by Rick Reed
She blinked and it was like someone turned the lights off behind her eyes. The other Mindy was back.
“I mean, yeah. Sure,” she said in her strong Bronx accent. “My Sonny would want me to talk to you. He liked you two guys. My Sonny was always saying what a cop’s cop you was, Detective Murphy,” Mindy said. She smiled at Liddell and said, “He thought a lot of you too, Detective Blanchard. I remember seeing you and your wife while we was out eating.”
Jack was pretty sure they’d covered all this earlier.
She continued, “Sully can be an asshole, but he’s always been good to me and Sonny. When we moved here he loaned Sonny enough to build the house. And don’t even ask how much it cost. Sonny never told me, and my ma always said, ‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth.’ Ya know?”
“Nicer than the place you came from, I’ll bet,” Liddell said.
“Not only ‘yeah’ but ‘hell yeah’! It’s a mansion compared to the two-story brownstone we had in Boston. I was sick of that place, sick of that whole neighborhood. Sonny came out and got us set up. The house was built when I got here. Said he wanted to surprise me. And boy was I surprised.” Her eyes lit up. She was adrift on a sea of emotions with no one at the helm.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this. See Sonny, I mean,” she said. “Sully said Sonny was really messed up, but he said Sonny died quick-like. He wouldn’t say how.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Jack said, wondering just how much Sully knew. “But if you want to say goodbye, I’ll go in with you. Sonny will be covered with a sheet.”
She asked timidly, “What would you do, Detective Murphy? Do you think he’d want that?”
Jack put a hand on her arm and Liddell opened the door. Jack said, “I would say goodbye. Sonny would want that.”
Jack grabbed a handful of tissues from Lilly’s desk and handed them to Mindy. She gripped his arm and let him lead her down the hall to the viewing room. Any doubt he’d had regarding Mindy as a suspect melted away. She was just what she seemed. Lost and alone.
* * * *
Jack didn’t remove the sheet from Sonny’s battered face. Mindy gently put her palm on the sheet where it covered the side of Sonny’s face. She leaned over, her voice hitched, and tears fell on the sheet. “You was always the one. Wait for me. Love you, Sonny.”
She turned to Jack, eyes brimming, face contorted in grief. Her voice cracked as she said, “Sonny told me you was the guy that made things right. You make him pay for what he did to my Sonny. Promise me.”
Jack wanted to say something comforting, but he heard himself saying, “I’ll pull his wings off.”
She gave him a weak smile.
“Can we call someone to stay with you tonight, Mindy?” Jack asked.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Sully’s staying.”
She looked at Jack’s face. “Why are you surprised? Sully’s not such a bad guy. He’s always been there for me. And I need someone right now. I don’t know what to do next. I mean with Sonny and the house and all.”
Jack said, “I understand.”
She took Jack’s arm and let him lead her back toward Little Casket’s office.
“He thinks he’s protecting me,” she said. “He was worried about me when he called a few days ago. It’s like Sully has a second sense—a pre-something—you know, like that Tom Cruise movie where he could see things before they happened.”
Jack knew what she meant, but the fact that Sully had called a few days before the murder, and Sully had called her, not the other way around—he found that very interesting.
So Sully lied when he said Mindy called him.
“Did he call you before or after Sonny hadn’t come home?” Jack asked.
“I think it was after. Maybe I’m not remembering too good.”
“Did he call for Sonny?” Jack asked.
“I’m not sure. Is it important? You can ask him.”
“Did Sonny talk to him?” Jack persisted.
“Not really. Sully talked to me,” she said. “He’s like that. He just called to check up on us. Why you asking?”
Jack said, “That’s my job, Mindy. I ask questions.”
“Oh,” she said.
“What time did Sully come to your house yesterday?”
“You don’t think Sully…”
“Mindy, I don’t know enough to think anything yet.”
“Sully showed up early yesterday morning, before noon I guess. He drove all the way from Boston. That’s a real friend, ya know. He’d never do anything to Sonny. They were like brothers. We was all close.”
“You said Sully was worried,” Jack said.
“Yeah,” she said. “It was strange. It was like Sully knew something was going to happen.”
“What did you and Sully talk about while he was with you?”
“Oh. He asked the usual stuff. How are you? How is Sonny? That kind of stuff. But he just sounded different. Worried. Ya know?”
“Why did he come to see you, Mindy? Was he coming to see Sonny?”
“I’m not sure why he came. Just being a friend, I guess.”
Jack said, “Liddell will be in the office. You can wait with him.”
“Ain’t you coming with me?”
“I want to talk to Sully to straighten some things out,” Jack said truthfully.
“Of course,” she said. “Thanks for being kind, Detective Murphy. My Sonny always said you was a stand-up guy. And you was right. I feel better.”
Jack watched as Mindy entered Lilly’s office and when she was safely out of earshot he opened the door to the room marked PRIVATE to find Lilly standing toe to toe with Sully. Again. Literally. Her tiny feet were almost on top of Sully’s highly shined wing tip shoes, her face turned up, his face bending down. The proverbial shit had hit the fan.
Jack had to yell to get their attention. “What the hell is going on in here?”
Color crept up the collar of Sully’s shirt and spittle formed in the corners of his mouth. “Detective Murphy, I don’t see any reason that this little woman won’t let me accompany my client, my friend, in this most distressing time. She put her hands on me. I want her arrested for battery.”
Little Casket spit the words out. “You will not refer to me as ‘this little woman.’ I’m the Chief Deputy Coroner for Vanderburgh County, State of Indiana. I don’t know where your attitude comes from and I don’t give a shit. You don’t make the rules here. I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
Sully smirked. “I’m sure that’s not the law even in a backwoods town like this.”
Jack said, “Mr. Sullis, you’re correct about the law, but that doesn’t mean she can’t make you leave. As far as viewing the deceased, only a law enforcement officer, preferably the investigator, is allowed to be with the person identifying the remains. You should know that.”
Screw you if you don’t.
Sully’s jaws clamped shut and he said, “I apologize to you Detective, and to you, Deputy Coroner of Vanderburgh County, State of Indiana. In my grief for my old friend I’ve forgotten my manners. Can I have both of your business cards?”
Time to go.
Jack took Sully by the arm and hustled him toward the front exit, saying, “You need to come with me, Counselor.” It wasn’t a request. He muscled Sully outside and pushed him an arm’s distance away. Before the door shut, Jack could see Little Casket standing in the hall mouthing the word “Asshole.”
“Keep your hands off me,” Sully growled. “I’ll have your job.”
Jack said, “You wouldn’t want my job. You’d have to deal with assholes all day.”
Sully was taken aback, no doubt wondering if Jack had just insulted him, but he slowly calmed and said, “You win. I didn’t think I was being the asshole, but I get it. I’ve used your exact words before.”
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“I appreciate your understanding, Counselor. Here’s another one. ‘Some of my best friends are attorneys,’” Jack said, and Sully chuckled. It was at that moment Jack knew Sully for what he was. Or what he had been. Sully was an ex-cop in lawyer’s clothing.
“You used to be a cop,” Jack ventured.
“Good guess,” Sully answered. “Yeah. I had the displeasure for twelve years. I wised up and saw where the real money was at without worrying I’d be sued or killed every minute of the day.”
“Boston PD?” Jack asked.
“Boston PD,” Sully said.
“Can you say ‘Park the car’ for me?” Jack said, and grinned.
“Oh, screw you,” Sully said, but he cracked his first real smile. “That’s bias and labeling and all that good civil rights shit. Just for you, Murphy, and only because you asked nicely.” Sully said, “Park the car.” It came out “Pa’k the ca’h.”
“Yep. You’re from Boston,” Jack said.
“What do you want, Detective Murphy?” Sully asked. The niceties were over.
“I want you to tell me about Sonny, for starters,” Jack said. “I’m not holding anyone’s balls over the fire. Sonny’s only been here a few years, and you two apparently go way back. Did you work together in Boston? I know he came from Boston PD.”
Sully said, “Short version. We were detectives with Boston PD. The job got too complicated. YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram—all that kind of instant shit. Police were being made to wear body cameras. Honestly, I think everyone should wear a body camera and we could all have a good laugh. Cops are being charged with murder because some asshole D.A. wants their head on a platter. I took a partial pension and went to law school. I defend a lot of scumbags, but I also defend cops. You probably think I’m a traitor.”
“I agree with most of what you say, Sully. Still, someone has to do the job. The military is getting the same crap,” Jack said.
“When I quit, Sonny cashed out and came here. We keep in touch. Get together a couple times a year. Like Mindy said, we go fishing.”
Jack asked, “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Been a while,” Sully said noncommittally.
“How long’s a while? A week? A month? A year?”
“Listen, I’ll save you some digging. The last time I talked to Sonny was a few months back. He thought his bosses were out to get him, just like every cop. But he never said anything about someone physically out to harm him. He wasn’t in trouble financially with anyone dangerous—unless you think the bank will kill you over a large mortgage. And Sonny was a tough guy. He could take care of himself. If he’d had problems that he didn’t think he could handle he would have called me. But he didn’t.”
“Are you talking trouble here, or back in Boston?” Jack asked.
“He’s got no enemies there. In Boston, I mean. But doing the job he did here…who knows?”
Jack asked, “You mentioned a large mortgage with a bank. Sonny had to take a huge cut in pay to come here. How deep in the hole was he?” Mindy had said Sully loaned Sonny the money to build the house.
Sully said, “He doted on Mindy. He’d give her both kidneys if she asked. You’ve seen the house. What do you think something like that with the view and acreage would cost around Boston? I’ll tell you. At least five times what it costs here. I didn’t ask him for a financial statement, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Sully rubbed his hands together and blew into them. “Sonny was the superhero type. He needed a cause, a purpose. He felt like he was making a difference here. And Mindy was as happy as I’ve ever seen her. He gave her everything she asked for. Those boobs alone cost him a mint, I can tell you, but she wanted ’em, and Sonny got ’em for her. He was that kind of guy. He’d give you the shirt off his back.”
This didn’t jibe with Mindy saying she thought Sonny was cheating on her. And if Sonny was rich, why did Sully have to loan him the money to build the house? Jack asked, “If Sonny would do anything for Mindy, why would she think he was fooling around? Why did she call you? When did she call you? Why did you have to loan him money?”
“Mindy tell you I loaned Sonny the money for the house?” Sully asked. “All she knows is how to spend it.” Sully raised his hands, and said, “That’s it. No more questions. I’m getting Mindy and taking her home. She hired me, and in that light, I’ve advised her not to answer any more of your questions.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Sullis,” Jack said.
Sully walked past him to the door, hit the buzzer and was admitted. A minute later he came out with Mindy in tow. She was once again subdued and timid, and didn’t speak or glance in Jack’s direction. They got into the black Mercedes sedan that had been backed into Sonny’s garage earlier. He now saw it had Massachusetts license plates that read SO SU ME.
* * * *
The Subway sandwich shop on Walnut Street gave him an unobstructed view down S. Morton Street to the front parking lot of the Vanderburgh County Coroner’s Office. He’d watched a black Mercedes park in front of the coroner’s office. A tall man and a Dolly Parton clone exited the sedan. The tall man was Sully, Vincent Sullis. The busty female was Mindy Middleton, Sonny’s woman.
He had watched Sully put his hands on Mindy’s shoulders and lean down to speak. It was too distant to hear voices, but he could imagine the conversation. It was about Sonny. It was about the boogeyman.
After Sully and Mindy went into the building, he’d unwrapped the six-inch BMT, careful to keep the wrapper across his lap, and took a bite. He had finished eating the BMT when a gold-colored Crown Vic parked near the Mercedes. The detectives working on Sonny’s murder. Jack Murphy and Liddell Blanchard. He didn’t want to go up against those two—many had tried and failed—but if they got between him and his prize…
He wadded the sandwich wrapper, stuffed it inside the plastic bag, and set this on the seat beside him. He’d seen what he needed to see, and besides, he had an appointment a few blocks away. He put the car in gear and thought of how these men had raped his daughter and burned her alive. They had thrown her in a Dumpster like garbage and set her on fire.
He had planned to get together with her the day she was killed. It would be the first time they’d met. He’d talked to her on the telephone and she’d told him she was coming to town early. She’d said, “The early bird catches the worm.” Of course, she meant something entirely different from what he was thinking of doing. He would get this worm too. He’d get them all.
Chapter 14
Jack and Liddell were waiting in the garage at the morgue when the Forensic Pathologist, Dr. John Carmodi, arrived. Sergeant Walker pulled into the lot and they all came in through the garage entrance. Dr. John took off his North Face parka and slipped on mint-green Tyvek coveralls. He tucked a yellow tie embroidered with little black hearses inside the coveralls and zipped up.
“Nice tie, Dr. John,” Liddell remarked.
“I got it at a medical convention last year. Pretty cool, huh?”
Little Casket was waiting in the autopsy room. “Hmpff,” Lilly said, and zipped up a pair of white coveralls. She pulled up the hood and adjusted the protective faceplate over her glasses. Her head resembled a bizarre depiction of a spaceman with bulging eyes.
“Good thing you showed up in there, Jack,” Lilly said.
“I think you could have handled Sully without my help,” Jack said. Sully should never have called Little Casket “this little woman.”
“Wasn’t me that needed help.”
Dr. John stood beside the autopsy table, hosing some of the detritus from around the body, washing it down the stainless-steel table into a drain in the deep, steel double sink. Sergeant Walker watched this operation closely, stopping Dr. John here and there to snap photos or collect some item of interest.
A set of X-rays was clipped to the light b
ox. Several others lay in a pile on the shelf underneath. Lilly had been busy taking X-rays while Jack talked to Sully. One of these showed the victim’s skull and neck.
Lilly motioned to a spot on the X-rays. “Poor bastard,” she said, in a rare display of compassion.
“Jesus H…!” Liddell said, pointing to the thick spikes driven through Sonny’s eye sockets and traversing to the back of the skull. This was the first time he’d seen this. “I guess that’s the cause of death.”
“How would I know? I’m just a glorified receptionist.” Lilly clipped more films to the light box. “Above my pay grade.”
Dr. John moved the X-rays around until he had viewed each. He began his examination of the body starting with the top of the skull. As he carefully parted the hair, he said, “We call the top of the head the skullcap. Did you know skullcap is also a flowering plant? Part of the mint family, I believe.” He continued examining the top and sides of the skull and continued his dissertation on the plant. “Skullcap is used as a medicine for insomnia, anxiety disorders, even strokes.” Under the autopsy table were pedals that operated a boom microphone for a recorder. He depressed the pedal with his foot and described the location and description of cuts, bruises and burns on the scalp.
“Are those spikes part of the mint family too?” Liddell asked.
Dr. John smiled and said, “Those would be a permanent cure for insomnia, wouldn’t they?” He pointed to patterns of black circular burns on the scalp and side of the neck. “Tony, can you get some shots of these?” Walker did.
“We noticed those marks at the scene,” Jack said. “We thought they might be Taser burns.”
Dr. John said, “Maybe. They’re definitely burns. My guess is some type of electrical device. The consistent pattern indicates some type of handheld weapon that I’m not familiar with. See how the scalp hair is scorched around the burns. Do any of you know of something that could make that?”
Walker took a set of black plastic brass knuckles from his back pocket and slipped them on. On top of each knuckle was a pointed nub made of metal. A pressure switch was on the side where it could be operated by the thumb. He pressed the switch and electrical arcs danced across the top of the knuckles. Walker slipped them off and handed them to Dr. John.
