me good. I guess I was like a younger brother to him. Billy even paid for my Criminal Justice Course at John Jay College. After graduation, I applied, was hired by the NYPD, and worked my way up to my current position.”
Kruger failed to mention that Billy Warner was really Billy White, the current leader of the White Skulls. He didn’t want Kristie or anyone knowing his connection to the radical drug-dealing white supremacist movement.
“Considering what you went through, you’ve done very well for yourself, Karl.”
“Looking back at what happened to my parents, it taught me a valuable lesson in life.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“It doesn’t pay to be poor. From the day my mom and dad died, I vowed I was gonna make a lot of money.”
“It certainly appears that you’ve done that. By the way, where is Billy now?”
In her ear, Kristie heard Buck say, “That’s quite a story. I’ve never heard that one before. It could all be bullshit.”
Before answering, Kruger paused and took a long gulp of his drink. “The year I graduated from college, Billy was shot and killed by a rival drug dealer,” Kruger lied.
“Is that why you went into the narcotics division?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. It just worked out that way.”
“Buck told me you were married and divorced a couple of times.”
“Yeah, I was married twice and divorced twice. Both marriages didn’t work out.” He failed to elaborate. “The settlements cost me a small fortune, but I’m single now, and that’s the way I intend to stay.”
“You said your settlements cost a small fortune. I’m curious, how did you manage that on a cop’s salary?”
Kruger was about to answer when Mario reappeared. He handed Kruger a wine list.
“Would you care for wine with dinner, sir?”
Kruger turned to Kristie and asked, “Red or white?”
“I prefer red. A dry Merlot works for me.”
“Sounds good.
” Kruger glanced a the menu and said, “We’ll have a bottle of the La Ricolma 2008, please.”
“An excellent choice, sir.”
In a few minutes, Mario reappeared with the wine. Kruger sampled it and gave his approval. Mario poured them each a glass and departed.
They toasted once more to a pleasant evening, and Kruger said, “Let’s look at the menu. I’m famished. How about you, Kristie?”
“I think I’m ready to eat.”
After ordering pasta dishes with a side caesar salad, they were sipping wine and making small talk while they waited for their dinner to arrive.
“The reason I agreed to have dinner with you, Karl, is because you said you had an idea who might have wanted Detective Mason dead.”
“That’s right, I did say that, didn’t I? Actually, I don’t have a fucking clue,” Kruger said with a straight face. “I needed to give you a reason to come to dinner with me.”
Kristie exploded. “Really, I should have known!”
Kruger began to laugh. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just kidding, just kidding. You look sexy as hell when you get angry.”
“That wasn’t funny,” Kristie snapped.
In her ear, she heard Buck say, “Take it easy. Calm down. He’s just yanking your chain.”
Kristie sipped her wine and took a moment to compose herself.
Feeling calmer, she said, “As I mentioned we can use all the help we can get. What’s your theory?”
“Dan was working undercover trying to get evidence on the White Skulls. He must’ve been made, and the drug pushers put a hit on him. That’s the only thing that makes any sense.”
“What about Detective Mason’s partner, Joe Davidson, do you think he knows anything about Dan’s murder?”
“I doubt it. Davidson was working undercover in a different location. I don’t think they communicated with each other. Their assignments weren’t related.”
“Just the same, I think Buck and I should question Davidson. He might have some information that could help us solve Mason’s murder.”
“In my opinion, you’d be wasting your time.”
Why doesn’t he want us talking to Davidson? Is he afraid we’ll find out something he doesn’t want us to know?
Buck was thinking the same thing. In her ear, she heard him say, “Remind me to find Detective Davidson. I think we’d better speak with him.”
Before Kristie could ask another question, their food arrived, and their conversation was temporarily put on hold.
Halfway through dinner, after Kruger had downed a few more doubles, Kristie said, “Buck told me that several years ago you purchased a beautiful condo with a spectacular view overlooking the Hudson in Manhattan. Are you still living there?”
The booze was kicking in and slowing Kruger’s speech. “No,” he said, “after my second divorce I had to sell it to pay off the bitch. Since then, a few months ago, I managed to come up with a substantial down payment, and I bought a two-bedroom condo on Riverside Drive in Manhattan’s Upper West Side. You can see the Hudson River from my living room. Hey, when we’re done here, why don’t we go back to my place for a nightcap? With all the lights at night, the view of the river will blow your mind.”
“I don’t think so.” Kristie laughed. “Maybe another time. I’m tired, and I have to get up early. Buck and I have a meeting with Captain Robertson at eight.”
“I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
Kristie ignored him and asked, “How did you manage to come up with a substantial down payment to buy another condo? I know as a lieutenant you make a good buck, but with the divorce settlements, your new sports car, your taste for stylish clothing and other things, I’m sure they cost way more than your salary covers. Did you win the Power Ball Lottery or receive a large inheritance from a long-lost relative?”
Kruger chuckled. “I make a few bucks on the side.”
“I’m sure the extra money doesn’t come from being a part time greeter at Walmart.”
“Not quite. Let’s just say there’s gold out on the streets. There are times when you should leave the small fish alone and bait your hook for the big fish in the pond. To show their appreciation, the small fish reward you for leaving them alone.”
“Are you saying you get paid from drug dealers for looking the other way? Doesn’t it bother you knowing the drugs they’re peddling are killing people?”
“It doesn’t bother me in the least. People make their own choices. They don’t have to buy drugs. If they’re stupid enough to use drugs, I don’t feel sorry for them. They know the risks they’re taking. My goal is to find the suppliers and put them out of business, but that takes time and planning. In the meantime, if I can make a few bucks until that happens, it’s better in my pocket than in theirs.”
“Wow! I’m sure your little side business pays a hell of a lot more than working part-time at Walmart.”
“You’d be surprised,” Kruger said, laughing.
“Bingo,” Buck said in Kristie’s ear. “I think we got him.”
At that moment, Kruger realized the booze had loosened his tongue, and he had said too much.
He glared at Kristie. “Why are you so interested in where I get my money? Are you wearing a wire?”
For a split second, she was caught completely off guard. Shit, I’ve probably pushed too hard.
Kristie recovered quickly and said, “Of course not. Why would you even think that? Do you want to frisk me?”
With a lecherous smile, Kruger said, “Oh, I’d love to frisk you, Detective. I’d like to take you back to my place and do it there. That’s not the only thing I’d like to do.”
“Only in your dreams, Kruger. That’s not going to happen.”
“Ah, come on, sweetheart. I won’t bite. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
You’ll be a perfect asshole!
Kristie spat back, “I’m not your sweetheart. When I say no, I mean no! I think I’ll take a cab home. Maybe you should, too. You’re in no condition to drive.”
Kristie got to her feet, turned, and without looking back headed for the door.
Kruger just sat there, his mouth wide open, a bewildered expression on his face.
CHAPTER 6
Buck hurried out of the building without Kruger seeing him. He found Kristie at the curb, trying to hail a taxi. He grabbed her by the arm and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ll take you home. I’m parked around the corner.”
Once inside the car, she gave Buck directions to her apartment building. As Buck drove, Kristie sat, staring straight ahead, her bottom lip quivering, her face still burning with anger.
Finally, Buck broke the silence. “You did good, partner. I think we’ve got what we need. I only hope Captain Robertson agrees when she hears the recording.”
“I hope so, too. I sure as hell don’t want to do that again. Kruger is an arrogant pig.”
Buck grinned. “Yeah, he can be a jerk sometimes.”
Still seething, Kristie yelled, “Sometimes! I’d say he’s a jerk all the time.”
Buck laughed. “I think you could use a stiff drink to calm your nerves and lower your blood pressure.”
“You’ve got that right. Would you like to come up for a nightcap? I don’t like to drink alone.”
“What the hell! Why not? I could use a drink, too.”
When they arrived at Kristie’s address, Buck pulled into a visitor parking spot. Before he could walk around and open the door, Kristie jumped out and headed for the front entrance.
“Wait up,” Buck called out. “What’s the hurry.”
“Sorry, I guess I wasn’t thinking. My mind’s still preoccupied with Kruger.”
Sitting at the kitchen table, Woods said, “It looks like you’ve got a cozy little apartment here.”
“Yeah, it do
es the job for now, but I’d like to move closer to the station house. Name your poison. I’ve got bourbon, scotch, vodka, gin, and cold beer.”
“A cold beer sounds good.”
Kristie retrieved a Bud from the refrigerator.
“Would you like a glass?”
“No, thanks, the bottle’s fine.”
She threw a few ice cubes into a glass, then squeezed in a lime wedge, poured a double shot of vodka, and topped it off with tonic water.
“Why do you want to move closer to the Five-two?”
“The commute takes too long in morning rush hour traffic, and I hate paying rent. It’s like flushing money down the toilet. My dad was a stickler for owning your own home. He said it was wise to build up equity in something you can eventually sell. I guess his advice rubbed off on me. When he passed away my brother, and I inherited more money than we expected. I thought I could use it to buy a condo. I’d rather be paying off a mortgage than giving rent to a landlord.”
“That makes a lot of sense. Your dad gave you good advice.”
“Your condo is close to the precinct. When I was there, I liked what I saw, but I didn’t notice any for sale signs.”
“Owners aren’t allowed to put up signs in the building, but if you Google the address I’m sure you’ll find a few units listed with realtors.”
“Good idea. I think I’ll do that. My lease is coming up at the end of next month. That should give me enough time to find something and move before the end of the year.”
“If you want, I can check with Hank Rodgers, the manager, to see if he knows of any units that might be coming on the market. Maybe you can buy something before it gets listed and save a few bucks.”
“That’s a good idea. Let’s go sit in the living room. It’s much more comfortable.”
Buck sank into the plush leather couch, and Kristie sat down next to him. She raised her glass and clinked Buck’s bottle.
“Here’s to Kruger’s downfall. Let’s nail that arrogant bastard. Cheers.”
“I’ll drink to that. Cheers,” Buck said.
“When will you be moving back into your condo?” Kristie asked.
New York City Murders Page 5
