Veritas

by Anne Laughlin

  “I almost forgot. I called about those recommendation letters.” Beth described Landscome’s fumbling explanation as to why they were missing.

  “I think he’s a pretty poor liar. That’s my sense, anyway. There’s definitely something going on with him,” Sally said.

  Beth stepped back into Sally’s arms. “Do you think anything is going on with us?”

  “Oh, yes. As much as you’ll allow is how much is going on with us.”

  “It’s big, then, isn’t it?” Beth asked.

  Sally kissed her. “I think it’s huge. But we don’t have time to even talk about it now. I have to find some wedge into who killed Barrow, and I’m itching to find out more about Landscome.”

  “Yes. You make perfect sense. I’m just not feeling very sensible. I want to go back to your place and spend the rest of the day in bed.”

  “Sounds great, but we can’t. Not now.”

  “You’re very good in bed, by the way. I’m putty in your hands.” Beth had her arms wrapped around Sally’s neck.

  “I’m afraid flattery won’t work.”

  “It was worth a try.”

  Sally leaned over to open the office door, extricating herself from Beth’s arms. “You’re making me feel like an ass—turning you down when we’ve only just gotten together. I’m not a killjoy normally.”

  “I know. I’m not being fair.” Beth picked up her bag.

  “So what do you think about resigning? Is it something you would have to do right away?”

  Beth leaned over to pick up Sally’s coffee cup and take a sip. “Landscome expects me to start meeting with the adjunct faculty today to let them know they are being terminated, and that includes Katie, by the way. I don’t know how I can delay the layoffs or my decision, but I’d love a day to think things over.”

  “Just make yourself scarce, then. Hide out. He’d probably wait a day to fire you. You’ll know what to do.”

  Beth stared into the cup. “I was so excited when I was made dean. It was like I’d been crowned queen, or elected president of the United States. It was the top of the only world I’ve known as an adult. The idea of going backward from that is a little hard to swallow.”

  Sally took hold of Beth’s hand again. “It felt like that when I moved back here. I’d been a homicide cop in Chicago and then I was back in the small town I was raised in. It did feel like going backward at first, but it doesn’t anymore. I love running the police department, and the town suddenly seems a lot more attractive.”

  Beth smiled. “There is so much I don’t know about you.”

  “I know. That’s what scares me.”

  “It shouldn’t. And I’m sorry we’re always talking about my crises.”

  As they stood the desk sergeant came through the intercom. “Chief, Henry’s on the phone. Says it’s important.”

  “Thanks, Dolly. I’ll pick up.”

  “Her name’s Dolly?”

  “Just give me a second here and I’ll walk you out to the door.” Sally put the phone on speaker. “Henry, what’ve you got for me?”

  “I’ve got you some word on that hotel registration in London. I had to go to Scotland Yard, can you imagine that, and ask one of them bobbies to go to the hotel and ask for the information. They’ve got all kinds of rules and regulations about privacy and such. Anyway, the fact is that Landscome did have a reservation at Brown’s, but he never showed up. Seems the alibi he gave you was bullshit, excuse my French.”

  “Good work, Henry. Did they fax over a statement of any kind?”

  “It’s on its way to the station, Chief.”

  Sally hung up. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Landscome firing you today. I might be keeping him pretty busy.”

  *

  Lou’s Diner was on the other end of Main Street and Beth headed there next to get a bowl of grits. It was almost as soothing as ice cream, but more acceptable before noon on a Monday. Mel was at the register when Beth walked in, paying her bill and teasing Mona, Lou’s daughter.

  “Beth! Just the person I wanted to see. I was going to call on you later.”

  “Call on me? Sometimes you sound like something out of Anne of Green Gables. ”

  “Don’t start talking dirty to me, ’cause I’m worn out in that department.”

  “That’ll be the day.”

  Beth sat in a booth and slumped against the wall, stretching her legs across the seat. Mel sat across from her. Mona put two cups of coffee in front of them and headed off to get Beth’s grits.

  “You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Beth asked.

  “Hell, no. I can’t ever stay mad at you.” Mel flashed her brilliant smile. “You’re one of my favorite people, Beth.”

  “That’s sweet of you. What do you want to talk to me about? I hope it’s not anything bad.”

  Beth knew Mel was going to bring up Katie and she was determined to keep news of the layoff to herself for now. Maybe there was still some way around it so Katie could keep her job and stay in town.

  “I know you’re friendly with Katie Murphy, right?” Mel was tapping a pen on the tabletop and Beth reached over and took the pen away from her.

  “Is this about how you’re sleeping with Katie Murphy?”

  “Sort of. I mean, it’s not like you and I ever had anything exclusive, but I still wanted to let you know that something’s changed.”

  “What do you mean?” Beth sat up and swung her legs back on the floor.

  “I mean that I’m not going to be sleeping around anymore. It’s just Katie for me, and I hope I for her, once she gets rid of that cow.”

  Beth was stunned. She knew Katie and Mel were attracted to each other, but she’d never heard of Mel having the slightest interest in changing her ways.

  “Wow, this is serious.”

  Mel drank her coffee and nodded in agreement. “It’s very serious. I think I might love her.”

  “Mel, you’ve only known her for a day or so. Does she know you feel this way?”

  “She knows it, but she doesn’t want to make any plans yet. She needs to break up with Delilah, but I really don’t know what the holdup is there. And what’s the story with that woman, anyway? You have history with her, don’t you?”

  “Yes, and I can understand how Katie got involved with her. Dee can be a lot of fun and she throws her energy at you. It’s really flattering. But it can take a couple of months to break up with her. She takes some convincing.”

  “She should leave it to me. I think I could convince her real good.”

  “Please, Mel. There is so much going on around here, the last thing I need is a showdown between you and Delilah Humphries. Just let Katie handle it.”

  “I don’t feel very patient. I’m really crazy about her, Beth.”

  Sadness touched Beth, a little behind the eyes, a little in the throat. Everything was changing, even the simple pleasure of making love with Mel with no strings attached. She knew that if Mel hadn’t changed the rules she would have herself because of Sally. But it was still a loss. Beth felt like she was sliced open by losses. Mona put the grits in front of her and she ate silently as Mel sat with her, chattering on about how wonderful Katie was. As Beth paid her own bill, Mel gave her a kiss on the cheek and bounded out the door, happier than Beth had ever seen her. She felt small in her jealousy, forgetting for the moment the happiness she felt herself about Sally. She would miss Mel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Ted, where the hell is that laptop? It’s almost eleven in the morning.”

  Sally was in her office, anxious to develop some kind of approach regarding Landscome’s false alibi. She wanted to take Ted with her when she went to see Landscome again. And she wanted the damn laptop.

  “Chief, I’m just a few minutes away. That fellow finally opened his shop at ten this morning after I sat there all night in my truck waiting for him. I made him start the laptop to make sure it worked. He didn’t even know that Barrow was dead.”

  “Just bring it
into my office when you get here. And good job, Ted. I appreciate you hanging in there.”

  “Thanks, Chief.”

  Within fifteen minutes Sally had the laptop plugged into the wall and booted up. She scrolled through the files in the directory, seeing many that were duplicates of those on his office and desktop computers.

  “Looks like he might have them all synched,” Ted observed.

  Sally kept scrolling, clicking on directories to reveal file names and subdirectories, drilling down each subdirectory to see all of the file names and extension types. She finally hit a subdirectory in a parent directory called “Freelance,” which was buried under another two layers of subdirectories. A long list of filenames appeared, all with .jpg extensions. Photographs. Sally clicked on the first file and the image opened on the screen.

  “Oh, dear Lord,” Ted said, turning his face quickly to the side.

  Sally studied the photo of a girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, fellating a corpulent man. The man’s head was not visible, but he appeared to be middle-aged or older. The room was small and dark, with what little light there was coming from a lamp next to the cot-sized bed. She could see a covered window at the top of the wall behind the girl, and knew the room was in a basement. Other than that, she could see nothing that would identify the location or the subjects, both of whom were naked. She clicked on the next photo.

  “There we go,” breathed Sally. “Ted, take a look at who we have with the underage girl.”

  Ted turned and screwed up his face. The scene was essentially the same but now a rear-angle shot of the man’s head provided a partial view of his face. Sally recognized President Landscome. He was holding the girl’s head to him. They could also see that her hands were bound behind her and that her thick mascara had begun to smear with the tears running down her face. “Who is that filthy son of a bitch?” Ted exploded. “That’s just a little girl.”

  “Don’t you think that’s Landscome? I think it’s him. It would explain a lot.”

  “Let’s go get him, Chief. God, I’d love to beat the crap out of him.”

  Sally continued to click through the photos, searching for a shot with a clearer view of Landscome. In her mind there was no mistaking him, but she wondered how it would play as evidence. All of the photos were from a similar angle, which focused primarily on the girl. The man’s face, Landscome’s face, was sometimes tilted up, sometimes down, but never at an angle that gave it a fuller view of the face.

  “I’d love to beat the crap out of him too, Ted, but we can’t do that. We’re going to get this fucker and we’ll do it right so it sticks in court. Put some of that photo paper we’ve got in the copy room into my printer. I’m going to print a couple of these to share with the esteemed president.”

  Bob Geddings poked his head in the office. He always took his day off on Sunday, whether the department needed him or not, because that was the Lord’s Day and off-limits for work. Before he had a chance to ask what was going on with the murder investigation, he saw the photo on the laptop screen.

  “Jesus H. Christ, what the hell is that?” Bob said.

  Sally knew her officers would be stunned by what was to be seen during one day working a beat in Chicago, but she found it refreshing. The world weariness of an urban cop became dispiriting.

  Sally waved him into the office. “This is what we call a big fucking clue as to why John Barrow was killed. It looks like President Landscome here is a pedophile and John Barrow got hold of this evidence of it. He was blackmailing Landscome, and my guess is that Landscome murdered Barrow. And you’re going to help me figure out how we can nail him for it.”

  “What do you mean, how? We go over there and arrest him, that’s how.” Bob was looking everywhere but at the photo on the screen. “Do you think you could close that thing?”

  Ted came back in with the photo paper and Sally printed four shots, all showing the clearest angle of Landscome’s face. Then she closed the laptop.

  “Here’s the problem. I’m not saying we’re not going to arrest him, but just hear me out about our evidence issues. First, we really have no evidence that Barrow was blackmailing Landscome to bring him to the United States and set him up in a tenured college position. It makes sense, but the photos aren’t direct evidence of it. Landscome was pushing hard for Barrow and no one else seemed to like him, but so what? If Landscome doesn’t admit to being blackmailed, the motive is pretty shaky. Secondly, we have these photos, but we have no foundation for them. Unless we find the same or similar photos in Landscome’s house, we can’t really prove this is him on the charge of having sex with minors or child pornography. What if Barrow found a Landscome look-alike and had him pose for these pictures? These are pretty poor photos for identity purposes.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Chief. No one would think that it’s not Landscome, given all the other circumstances,” Ted said.

  “They would if the defense attorney presented it the right way. All he has to do is introduce a reasonable doubt that the man in the picture is the man charged with the crime. Unless we can find these girls or the person taking the photographs, there’s no one to testify that it’s really him. The person who had possession of the photos is dead.”

  “Fuck,” Geddings said.

  “You swear a lot for a religious man,” Sally said.

  “This is bad, Chief. It calls for some swearing.”

  “So now let’s look at the murder. We’ve just had motive and opportunity dropped in our laps. Henry has gotten proof that Landscome’s alibi is blown, and these pictures indicate the murder victim was blackmailing him. The blown alibi is a solid piece, but the motive is going to be supposition at best. If we can’t prove that’s Landscome in the photos, and Landscome doesn’t confess that he was being blackmailed—and why would he since that would mean admitting he’s a pedophile—then the motive is leaky. We have no physical evidence linking him to the murder scene, no eyewitness, no murder weapon. We have, in a word, fuck-all.”

  “What are we going to do then?” Ted asked.

  “We can try to get a confession out of him,” Bob said. “I’d love a turn at that.”

  “Yeah, we’re going to interrogate him. Or rather, I am. And we’re going to search his house and his office. If nothing else, that’ll probably make the top of his head come off. But unless we find something, we might have to cut him loose. If he doesn’t confess and lawyers up instead, we will definitely have to cut him loose. I just want to prepare you guys for that.”

  Sally had Bob organize a few plainclothes vehicles and officers to watch Landscome’s office and home while she called the state’s attorney at the county seat to get the warrants processed.

  By three in the afternoon, Sally had managed to obtain a warrant for the search of Landscome’s home and for his arrest. The county prosecutor was convinced that the photos on Barrow’s computer were a strong motive and that the false alibi further supported a warrant. The officers watching Landscome’s campus office would radio her as soon as he left. She assembled a search team and waited for him to return home.

  Sally’s radio crackled and Ted Benson reported that Landscome appeared to be leaving for the day, heading to his car with briefcase in hand. Ted followed as Landscome went directly home, a distance of approximately two city blocks. Jake, who was posted on Landscome’s street, radioed that Landscome was pulling into the carriage house garage. Sally and the search team headed to their squad cars and made the short drive to the residence. The array of police vehicles would provide a fair amount of humiliation and fear, Sally thought, but nowhere near as much as that young girl in the photos suffered. Sally cared a hell of a lot more about her than she did about the murder of someone who used the photos to further his career. The only unfortunate thing about John Barrow’s murder was that it deprived Sally of getting him on whatever role he’d played in those photos existing in the first place.

  The squads pulled up en masse and Sally led the way to the door. Bob and
Ted stood behind her with their hands at their holsters. Other officers fanned out to the back and sides of the property. A student mowing the back lawn was sent on his way. Sally was about to ring the door a second time when Landscome yanked opened the door. His face was at war with itself, the desire to show outrage losing the battle to fear. The blood drained from his odd, Kewpie doll lips.

  “David N. Landscome, I am serving you with a warrant to search your home. And I’ll ask you to come with me to answer questions at the station house.”

  “Are you out of your mind? What is this about?”

  “If you don’t come to the station house voluntarily, I have a warrant here for your arrest. Your choice.”

  “I won’t allow this. I’m calling the mayor.” Landscome reached into his pocket and Sally instantly grabbed him and turned him around with his face pushed into the doorjamb. She heard guns come out of holsters as she did so, and after cuffing him she moved him into the foyer of the house.

  “Bob, will you pat him down and read him his rights?”

  Bob recited the rights while pulling a wallet, a cell phone, and an asthma inhaler out of Landscome’s pockets. “That’s it, Chief.”

  “I’m delighted you weren’t attempting to shoot me, Mr. Landscome. Nevertheless, I’m arresting you for the murder of John Barrow.” Sally turned to the crew behind her. “Jake, grab one of the other guys and take him down to the station. You can put him in the interview room.”

  “I will have your job for this, Chief Sullivan. You have no idea what you’re bringing down on yourself.”

  “Jake?” Sally motioned to the officers to take Landscome away and then got the search team started under Bob’s supervision. “Call me as soon as you find anything or finish up, whichever comes first.”

  When Sally walked into the interview room at the station a short while later, Landscome’s face was a terrible shade of white. He was still cuffed, and where Sally expected an explosion of abuse she found him subdued. She unlocked his cuffs and asked him if he’d like some coffee.