by Rick Reed
“You a funny man. The key word here is withdrawal, pod’na. If I start sweating and slapping a vein, you’ll be sorry.”
Liddell took a cinnamon twist from the box and said, “Did I tell you Marcie joined the Police Wives Society?” The Police Wives Society was a group of spouses formed to support each other.
“Good for her,” Jack said.
“Yeah. Having a baby makes you think way differently. If something ever happens to me, I want Marcie to have some help. Raising our son will be a full-time job.”
“You found out the baby is going to be a boy?” Jack asked, surprised. “Why didn’t you say something?” Marcie was eight months pregnant now. Jack found out Liddell was going to be a daddy while he and Liddell were working a case in Louisiana and Katie had let the news slip. She had warned Jack not to tell Liddell, but it turned out Liddell had known all the time.
“Just positive thinking, pod’na.”
“What if the baby is a girl?” Jack asked.
Liddell said in a deadpan voice, “If we have a girl we’ll name her Jacqueline. A boy, Jack.”
“I’m honored, Bigfoot,” Jack said. And he was.
“Who said I was naming him after you? I’m naming him after my favorite actor, Jack Nicholson.”
“Bite me,” Jack said.
Liddell parked on Sycamore Street and they hurried into the Juvenile office.
Detective Woehler was sitting behind his desk again and rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve got to get away from this desk more often. It really is giving me a pain in the neck.”
“Where’s Zack?” Jack asked.
“June Baldwin from Child Protective Services is babysitting Zack in the interview room. We struck out on finding Zack’s father. He got out of jail a couple weeks ago. He wasn’t at home, or at any of the local watering holes. The warrant allows us to take fingerprints, photos, etcetera, and that’s already done. We’ll add the new photo to his album right next to his baby picture.”
The secretary came over. “Jack, Captain Franklin wants you and Liddell to meet him in his office as soon as possible. Double Dick.”
“Shit!” Jack said. “That man’s like herpes.”
Liddell added, “The gift that keeps on giving.”
Jack and Liddell went into the interview room. June Baldwin from CPS handed Jack a Juvenile Miranda form. It was unsigned.
“Zack, are you still refusing to talk to us?” Jack asked.
“No. I’m just not signing anything. If I don’t sign it you can’t use anything I say against me.”
June said, “I guess he’s got us there.” Zack was an idiot. It didn’t matter if he signed the form or not. All that mattered was he was willing to talk and was being represented by a guardian. In this case, June Baldwin.
They talked for twenty minutes and Zack told them basically the same thing as Dayton, leaving out the part where he took the nugget ring from the dead man’s finger. He refused to close his eyes and imagine going to the house, saying he didn’t trust Jack, who he thought might try to hypnotize or brainwash him. He didn’t see anyone near the scene. Didn’t hear anything. But he did add some important facts.
“Dayton was in the back. She didn’t take anything. I found the body. The guy was dead. His clothes were folded in a neat pile in the corner, the jacket on top. I was cold. I took the jacket,” Zack admitted.
“Where did you get the money?” Jack asked.
“It was in his coat pocket,” Zack said, and feigned a disinterested demeanor although Jack could see the boy was both excited and pissed off that the money had been taken from him by the police.
“And the badge case?”
“In his jacket pocket,” Zack said, looking directly at Jack.
“You’ve got a tell, Zack,” Jack said.
“A what?”
“A tell. You know, like playing cards. When you lie, you keep good eye contact, and when you tell the truth your eyes wander. Where did you learn that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zack said, and looked away when he caught himself doing exactly what Jack said he did.
Jack believed most of the important items because Zack wasn’t a good liar, although he’d had lots of practice. Zack never once asked how Dayton was doing. Maybe he didn’t really care. Or maybe he was biding his time, waiting for her parents to let their guard down so he could coax her away again. The only way to stop that from happening was to charge him with theft and destroying evidence. The court probably wouldn’t send him away because every juvenile institution was full to bursting. The most he’d get was temporary detention, like Katie’s hoodlums. He’d be released today or tomorrow.
“I’m going to release you to CPS, Zack. Don’t leave town or I’ll track you down and arrest you. Understand?” Jack asked. When he said arrest, he made a sweeping motion across his neck with one finger.
Zack said, “Detective Murphy, huh? One a’ my old teachers was named Murphy. Katie. She’s a knockout. She had a husband that was a cop.”
Jack reached under his jacket and put his hand on his gun. He said, “What do you know? I’m a cop. Do you want to see my gun up close? Like up the side of your head if you say my wife’s name again?”
“No, sir,” Zack said hurriedly.
Jack talked to June Baldwin outside of the interview room and explained that Zack had stolen the boots belonging to the deceased and had left his own boots in the crime scene, so both pairs were evidence. Zack’s jean jacket and Sonny’s coat had also been seized. Zack wasn’t getting his own boots or jean jacket and socks back for a while. June said CPS would take care of finding him clothes. She also agreed with Jack that criminal charges were almost a waste of their time. Jack could always file a warrant if he wanted. June walked Zack out of headquarters.
Jack thanked Woehler for his assistance.
Woehler said, “I know you don’t want to hear this, Jack, but that kid is a victim, too. His dad is an abusive drunk when he’s conscious. His mother abandoned him. He’s had to fend for himself most of his life. All of his contact with police has been negative. To tell the truth, I’m surprised he’s stayed in school. There’s no way we can make him go. Maybe he’s worth saving? Who knows?”
Jack said, “He’s a murder victim waiting to happen. But you may be right.” Not!
* * * *
Jack and Liddell went to Captain Franklin’s office to update him and get Double Dick’s ass-chewing session over with.
They made it to the front lobby and saw a mob of reporters. The mob quieted and turned as one, like a tank of great whites sensing blood in the water, pencils like sharpened teeth, notebooks held like the tips of dorsal fins, and they swam at Jack and Liddell in a feeding frenzy.
Captain Franklin stepped out of the executive offices and shouted for the reporters’ attention. Jack and Liddell bulled through the crowd and made their way past the captain to the relative safety of the office.
“I wish we had a flash-bang like SWAT uses,” Jack said.
“You think that would work?” Liddell asked.
“Not for the reporters,” Jack said. “I was thinking of using it on Double Dick. Maybe we could make a break for the car.”
Judy Mangold said, “Deputy Chief Dick is waiting for you two in the captain’s office.”
Jack opened the door to the captain’s office. Deputy Chief Dick was sitting in the captain’s chair behind the captain’s desk, as was the right bestowed on him by his rank.
“First, let me say I’m saddened by the loss of a valuable officer,” Double Dick began. “Now come in and shut the door behind you.”
Chief of Police Marlin Pope came out of his office and said, “I’ll join you.” They stepped inside and Chief Pope followed them in and stood, leaving the door open. Captain Franklin came in and sat in one of the visitor’s chairs.
Pope said, “I’ve briefed Deputy Chief Dick on this investigation. He is in charge of the Public Information Office. All news releases will go through the captain, him or myself. I’ve also advised the deputy chief that all news releases or comments will be approved by me first.”
Double Dick fidgeted. “I understand, Chief. But if the media thinks we’re withholding information…”
Pope wasn’t finished. He said, “Information will be on a need-to-know basis from here on. I want tight control of this for the investigation’s sake. If there is any backlash from the press or anyone else, it will be handled by me. Is that understood, gentlemen?”
Everyone but Double Dick agreed immediately. Double Dick asked, “Does this mean you won’t be keeping me up to date on the investigation?”
“I’m doing you a favor, Richard,” Pope said. “What you don’t know, you can’t comment on. This is not a news blackout by any means. We will share with the public what we can. But if there are any more leaks in information,” he pointed down the hall toward the reporters, “I will deal with the person responsible and I’m not just talking a suspension. Deputy Chief, I know I can trust you implicitly, but I expect you to get word of that to every officer and civilian in this department. No one talks to wives or husbands or anyone else. Detectives Murphy and Blanchard will be the hub. All incoming information will be reported to them, or the captain. I’m depending on Captain Franklin to keep me apprised when necessary. Clear?”
Double Dick asked, “If we don’t tell the media something, they’ll report the rumors that are already going around.”
Pope surprised everyone. “Captain Franklin told them I will be talking to them in a moment. Captain Franklin, you’re with me. I don’t want them to get nasty with the deputy chief since he’s the PIO.”
Dick was stunned. He stood behind the desk. “I don’t think…”
Pope said, “Deputy Chief Dick, this will all fall in my lap anyway. Don’t worry. I have a very important job for you. You will be helping with the investigation by gathering all the background information for Detectives Murphy and Blanchard. You will need to see to this personally. I don’t trust anyone else.”
Dick had been frowning but the praise did its job. His face lit up. “I’m yours to command, Chief. Anything you need.”
“I knew I could count on you, Richard. I know you and Detective Murphy haven’t seen eye to eye in the past, but I expect you both to put that behind you. This is too important to let past feelings get in the way.”
“Of course, Chief,” Jack said. He held his hand out to Double Dick, who grudgingly took it, gave it a limp shake and pulled away like he’d put his hand in a toilet.
Double Dick sat again, but Chief Pope said, “Step into the hallway, Richard. You need to get on this. Talk directly to me if you need anything.”
Dick was disappointed that he wouldn’t be in on the briefing, but he did as ordered. As Double Dick and the chief went out the door Pope was saying, “Richard, we need all the records…” and the rest was silenced by the shutting of the door.
Jack asked Captain Franklin, “Is the deputy chief really going to help us?”
“Someone shot their mouth off, Jack, and the media has Caparelli’s name as a murder victim. I was just asked by a reporter if Caparelli was assassinated. The deputy chief wasn’t told about the money involvement yet. Chief Pope is trying to keep the deputy chief busy,” Franklin said. “If Richard contacts you, he should only do it to give you information.”
Jack understood that to mean he wasn’t supposed to give Dick dick. He hadn’t planned on it. Life was good.
Chief Pope came in. “I know you two have a lot on your plate. Give me the bare bones. I’m going to talk to the media.”
“Yes sir,” Jack said. He replayed the conversation with Sonny’s crew, the statements of the teens, and the curious run-in with Vincent Sullis at Sonny’s house. They knew about the forty thousand dollars found at the scene in Zack’s possession but not about the sixty thousand found in Sonny’s truck. The chief and captain were genuinely surprised when Jack told them about that money.
Jack ended by giving his opinion that Sonny was living too well for a policeman’s salary. He added that Angelina was checking everyone’s backstory. Sonny’s weapon and cell phones were still missing. Jerry O’Toole was getting a subpoena for the phone records. The briefing was brief.
“What next?” Chief Pope asked them.
Jack answered. “Morgue.”
Chapter 12
“Lilly should have called already,” Jack said as Liddell drove to the coroner’s office.
“Maybe she has Sully in one of the freezers,” Liddell said.
“You can’t freeze attorneys,” Jack said. “Ice in the veins.”
Jack called the morgue. No answer. He hung up and called Lilly’s cell phone. It rang several times before she answered.
“Lilly?” Jack said.
“Who’d you expect?”
“Lilly, when will Mindy and her attorney be there to identify the remains?” Jack asked.
“They’re here,” she said. “Join the party.”
“Be right there,” Jack said and put the phone in his pocket.
“Maybe Sully is in town to negotiate a severance package for Mindy,” Liddell said as they got in their car.
“You’re suggesting Sonny was paying the hundred thousand dollars to settle with Mindy?”
Liddell said, “Whoever did this is a maniac. Someone without a conscience. Bloodthirsty. An attorney is a logical assumption.”
“How long would it take to drive from Boston to Evansville?” Jack asked. “Ten? Fifteen hours?”
“At least,” Liddell answered.
Jack pulled Sully’s business card from his pocket.
“Let me see,” Liddell said, and Jack handed the card to him. “Lawsuits ’R’ Us. Good name for a firm. All the names on the firm are mob names. Guido, Jimmy Fingers, Pot Luck Sal.” He turned the card over to the back and said, “Omerta or your money back—guaranteed.”
“Stop it,” Jack said. “We need to get Mindy alone.”
“Maybe she’s claiming a common-law marriage to clean him out.”
Jack called Angelina and put her on speakerphone. “What did you find for us?” Jack asked.
“How long have you got?” Angelina said.
“We’re on our way to the morgue,” Jack said.
She gave him the abridged version. Sonny’s background was need-to-know because of his employment with the Task Force, and she was still working her way around it. Same for Sonny’s team. She could get EPD personnel files, bank records, birth records, etcetera for anyone on the police department, but the feds protected their own.
“Angelina, we’re pulling into the morgue. I’ll have to call you back,” Jack said. She hadn’t started on Mindy or Sully.
Chapter 13
They arrived at the coroner’s office. Liddell parked next to a black Mercedes sedan with deeply tinted windows and Massachusetts tags. “Sully’s probably serving papers on the corpse, pod’na,” he said.
Jack and Liddell went to the front door and the lock buzzed open immediately. Little Casket was standing with her arms folded across her chest, her face set in an expression that could either be normal for her, that is, a resting bitch face, or it could mean she was ready to throw someone through a window. Minus the profanity, the gist of what she said was, “If I talk to this man anymore I’ll gut him.”
“Where are they?” Jack asked.
She crooked a finger and they followed her to a room marked PRIVATE. Jack opened the door and Sully jumped to his feet. “Did you put this woman up to this? I demand you stop jerking the widow around and let us see the body,” he said to Jack.
Lilly pushed Jack aside and got into Sully’s face so fast he stumbled backward and plopped down in a chai
r.
“Number one,” Lilly said angrily, “no one puts me up to anything. Number two, you aren’t in a position to demand squat. Number three, you aren’t going to view the deceased. If you can count, which I seriously am beginning to doubt, that adds up to ‘keep your ass in that chair or get the hell out of my building’!”
Sully said, “I protest and—”
Lilly’s thick-lensed glasses focused on him like a mean kid burning ants with a magnifying glass.
“Miss Middleton is in my office,” Little Casket said to Jack. “You detectives can go with her to identify the deceased.”
She shooed Jack and Liddell out of the room and stepped out, pulling the door shut with a bang.
“That went well,” Jack said.
“Asshole,” Lilly said, loud enough for the corpse to hear, and led them to her office.
“Lilly Eastwood.” Liddell said softly to Jack. “Did she count to six or only count to three? Well to tell you the truth in all the excitement I kind of lost track myself.”
Without turning, Lilly said, “Do ya feel lucky? Well—do ya, Bigfoot?”
“No ma’am,” Liddell said.
Jack and Liddell entered Lilly’s office. Mindy was staring out of the window. Lilly said, “I’ll give you a few minutes,” and shut the door gently.
Mindy turned toward the detectives. She was a different person from the one they had met earlier. This Mindy had sobered considerably, unless this morning was all an act. Third option—Mindy was bipolar.
“Thank you for being patient with me this morning,” Mindy said. “It was—it still doesn’t seem real.”
“Do you want to talk to us without your attorney, Miss Middleton?” Jack asked.
She smiled. “Yes. I’d like that. I’m sorry about this morning. That’s just Sully being Sully. He can be overprotective sometimes,” Mindy said. “Can you tell me what happened? How did he…?”
Jack wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He didn’t want to give her a detailed description of the wounds. “That’s what we’re here to find out,” Jack said. “The autopsy will be performed and give us those answers. Finding Sonny’s killer is our first priority,” Jack said.
