Final Cycle

by Elaine L. Orr

  After telling the dispatcher that neither she or the B&E suspect had any injuries, Elizabeth hung up and studied Clancy's profile. "What did you think you'd find?"

  Despite having had a couple of minutes to rehearse a response, Clancy had no good one. "I, uh, well, you know. It's almost Christmas."

  "Wanted something to pawn to finish your shopping?" Elizabeth asked.

  Clancy turned his head. "Do I get to keep the new bike?"

  "My guess is you'll need a place to store it while you're a guest of the county or state."

  "Hey! I…"

  "Face the wall," Elizabeth said.

  He complied. "I didn't kill Louella Belle."

  Flashing red and blue lights announced back-up.

  "You have a funny way of trying to convince me of that. Stay where you are while I open the door for my men."

  "I'm gettin' a cramp in my leg."

  Elizabeth opened the front door. "Suck it up."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE SPACE ADJACENT TO the cement block room that held the station's two small cells served as an informal interrogation-room. A sparse room kept uncomfortable on purpose.

  On television shows, police wanted to keep suspects on edge. Elizabeth didn't necessarily want to frighten people, but she wanted them to know they hadn’t been brought in for a chat. Especially in this case, she wasn't about to use the more comfortable conference room.

  With Calderone sitting next to her, Elizabeth started the questioning. "Had you broken into Louella Belle's house before?"

  Clancy blew out a breath. "No, and I wouldn't have…"

  "I'm going to ask you some specific questions," Elizabeth said. "Where were you before you got to Louella Belle's place?"

  "Library."

  "The library," Calderone said. "Taking out a book."

  Clancy glowered at him. "They let you sit in there when it's cold outside."

  "What were you going to do with anything you took from her house? Be hard to pawn locally."

  Clancy looked from Elizabeth to Calderone and then at the table. "EBay."

  Trying to keep sarcasm from her tone, Elizabeth asked, "Don't you get paid faster if you sell on Craig's List?"

  "Yeah, but somebody might figure out where I got the stuff. You know, later. If it was in the papers."

  After questioning Clancy for more than an hour, Elizabeth didn't see him as Louella Belle's killer. His earlier alibi still held, and she could think of no motive.

  Sure, Louella Belle could have insulted him in the laundromat – or yelled at him if she found him in his underwear. But Clancy seemed to tune out insults, and Elizabeth thought he was more likely to have mooned Louella Belle than shove her hard enough to kill her.

  Still, he was a logical enough suspect that she had no intention of letting him immediately bond out on the burglary attempt. Not that the decision was hers, but local judges tended to agree with her about who was a danger to themselves or others, or might skip out on bail.

  Her eyes swept his untucked shirt and the hole in his jeans, but also took note of his clean and carefully cut fingernails. He no longer had family ties to the town, as far as she knew, and his address was a post office box. He seemed to be homeless. Yet he never appeared dirty. Where did he hang out?

  Elizabeth stood from her position across the table from Clancy. "Officer Calderone and I are going to step out. You'll be on camera. Don't make me chain you to that chair."

  Clancy replied in a sullen tone. "Yes ma'am."

  She and Calderone left the room and shut the door. Elizabeth gestured to Grayson who'd been leaning against the wall a few yards down. "He's on the closed-circuit feed into the conference room, and Mahan's in the bullpen. Stand by the door to listen. If Clancy starts throwing a chair or something, holler for us."

  Grayson nodded. "You think he killed her?"

  "Or Stanley Buttons?" Calderone asked.

  "He mostly sticks to his story, but every now and then he forgets something or repeats himself. If he did it, he's doing a good job of acting like an innocent man."

  "What do you mean?" Grayson asked.

  Elizabeth shrugged. "If he did it, I think his story would stay exactly the same. Easier for a made-up story to be consistent."

  She nodded to Grayson and she and Calderone continued to the locker room, where Hammer had placed a fresh pot of coffee and a few sandwiches that Nick had sent from the diner.

  In silence they poured their cups and unwrapped the food. As they sat, Elizabeth asked, "You think he'd tell us any more if we threaten to transfer him to county?"

  "Might. Clancy's a creature of habit. Almost OCD-ish. He's expecting to be cut loose."

  "I looked at his record. We've arrested him a few times, but I don't recall him ever starting the fights he was in."

  Calderone swallowed a bite of sandwich. "The one time he threw the first punch, the guy he hit had called him a vile name and accused him of robbing somebody in the parking lot at the hospital."

  "And did he? Rob someone?"

  "Nope. Charges for the fight were dropped. I think the guy he hit was drunk and knew the robbery victim. Just mouthing off. Dangerous to do."

  Elizabeth added sugar to her coffee. "I need to start keeping bottles of tea in here. I don't want this stuff after about three. So, you think if I threaten him with transfer to the county he'll be more, shall we say, forthcoming?"

  "Could be. If he knows anything besides what he planned to take from Louella Belle's."

  Elizabeth wrapped up half of her sandwich and grinned at Calderone. "Watch this."

  They left the locker room, and Grayson's eyes lit up as they approached him.

  "More sandwiches in the locker room. Help yourself."

  "Yes ma'am." He glanced at Calderone as he walked by them.

  Elizabeth figured Grayson thought the sandwich was too good for Clancy. She unlocked the door to the interrogation room and she and Calderone reentered.

  Clancy glanced at the sandwich. "That for me?"

  "Yes." She sat it in front of him. "You'll have missed dinner at the county lock-up, and I hear breakfast is cold cereal."

  "County? I didn't do nothin'!" When he met Elizabeth's gaze, he added, "Well, I was gonna take something, but I didn't, did I?"

  She and Calderone sat across from Clancy again. "You know something about Louella Belle. Maybe you didn't kill her, but you've been too close to this murder all along. Your bike was nearby, you're in that laundromat regularly, and now you've broken into her house. A dead woman's house."

  Clancy unwrapped the ham half-sandwich and took a huge bite. With his mouth full, he said, "Thank you."

  Calderone said, "Like the chief said, last good meal you'll get for a while."

  Clancy's eye's traveled from one to the other. "I don't want to go to county. Hell, I'd be there for freaking Christmas, too."

  He paused, and Elizabeth thought it was more for effect.

  "I didn't kill her, but I might know who did."

  Elizabeth and Calderone said nothing as he took another bite.

  Clancy added, "So do I go to jail if I didn't tell you something, you know, first time you asked?"

  Elizabeth wiggled her hand, palm down, above the table. "Maybe, maybe not. If you help us catch a killer, that would weigh heavily in your favor." She turned to Calderone. "I think we ought to offer Mr. Clancy a lawyer again, what do you think?"

  "Yep. You want one?"

  Clancy seemed to stare at something over Elizabeth's shoulder, and then at her. "Do I get more credit if I talk to you without one?"

  She shook her head. "No. You have every right to protect yourself. I can call the public defender for you."

  "Yeah, I guess. Can I sleep here tonight?"

  Bingo. Finn Clancy really didn't want to go to the county jail.

  Calderone put Clancy in a cell and got him a blanket while Elizabeth went to her office to call the county Office of the Public Defender. She knew they wouldn't want to come out so late
on such a cold night, when the death hadn't taken place that night. Too bad.

  AT ALMOST MIDNIGHT FRIDAY NIGHT, the young public defender finished talking to Clancy in the conference room and called for Elizabeth and Calderone.

  As they sat, Max Henderson adjusted reading glasses and peered at scribbled notes on a legal pad. Early balding made him appear older than what Elizabeth assumed was twenty-seven or eight. She'd looked him up on the Office of Public Defender website. University of Illinois Law School, and a native of the state.

  "Chief, Officer, I think my client can help you a lot. He agrees he should have done so earlier." Henderson nodded to Clancy, who ducked his head, seeming to try to adopt a self-effacing pose.

  Elizabeth thought he failed miserably. "Glad to see he's had a change of heart."

  Henderson continued. "He is willing to speak without an agreement on reduced likelihood of arrest, to give you a sense of what he knows."

  "I'm not the State's Attorney's Office for the county, Mr. Henderson. If you want a representative of that office here, I can make a call. I simply want to know what Mr. Clancy knows that would help us arrest a killer. Assuming he's helpful I'll urge full consideration as they contemplate his tardiness in coming forward."

  Calderone briefly looked amused, but then the expression passed. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at Henderson as he pondered what she had said.

  Henderson turned to Clancy and nodded. "Keep it to what we discussed."

  Clancy sat up straighter, and squared his shoulders. "It was the two fat dudes. The ones from the college."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  AS TIRED AS SHE KNEW everyone was, Elizabeth wanted to push through the early hours of Saturday morning. She could not imagine two less likely suspects for Louella Belle's murder than Herbie Hiccup and Just Juice Jenson. But the implausible nature of Clancy's accusation gave it a ring of truth. If Clancy had a manufactured tale, he would have picked a better one.

  "Let's say we want to believe you…" Elizabeth began.

  Clancy half-stood. "You asked me to tell you!"

  Lawyer Henderson put a hand on Clancy's forearm and forced him back into his chair. "I told you. Listen and answer questions. That's it."

  Clancy sat. "I didn't kill that mouthy broad."

  Henderson blanched.

  Elizabeth said, "So far, I believe you. Now tell me why you think Mr. Gibson and Mr. Jenson killed Louella Belle Simpson."

  "I saw 'em less than a minute after."

  "Where was that?" Calderone asked.

  Clancy stared at him for a couple of seconds. "I come in the back door of Squeaky's laundry place. They were in the back, in front of that tub where you can wash stuff by hand."

  "Was Louella Belle alive?" Elizabeth asked. "Standing? Lying on the floor?"

  "On her back, on the floor. Her head was crooked. Her neck, I guess."

  Without looking at the pad in front of her, Elizabeth wrote 'crooked.' "Where were Gibson and Jenson? Did someone check for a pulse?"

  Clancy nodded. "They was kneeling next to her, Gibson on the left, I think. Looked like a couple of stupid ducks after their babies fell into a sewer grate. Kinda wavin' hands. One of 'em kept saying 'what'll we do? what'll we do?'"

  "And what did you do?" Elizabeth asked.

  "I pushed Gibson away from her. Heavy bastard. Didn't feel no pulse in her neck."

  "Did you think about calling 9-1-1?" Calderone asked.

  Elizabeth recognized the sarcasm in his question.

  Clancy glanced sideways at his lawyer. "I probably shoulda. But, I, uh, saw an opportunity to make some money."

  Henderson stopped taking notes on his legal pad and shut his eyes for a half-second.

  "And what opportunity was that?" Elizabeth asked.

  "See, I owe some money down at the pool hall, where I hang out a lot."

  Elizabeth waited, expecting him to say he rifled Louella Belle's pockets.

  Clancy continued. "I told the fat boys I could help make it so no one knew they had anything to do with her killin'."

  Calderone asked, "How did you plan to do that?"

  He grinned briefly. "I figure, we hide her and leave. First I thought in that huge tan garbage can in the back, near the laundry tub thing. Then I had the idea of the dryer."

  "Did you all lift Louella Belle into the dryer?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Mostly me and the Juice guy. We put her on top of one of those carts and kinda rolled her over to the dryer. One with somethin' in it, so we could kinda hide her."

  "And no one came in while you did this?" Calderone asked.

  Clancy hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Nope. We worked pretty fast. Put her in the dryer with the red and white tablecloth things. Where Marti found her."

  Elizabeth picked up her now cold cup of coffee. "And why was hiding the body of an elderly woman an 'opportunity' for you?"

  "Oh, I told 'em they had to give me $500. See, I could pay off some guys."

  "At the pool hall," Calderone said.

  Clancy nodded, seeming to take Calderone's casual tone as agreement that hiding a body was a good way to make quick money.

  "Couple more questions," Elizabeth said. "How did Louella Belle's head and upper torso get wet?"

  Clancy wet his lips. "See, uh." He glanced at his lawyer.

  Elizabeth figured the next couple sentences would be news to Henderson.

  When Clancy said nothing, Calderone asked, "Did she get dirty on the floor?"

  Clancy's temper flared. "We wanted to be sure she was dead. Dunked her head in the laundry tub."

  Henderson interjected, "Now Chief, we planned on some limits to the disclosures here."

  Elizabeth waved his comment aside. "If Mr. Clancy is to describe Louella Belle's death. I think the dunk in the laundry tub is quite relevant."

  For the first time, Clancy seemed to realize he had implicated himself in more than disposing of a body. He almost stuttered. "But she, she, musta been dead. I mean, she didn't wake up. That's what we were trying to do. Wake her, wake her up."

  Elizabeth didn't acknowledge his supposed good deed. "So, she was wet when you transported her to the dryer. All three of you wedged her in there?"

  Clancy nodded.

  "Who cleaned up the wet floor?" Calderone asked.

  "Dunno. I left. I told 'em to give me the money the next day. Met 'em at the Weed 'n Feed."

  "What time?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Dunno. Kinda lunchtime. They said they needed to get the cash in the morning."

  "Did they say where it would come from?" Calderone asked.

  "Like I give a flying…I didn't care. Long as it was green bills."

  "Did you leave the laundromat together?" Elizabeth asked?

  "Nope. I walked right out the back door. No idea what the fatsos did."

  "How did your bike get behind Gene's place?"

  Clancy shrugged. "How the hell would I know?"

  Though she figured Clancy had left it there himself and gone to Dollar General or the Weed 'n Feed – which Mahan had verified – she decided to leave the bike for another round of questioning.

  "Funny someone took it from the bike rack in front of Doris Minx' place and left it there," Calderone said.

  "Funny, yeah," Clancy said.

  Henderson cleared his throat. "I believe my client has been very helpful to you."

  Elizabeth nodded. "We learned a lot." She focused on Clancy. "However, you were more involved in Louella Belle's death than you indicated."

  "I still get out of here though, right?" Clancy asked.

  "Bond is up to the court, but I imagine that at some point you will be free until trial."

  Clancy leaned forward, toward Elizabeth. "Whaddya mean trial?"

  "Earlier, I had the sense you only witnessed something. You were an active participant in moving a body, and took money to stay quiet about that." Elizabeth didn't use the term 'accessory after the fact.'

  "We had a deal," Clancy began.

&nbs
p; "You helped us," Elizabeth said. "Possibly a lot. I will make sure the Office of the State's Attorney knows that."

  "I don't want to spend effing Christmas in jail!"

  Elizabeth stared Clancy down. "We'll see about that."

  AS CALDERONE AND GRAYSON took Clancy back to a cell at two AM, Elizabeth stayed in the conference room with Max Henderson. "My guess is some of that was new to you."

  In a stiff tone, he said, "I can't comment about what my client and I discussed."

  She smiled. "It was more of a rhetorical statement, based on your expression a couple of times."

  Henderson said nothing.

  "When you review Mr. Clancy's past crimes, you'll see they generally didn't involve hurting anyone. I will tell the State's Attorney that he was helpful. If they ask me about bail, I can't be as fulsome in my support of it as I was before I knew he dunked her in that tub."

  Henderson put his legal pad and pen in a cardboard accordion folder. "I hear you." He hesitated. "Thanks for your attitude." He left.

  Elizabeth pondered her so-called attitude for a few moments. As with giving Clancy the sandwich earlier, she thought she got more from basic courtesy than insults. Keeping derision from her tone had been hard, though.

  Calderone and Grayson came back into the conference room, Calderone covering a yawn with the back of his hand.

  Elizabeth gestured to chairs across the table from her. "You can go home in a few, Calderone."

  Grayson asked, "What do you want me to do, Chief?"

  "Since we have Clancy in a cell, I want you to stay in the station instead of going back out. Most students are home so bars closed early, and it's bone-chilling cold. Any thief checking for change in unlocked cars deserves to find some."

  Calderone yawned again. "Sorry."

  "No problem. You go home, I'm going to nap in my office for a couple hours, then get Gibson and Jenson in here pretty early."