Mercy Street

by Mariah Stewart

  Robert held up a hand. “I want Kevin to know who not to hire. Which would be any one of the ones we had working for us, so it doesn’t matter which order you put them in.”

  “Sorry.” She turned on the laptop on the right side of her desk. “I just get so angry when I think of those bastards. Not one of them gave a shit about you or Beth or Ian or finding them. They were merely milking a cash cow.”

  “Thank you for the reminder.”

  “Sorry. Sorry.” She flushed. Of course he didn’t need to be reminded.

  “I told him I’d pay for an investigator if he could find an honest one. So if he asks you to pay a bill, just write the check. Not that I expect he’ll be able to locate one who isn’t above robbing a priest blind.” Robert stood up and rolled his head as if working out a kink in his neck, then went to the fish tank that stood along one wall and peered inside. “I also told him I’d fund the new front steps for the church, so he’ll be getting bids and giving them to you. You know the drill.”

  “The usual anonymous gift?”

  Robert nodded and walked toward the door. “I’ll be in my office for a while if anything comes up. Make the call to the Realtor first thing, though. I want to get moving on that.” He got as far as the door before he turned around and asked, “You really think she’d be okay about me selling the house?”

  “Frankly, I think the only thing she wouldn’t be okay about is you.” Susanna turned her back, opened the computer file, and printed out the list for Kevin.

  “Well, I guess it’s like the lawyers say,” he told her from the doorway. “Never ask a question you don’t already know the answer to.”

  THREE

  Let me get this straight, Father Burch.” Joe Drabyak’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. “You want me to help you find an investigator to second-guess an ongoing investigation that’s being conducted by my department on a high-profile case.”

  “No, no. I’m not trying to second-guess anyone.” Kevin shook his head and smiled his most reassuring smile. “But I remember what you’d said before—when Beth and Ian first went missing—about your department having only so much manpower, so many resources. About how this wasn’t like TV, where all the cases are solved before you move on to the next one. I know that your people have their hands full now with that sniper who started shooting at the highway over the weekend. And since this does involve members of my parish, I thought the only right thing to do would be to try to help out.”

  “Nicely said, Father. But I’m afraid I can’t think of one PI that Robert Magellan didn’t hire—and subsequently fire—over the past year.” The police chief shook his head. “And even if I knew of someone, I don’t know how it would play with the mayor if it got out that I was helping to build a case for our prime suspect.”

  “If it should turn out that Ryan Corcoran had anything to do with these senseless murders, I’d be the last person to defend him.” The priest smiled kindly. “But right now, no one really knows what happened in that playground, isn’t that correct?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, that’s true. We have our suspicions, though….”

  “But no hard facts.”

  Drabyak nodded reluctantly.

  “Look, we both want the same things, don’t we? To find the truth? Justice for the victims? To find the missing boy and girl? Their families are beyond frantic, all this time and not a word. They’re thinking the worst and trying to hope for the best. Put yourself in their places. This is nothing short of a nightmare for the people who love these kids.”

  “Don’t think this hasn’t been a nightmare for the city too, Father Burch. A public relations nightmare. We’re under a lot of pressure because we have no leads, no evidence. Just two dead bodies and two missing kids.”

  “And because they’re missing, they’re the prime suspects.” Kevin rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me ask you something, Chief. Are you looking at other suspects?”

  Drabyak sent a dark glance in the priest’s direction. “We’ve interviewed everyone we could think of. We haven’t found any indication that anyone would have wanted the two boys dead. Robbery appears to have been the primary motive, but there’s been no word on the street that anyone’s been walking around with a few extra bucks in his pocket. We don’t have a whole lot to go on.”

  “My point exactly.” Kevin nodded. “So what would it hurt if we were able to help you out here, maybe find the two kids who disappeared, maybe find out what really happened that night?”

  The unspoken Maybe find the real killers hung in the air between them.

  “I don’t have a problem with you hiring someone to look into it—obviously, I can’t stop you. If someone else is responsible for these killings, we’d love to know who.” Chief Drabyak ran a hand through thinning brown hair. “Father, I have no personal agenda here. I’m not out to hang innocent kids. And of course I want the truth. It’s my job to find the truth. We’ve canvassed the neighborhood, we’ve spoken with everyone we could find who would talk to us—but we haven’t been able to find a witness that would lead us in any other direction. You have to admit, the facts are not lining up in the Corcoran kid’s favor.”

  “But the fact that he and Courtney have disappeared…”

  “Doesn’t make them innocent, Father. Two witnesses saw those four kids—and those four kids only—enter the park. There is simply no evidence that would lead us to believe anyone else was on that playground that night.”

  “But conversely, no evidence to suggest that others were not there.”

  “If you think you can find something that we missed, or find a witness that we’ve been unable to find, go for it.” Drabyak was clearly exasperated.

  “I intend to. All I need is a name. I was hoping you could give me one. I don’t know who else to ask.”

  The chief stared out the window, a thoughtful look on his face. Finally, he said, “I might know someone who could help you.”

  “So there really is a PI that Robert missed?”

  “No. A former cop.”

  “Someone in business for himself now?”

  “Not exactly. She’s writing a book about the Preston murder-suicide case that happened here in town about six years ago.”

  “The coal heiress who was murdered by her husband, who then turned the gun on himself?”

  Drabyak nodded. “Apparently, true crime pays. At least, she’s hoping it will. Anyway, she was a good cop. A really good investigator. A few months before she quit, she’d been promoted to lead detective.”

  “She got promoted, then quit?”

  The detective hesitated for a moment. “Let’s just say she’d made a name for herself within the force, and it wasn’t a complimentary one.”

  “What did she do?”

  “It wasn’t what she’d done, but the perception of what she’d done.”

  Drabyak apparently wasn’t inclined to go into greater detail.

  “How long has she been gone?”

  “Six, seven months.”

  “And you still think she’s good?”

  “As good as they come, yes.”

  “You think she’d be interested if she’s already working on this book you mentioned?”

  The cop shrugged. “I have no idea. All you can do is ask.”

  “I’ll do that, thanks. Where do I find her?”

  Drabyak took a small black book from the inside pocket of his jacket and thumbed through it, then made some notes on the back of a piece of paper he tore from a WHILE YOU WERE OUT pad. He handed the slip to Kevin.

  “Mallory Russo. That’s her phone number. Call her, tell her I gave you her name and I’d appreciate it if she heard you out. No guarantees she’ll be interested. But there’s no harm in trying. The worst that can happen, she says no.”

  “Right. Thanks.” Kevin folded the paper and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He’d call the former cop as soon as he left the station. It was the first bit of encouragement he’d had since he’d agreed to help Mary Cor
coran find her grandson. Maybe with luck, by the end of the day he’d have something positive to tell her.

  “Have you lost your mind, Joe?” Mallory Russo started in on her former boss before he’d had time to say hello. “Giving out my name to a priest who wants to hire me as a PI? Jesus, Joe.”

  “Did you hear him out?” The chief leaned around his desk to close his office door lest the call be overheard. Mallory Russo was not exactly missed by her former coworkers.

  “Yes, I heard him out. But—”

  “Then you know this is one high-profile case.”

  “I’ve followed it, of course I have. But there’s no way I can get involved. Besides, I’ve had my fill of law enforcement. I’ll never go back.”

  “So you let the bastards win, eh?”

  “It’s not a matter of letting anyone win,” she snapped. “I just don’t want to be involved anymore. I can’t imagine what you were thinking when you gave him my name.”

  “I was thinking that you were the best detective I had and it’s a sin and a shame to waste your talent. And I was thinking that if, in fact, someone other than Ryan Corcoran or Courtney Bauer killed those two boys, I don’t want to be the last to know.” Joe paused. “Besides, I thought maybe you could use the money. How are your savings holding up?”

  “They’re holding up. I’m good for a while,” she said. “But back to the issue, Joe. You have three other detectives on your staff, if memory serves me. Why aren’t they looking for another suspect?”

  “Had three,” Drabyak said tersely. “We’re a little shorthanded right now.”

  “Right. The sniper.”

  “All available hands are on that deck right now. Christ, if one more old lady gets shot at while walking out of a store on Congress Avenue…It’s a miracle no one’s been hurt. We need to get this bloke before he actually hits someone.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Plus, one of my best detectives, Catherine Pawley, left on maternity leave three weeks ago, so I’m down to two and right now they’re both a bit busy. I got a new hire, but he isn’t starting for another week yet.”

  “Guess the number of candidates for promotion from the ranks is pretty slim.”

  “Not funny, Mal.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be.” Mallory chewed a cuticle. “It could be a challenge for me just to get my hands on a copy of the police report, depending on who’s working the desk when I make the request.”

  “I can get that for you.”

  “Oh, swell, let’s start that talk up all over again, shall we?”

  “No one who knows you—no one who matters—believed any of that crap.”

  “Enough believed it to make my life a living hell.”

  When he didn’t respond, she added, “I know you mean well, and I appreciate your thinking of me. But no one in that department will give me the time of day.”

  “I’ll put the request for copies of the reports and the statements in Father Burch’s name.”

  “And won’t that give him confidence in me? That his private investigator can’t even get a report from the same department she worked for for nine years?”

  “It would if you told him what really happened.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d put that story to bed once and for all. I’ve tried to put it all behind me, thank you very much. I don’t see any reason to relive what was the worst time in my life.”

  “How ’bout we do this: I’ll get everything you’ll need and I’ll drop it off at your house on my way home from work. You can meet with the priest after you’ve reviewed the file.”

  “I’m sorry, did I say I was going to do this? I don’t remember saying that I would do this.”

  “Just look over the material, Mal. Just take a look and if you don’t want to take on the job, give Father Burch a call and let him know.” Joe paused. “Though I’d really be interested in hearing your take on the case. I think once you start looking into it, you’re going to be hooked.”

  “I’m not licensed to work as a PI, Joe. I couldn’t take this if I wanted to.”

  “Getting a license is not going to be a problem for you. Nine distinguished years as a detective—”

  She snorted.

  Joe ignored her. “—and you know your references will be the highest. Me, the DA…hell, even the mayor. You had a lot of admirers, Mal.”

  “And some who didn’t admire me at all,” she reminded him.

  “So don’t ask them for a reference. I think you only need five.”

  “I have no idea what I need.”

  “So you’ll find out.”

  “I cannot think of one good reason why I should do this.”

  “I can think of two.” Joe sounded unexpectedly cheerful. “One, because it’s a really complicated case, and that always gets you going. It’s what you do best. And two, because until you sell that book on the Preston case, you probably need the income.”

  “Income didn’t come up. We didn’t talk about money, but I’m sure I’m not likely to get rich off what this priest is going to be able to pay.”

  “Didn’t he tell you?” Now Drabyak sounded flat-out amused.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Father Burch isn’t footing the bill. His cousin is.”

  “And his cousin is what, the monsignor?”

  “Robert Magellan.”

  There was a notable pause.

  “Robert Magellan, super-rich guy? Mogul? The one whose wife and baby disappeared last year? That Robert Magellan?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s his connection?”

  “Magellan and Father Burch are more like brothers than cousins. And I’m sure he told you that the boy is his parish secretary’s grandson.”

  “Not hard to connect those dots.”

  “So why don’t you think about it and let Father Burch know by tomorrow afternoon if you’re going to take the job or if he should look for someone else.”

  “All right.” Mallory sighed. “But I’ll come into the station today and get the report myself.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I’m not a coward, Joe. Some might say a less-than-beloved cop, but no one’s ever called me a coward.” Mallory disconnected the call and slid her cell phone back into her pocket.

  Father Burch hadn’t mentioned Robert Magellan, but now that Joe brought it up, she remembered seeing him along with a priest in Joe’s office about a year ago. Joe had brought Magellan in to interview him following the disappearance of his family. He would have made a great suspect if he hadn’t had an airtight alibi and an endless string of people who’d testify that the man was totally devoted to his wife and baby son. Oh, and there was that matter of a lack of motive, and the fact that the series of events leading up to Beth Magellan’s disappearance could not have been foreseen.

  Mallory had been one of two detectives who had not worked on the Magellan case. Because it had been so high-profile and the FBI had been called in, once they realized who and what they were dealing with, Joe had handled it himself. Mallory and her partner, Cal Whitman, had been assigned to two homicides back-to-back. Joe’s immersion in the Magellan case had left the door open for her to fill the role of lead detective that he had vacated when he was promoted to chief. It had also put her in a position to have a jealous partner crank up the rumor mill.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, walked to the back door of her small town house, and stepped out onto what passed as a patio in her complex. Large enough only for two plastic chairs and a wooden table she’d found at a yard sale and painted red, the concrete rectangle provided a change of scenery from the tiny second bedroom she used as an office. She sat on one of the chairs and stretched her legs out in front of her, wiggled her feet out of her shoes, put her head all the way back, and closed her eyes.

  She couldn’t deny she’d been intrigued, even before Robert Magellan’s name came into the conversation.

  Of course she’d seen the news stories about the double homicid
e on TV. For the first week, all the local stations covered the story daily, keeping it right out in front, and why not? It had everything that the media loved, though over the past few days the local sniper had taken over page one. The two young men who’d been shot to death on the playground were already fading into the background. For their sake, if for no other reason, Mallory had to admit she was interested.

  Joe was right, of course. This was just the kind of case that got her going.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, Mallory went into the kitchen and grabbed her bag from the counter. She slid her sunglasses onto her face and walked outside through the front door, locking it behind her.

  “I need my head examined,” she grumbled under her breath as she got into her car and started the engine. “I need to deal with those assholes again like I need a hole in my head.”

  She backed out of her parking space and took the familiar route that led into the center of town, all the while reminding herself that Daniel had survived the lion’s den and that there were people who swam in shark-infested waters all the time and were never attacked. She tried to think of other analogies to her situation, but she arrived at the station before any others came to mind. Force of habit had her pulling into a reserved parking place, but she caught herself before she’d driven all the way to the end. She put the car in reverse and headed for the visitor spots closer to the back door, then went up the steps leading into the back of the building. As she’d told Joe, she wasn’t a coward, but there was no point in looking for trouble.

  “Well, well. Look who’s returning to the scene of the crime.” Frank Toricelli stood two steps up, his beefy hands on his hips.

  The dark glasses half covering her face were apparently insufficient as a disguise.

  “Nice to see you again, too, Frank.” Mallory tried to go past him, but he sidestepped to block her way.

  “Not so fast, Blondie.” His smirk turned her stomach. “You just missed your old partner. Of course, I could always call him back if you have something to say to him.” He stepped closer to the close the gap between them. “You got something to say to Cal, Blondie, or did you say it all to IA?”