Double Fake, Double Murder (A Carlos McCrary, Private Investigator, Mystery Thriller Series Book 2)

by Dallas Gorham

  “Okay, I guess.” He went back inside.

  Clint pointed. “The dude was shining his light all over this area here.”

  Chuck pulled out a Maglite and dropped to his hands and knees. “I’ll take the steps. Jorge, you start at that end of the wall with Snoop’s Maglite. Snoop’s too old to get on his hands and knees.”

  “I am not, but I’m too smart to get down when I have one of you youngsters to do it for me.” He handed his Maglite to Jorge. “Go for it, big guy.”

  Chuck had examined a few feet when he saw it wedged between the concrete step and the asphalt paving. “I found what Murphy was looking for. It’s a brass casing.”

  #

  Bigs walked over with traffic cones and crime scene tape.

  “I promised the owner we wouldn’t block his entrance,” said Chuck.

  “Tell him I’ll punch his TS card.” Bigs unrolled the crime scene tape and blocked off the entrance to the building from the edge of the parking lot to the front door.

  Clint whispered to Chuck. “What’s a TS card?”

  Chuck smirked. “An Army joke. It means tough shit. If you get twenty-five punches on your TS card, you get a free visit with the chaplain.”

  Bigs frowned Chuck into silence, but he suppressed a smile. “Okay, Chuck, show me what you found.”

  Chapter 81

  Mabel Magruder, known by friend and adversary alike as Mabel the Marauder, sat on one side of the conference table with her assistant DA Tomás Estacado, Bigs, and Kelly. Abe and Diane sat with Chuck and Snoop across the table from them.

  Darcy Yankton and Jorge Castellano were wedged into one end of the table. Jorge winked at Chuck. Darcy looked uncomfortable, but she always looked uncomfortable around Chuck. Bad chemistry.

  Kelly smiled at Chuck for the first time in weeks. She gave him a thumbs-up.

  Handshakes all around, friendlier than Chuck expected, except for Darcy. She didn’t look at him. She must feel guilty for firing me. Chuck winked at her, but she didn’t see it.

  Snoop did and he smirked.

  Chuck waited.

  Magruder cleared her throat. “There have been new developments in the Garrison Franco murder case. Also the Smoot murder case.” She nodded to Estacado, who passed around a thin stack of papers.

  “Let’s look at the top sheet first,” Magruder said.

  It was a “ten set” of fingerprints. Dan Murphy’s name was at the top and a single exemplar was at the bottom, a partial print.

  “Detective Contreras, please tell us the results of your analysis of the shell casing found at the site of the Garrison Franco murder.”

  “Three days ago, Carlos McCrary called us from the parking lot of the building at 8524 Northwest Second Avenue. He said he found a shell casing that he believed was evidence in the Franco murder.”

  She read from a notebook. “Detective Bigelow and I went there with a CSI team. We extracted a nine-millimeter shell casing from a crack in the pavement. It was consistent with the bullets used to kill Garrison Franco. On the casing, we found a partial fingerprint. See the first page for the comparison. It had enough points of similarity to determine that the print came from Dan Murphy’s left little finger.”

  “And what else did you discover about that shell casing?” Magruder asked.

  Kelly looked straight at Chuck and grinned. “We determined from the firing pen mark that it was not fired from Jorge Castellano’s service pistol.”

  Kelly referred to her notes. “We obtained a search warrant for Dan Murphy’s service pistol, a Glock 17. We compared its firing pen mark and proved that Murphy’s pistol had, in fact, fired the shell. See page two of the sheets you were given earlier.”

  Abe spoke up. “Wait a minute. You mean the shell casing was fired from Murphy’s pistol, but the bullet that killed Franco came from Castellano’s gun?”

  Chuck said, “Not quite, Abe. Murphy switched the barrel from Jorge’s Glock with the barrel from his own Glock. The parts are interchangeable; it takes just a few seconds. Murphy used his own gun to shoot Franco and the bullet had the markings from Jorge’s gun barrel.”

  Jorge smacked himself in the forehead. “Estupido, estupido, estupido. Dan offered to clean my gun after we went to the firing range a few months ago. That’s when he switched the barrels. Then he bided his time until he could hit Franco.”

  Abe said, “But Murphy had to switch them back before the ballistics test.”

  Chuck nodded. “He did that after Jorge was arrested. Jorge’s gun was in the evidence locker. As a detective, Murphy had access to the locker.”

  He looked at Kelly. “Check the security footage for the evidence locker. I’ll bet you a steak dinner that Murphy went into the locker right after Jorge’s Glock was put in there.”

  Kelly tuned to Bigs. “Make a note to do that.”

  Magruder looked at her notes. “Detective Contreras, please tell us the results of the search warrant you executed at Dan Murphy’s residence.”

  “Page three is a picture of a tray found in Murphy’s garage. The tray is slotted for a set of Craftsman 12- , 17- , and 25-inch pry bars. As you can see, the 12-inch and 25-inch pry bars were in the tray. The 17-inch slot was empty.”

  She consulted her notes again. “We made a diligent search for the 17-inch pry bar but did not find it.”

  She nodded at Chuck. “Chuck gave us evidence that Dan Murphy purchased an identical pry bar set from Harry’s Handy Hardware store earlier this year. Pages four and five are copies of the credit card slip and cash register tape for the purchase. The credit card slip and the cash register tape are not originals. We obtained them from the computerized records at Harry’s regional headquarters in Miami.”

  She waited for everyone to find the copies. “You all may remember that we found a 17-inch Craftsman pry bar consistent with the missing pry bar in Carlos McCrary’s desk.”

  Kelly looked at Magruder and Estacado. “It had no fingerprints on it. That pry bar matched the impressions we took of the marks left when the killer broke into Smoot’s apartment.”

  Kelly smiled at Snoop before turning to face Magruder. “Raymond Snopolski sent us this office surveillance footage from McCrary Investigations’ office.” She played the video. “Mr. Snopolski also found footage from four different surveillance cameras along the route from Ted Smoot’s apartment to Carlos McCrary’s office.”

  Snoop authenticated the videos he had found.

  Kelly played the footage. “These videos show a blue Corolla sedan identical to Jessica Murphy’s car. The Corolla drives from the vicinity of Smoot’s apartment to the intersection a block from McCrary Investigations. A traffic camera caught the Corolla turning right seven minutes before the intruder broke into McCrary’s office.”

  Magruder closed the folder. “Mr. McCrary, we are this close,” she held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart, “to dropping the charges against you, but we don’t know Murphy’s motive. We thought you could enlighten us.”

  Chuck answered, “Murphy had no motive for killing Smoot. Other than that he was a no good scumbag parasite who leeched off other people, and he deserved whatever comeuppance he got. I was Murphy’s target all along. I was this close,” he held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart and smiled at Magruder, “to proving that Murphy killed Franco. Murphy didn’t know that. He still doesn’t, as far as I know. But maybe he figured out that it would be a good idea to distract me.”

  Chuck glanced at Yankton. She looked away.

  “Murphy pretended to help me with Jorge’s case. He sent me after Smoot to distract me from the real killer. It worked. I went after Smoot like a hound after a raccoon.”

  Magruder smiled.

  Chuck continued. “When I talked with Murphy about Smoot, he offered to help and brought a copy of the PCPD file to me at my condo. He did this so he could get inside my condo. He stole my Smith & Wesson revolver from the nightstand, killed Smoot with it, and framed me for the murder.”

  Magruder looked a
t Estacado. “Drop the charges against McCrary.”

  Chuck said, “No.”

  Magruder looked shocked. “You don’t want the charges dropped?”

  “Ma’am, right now Murphy knows that he’s under suspicion for something. And that’s because homicide executed a search warrant against him. He may not know which crime you suspect him of. And he doesn’t know all that you found or how strong the case against him is. I’d like it to stay that way until I nail down his motive for killing Franco.”

  She turned to Estacado. “You heard the man. Leave the charges active.”

  Magruder turned back to Chuck. “Let’s talk about the Franco murder. Chuck, how do you think that went down?”

  He looked at Darcy Yankton. “Darcy, you want Jorge to tell this?”

  She shook her head. “Until the charges are dropped, I don’t want my client to say anything.”

  “Fair enough.” Chuck turned his attention back to the DA. “After Murphy switched gun barrels with Jorge, he bought three burner phones from three different discount stores. He paid cash.”

  “You have evidence?”

  “Evidence is my middle name.” Nobody smiled. Sometimes comedic talent goes unrecognized and unappreciated, Chuck thought.

  “I analyzed the cellphone records for Jorge and Franco and discovered that they both received calls a few minutes apart from two different numbers originating at the same cellphone tower near Murphy’s home. And the anonymous 9-1-1 call that reported the murder later came from a third number. That call originated at a tower between the murder site and Murphy’s home. Kelly and Bigs had all three phone numbers in the murder book they gave me, but they hadn’t tied them together. Look at the next two pages for the phone records.”

  Chuck waited for the others to find the copies before continuing. “I went to the cellphone company and got the Electronic Serial Numbers for all three phones. From those, we found the manufacturer and the time each phone was initialized. The manufacturers provided us with the stores each phone was shipped to. Based on the driving time between each store and the activation time, the buyer drove directly from store to store.”

  Bigs looked at Snoop. “Tell the DA how you know Murphy bought them.”

  Snoop cleared his throat. “I went to each discount store where the phones were sold. I watched the surveillance video at each store’s electronics counter at the time the phones were activated. The videos showed all three purchases.”

  Chuck said, “The next three pages are screen grabs from the videos showing Murphy buying each of the phones.” Again he waited for the others to study the photos. “Snoop—I mean Mr. Snopolski—provided Detectives Bigelow and Contreras with copies of the videos. As you can see, the same guy bought all three phones and he wore a Tennessee Titans hat—not very common around here—and sunglasses at each store, but it was Murphy all right.”

  “How can you be sure?’ Magruder asked.

  Bigs answered. “When Snoop gave us the videos, we went to the discount stores’ parking lot cameras. We found one good picture of a guy in a Titans hat getting into Murphy’s car.”

  Chuck turned to Kelly. “Did you and Bigs take any of Murphy’s clothes into evidence?”

  “Yeah. No Titans hat. We tested all dark clothing and gloves for GSR too. Nothing.”

  “He dumped the clothing.”

  Chuck turned back to Mabel the Marauder. “Murphy used a burner phone to call Franco first and told him to come to meet him at the 8500 block of Northwest Second Avenue.”

  “Why would Franco fall for that?”

  Chuck shrugged. “Any number of reasons. Murphy may have threatened him. Murphy’s a tough cop. Or Murphy could have told Franco that he had evidence to put him away for drug dealing, but that he would take a bribe. You could construct several scenarios which Murphy could use to lure Franco to the murder scene.”

  Magruder said, “And then he called Castellano and pretended to be the informer?”

  “Right. And he used an electronic voice changer to disguise his voice. He had to set the meet with Franco before he called Jorge. After he and Jorge set up near the bogus meeting site, Murphy muted his phone so Jorge wouldn’t hear him. He jogged over to the murder scene—we found surveillance video of him running down 84th street—and he laid in wait for Franco with Jorge’s gun barrel installed in his own gun. The next two pages are screen grabs from those videos but the picture quality is terrible. After the shooting, he policed his brass.”

  Chuck looked over at the two detectives. “But Murphy missed one shell which fell in a crack. That’s why Clint Watkins saw him use that flashlight. He was looking for his brass. He must have seen that shell in the crack, but he couldn’t reach it. He took his gloves off to make his fingers smaller and tried to reach it again. That’s when his little finger left the print.”

  Chuck looked at Darcy. “Then he jogged back to his car on 84th Street, where we found the second surveillance videos of our mystery jogger. The next page is another screen grab of that video. And on his way home, he used the last burner phone and called 9-1-1 to report the murder he had just committed.”

  Magruder said, “What was Murphy’s motive, Chuck? Why did he have it in for Castellano?”

  “I don’t have the whole story.”

  He glanced at Darcy and Jorge. “And if Jorge and his counsel approve, I’d like to ask you not to drop the charges against Jorge. Same reason I don’t want you to drop my charges.”

  Darcy looked at Jorge. He shrugged, nodded. “Okay, Chuck. I trust you.”

  Chapter 82

  Chuck and Clint had finished another five-mile run on the boardwalk.

  “Clint, I’ll have this murder mess cleared up pretty soon.”

  “I figured you would.”

  “After I do that, Grandpa and Grandma will go back to Texas.”

  “I figured that too.”

  “Let’s get some ice cream. What do you want this time?”

  “Fudge Ripple and, uh, Black Walnut.” He grinned. “Black like me.”

  “And I’ll take a double scoop of Dark Chocolate. Also like you.”

  They laughed.

  They walked and ate on their cones for a few minutes.

  “Chuck, you got something on your mind, I can tell.”

  “You’re right. I do.” He took a bite off his cone.

  “You always tell me not to delay the inevitable.”

  Chuck had to laugh. “Clint, how are things at Port City Prep? They treating you okay?”

  “Yeah, they’re okay. You’re stalling, dude.”

  “You know this living with me was never intended to be permanent. My goal was to help you prepare for the real world. You’ve made great strides.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  Chuck stopped walking. “Port City Prep has a resident student program. They have dormitories, like at a college.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “How would you feel if I enrolled you as a resident student?”

  “Dude, that would cost a lot of money. Who’s gonna pay for that?”

  “I will.”

  Clint finished his cone before answering. “Man, that’s pretty drastic.”

  “I talked to your tutor. She says you’d fit into their sophomore program. They have a good basketball program too. You’re tall enough and, God knows, you’re fast enough.”

  Clint did the Ali shuffle that he had done the first time he outran Chuck. “I’d like that.”

  “The thing is, you’ve attended the school as a tutoring customer. No red tape. I pay for the tutor’s time.” He put a hand on Clint’s shoulder. “Enrolling you as a full-time student requires paperwork.”

  “So?”

  “I have no legal standing with you. I’m not a guardian ad litem, I’m not a foster parent, I’m not a relative. I’m a friend.”

  Clint frowned. “What’s a guardian ad litem?”

  “That’s a guardian appointed by a court to protect the interests of a minor.”

&
nbsp; He nodded. “So what you getting at, man?”

  Chuck put a hand on Clint’s shoulder. “We need to get your mother to sign off on the enrollment application.”

  Clint’s lips tightened. His eyes narrowed. He stopped and looked out over the ocean. Tears welled in his eyes.

  Chuck waited.

  “We got no choice, do we, bro’?” The tears spilled down Clint’s cheeks.

  Chapter 83

  The block started with an abandoned parking lot surrounded by a hurricane fence topped with rusty barbed wire.

  Hand-lettered signs on a nondescript building had been painted on the faded gold paint. “We buy Rims, Amps, TVs. Buy and Sell Gold.” But the narrow steel door was barred and padlocked.

  The only signs of life were at the second building. Numbers 8010 and 8012, where The Uptown/Downtown Pawn Shop featured E-Z Check Cashing, 10% Loans, Tools, Jewelry. The remainder of the building at 8014 was a nameless “Coin Laundry.” The barred windows and doors looked off-putting. Nevertheless, two women sat inside watching their clothes turn in the dryers.

  The last time Chuck had been here, he’d taken pictures of Rasta Man Ashante Derringer dealing drugs on the sidewalk in front.

  Clint pointed. “Stop at the pawn shop. Old Mose runs it.”

  Chuck parked in front of the shop where four men in assorted ghetto attire were having a half-hearted conversation on the sidewalk.

  They ignored Clint and looked at Chuck with dead eyes.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen. It’s nice to see you too.” He followed Clint inside.

  An old black man sat on a high stool behind the barred counter. “Hey, Sneakers. I ain’t seed you in a while. You looks like you all growed up now. How you been, nigga’?” Then he saw Chuck and froze.

  Clint gave his head one slight shake. The message was clear: Don’t say anything.

  Chuck didn’t.

  “He cool, Mose. He work for me.”

  Mose looked Chuck up and down for a few seconds. “Doing what?”

  “He my bodyguard.”

  “Whaddya need a bodyguard for, nigga’?”