by LS Sygnet
“Now would either one of you care to tell me why I’ve walked into a hostile interrogation this morning?”
“The orderly, Nate, he was run down last night on Hennessey Island as he left work last night. Helen did a little digging while we waited for you to show up. The accident happened shortly after eleven-thirty last night.”
Wendell’s eyes narrowed to tight slits. “I see. So I’m to assume that every corpse that turns up under suspicious circumstances is now my handiwork. Is that how this works now, Helen?”
“Dad, I didn’t mean –”
“I think perhaps it’s time that we actually discuss my so-called body count. Exactly how many people do you think I’ve killed?”
I shrank away from the anger. “I don’t know,” meekly.
“Don’t play the wounded woman with me, young lady. You’ve been dropping hints about who I killed, if I ever took money for jobs, all sorts of nonsense since you came back into my life, so how about we just dispense with all the secrecy right here and now.”
No way would I be able to soften his anger with the repentant child ploy. I doubted that I’m the mother of your grandchildren would hold much sway either. My hands perched on my hips. “All right, Daddy. Let’s have the conversation. I found your files in the safety deposit box in the Cayman Islands. Did you think that your little version of shorthand would be incomprehensible to me? There were hundreds of sizable deposits, Daddy, and encrypted names, newspaper clippings. And let’s not forget that I know what you did to rescue Thomas Peterson.”
The smile chilled me to the bone. Datello took two steps back, practically hid behind me.
“I did make sure Thomas Peterson’s father never harmed him again. That boy was about to set his own father on fire, Helen. Would you have done differently? Don’t lie to me. I know about Ronnie Czerny. I know about Scott Madden, if you’d like a more recent example of your rather fluid interpretation of justice.
“For the record, I did not murder hundreds of people who got away with murder or horrific child abuse. There were exactly five. And those deposits? Simply gratitude from very relieved people of means who never forgot that justice is blind, even when juries are both stupid and incompetent. Some people understand that there is a difference between reasonable doubt and all doubt.”
“Five?” I echoed. “You honestly expect me to believe that a hundred million dollars came from five families who appreciated the justice of Wendell Eriksson?”
Datello’s relief radiated behind me. “Helen, if I’d met your father twenty or even thirty years ago, I’d have paid twice that much if Sully simply vanished.”
Wendell looked like Danny’s consent was all the validation he ever needed. “Did you never question why the account grew so much after my arrest?”
“There were some very wise investments.”
Dad cursed and turned away from me. “There were two very wealthy people who wanted to make sure I had an adequate defense fund, Helen.”
“Who were they?” I demanded. “And why did you make sure I didn’t hire a competent attorney for you? Do you have any idea how guilty I’ve felt for all these years because I listened, because I didn’t lift a finger to make sure you were acquitted?”
“Yes, Helen, I know you felt guilty. I knew you would, but I figured it was better than the alternative. Now that the world believes I’m dead, it’s moot. The reasons I did what I did no longer matter.”
“I think they matter to her, Wendell,” Datello said quietly. “I never had the opportunity to ask my father why he worked for Sully Marcos. Family or no, his feelings for my mother aside, I needed to know why he’d have anything to do with a monster like Uncle Sully.”
“She had a better life without me, Danny,” Dad said. “I’ve already explained this to her. If I had been acquitted, her career would’ve never happened.”
“Some things are more important than work,” Danny said.
“Tell me that, Helen. Tell me that you regret the job that brought you here, to this place, to the man who loves you and gave you the children you’ll have this fall! Tell me you regret it!”
“I hate all of it,” I screamed. “I hate it because it made me see an uglier truth than even the horrible things you’ve done, Daddy. I hate it because it turned me into a killer who can’t trust anybody. I hate it because I know now that I’ve never been this person I thought I knew.”
“Do you think I like this part of life? Do you think it was easy for me to hear the terrible things you’ve faced alone because I wasn’t there for you? If I thought it would heal your heart, I’d drive out to Hennessey Island right now and kill Lyle Henderson, Helen. But I know it won’t help. I know it won’t give us the answers that we all want, that we all need!”
Danny’s hand rested on the small of my back. He gave me a gentle push forward. It didn’t take much. Dad’s arms folded me into the embrace that I’d missed for all of my adult life.
“We’ll get our answers, Sprout, and by God, this thing isn’t going to wreck us. Do you understand me? We are Erikssons, dammit. We may be down, but we do not give up!”
I nodded and wept onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t run that boy down, Helen, but I have a very strong suspicion about who did.”
“Who?” the question was muffled against his shirt.
“Whoever Lyle’s partner is. He made a phone call shortly after Nate left his apartment. He’s got a partner, Helen, one that I suspect drives the vehicle that killed another potential witness. I can say many things about Lyle Henderson but none of them reveal a man with more than great ambition.”
I lifted my head and peered at my father.
Datello beat me to the punch. “What does that mean?”
“He was a man of grand – and grandiose – ideas, but doing the work to see them come to fruition? Not Lyle. For God’s sake, Helen. Use your head. He used his step-daughter to support his church, let her risk her neck and mine to make sure he had enough money to live the lifestyle he always wanted.”
“The armored cars you robbed…”
“Yes, Helen. I was the one who chose the targets. Marie wouldn’t have lasted five minutes on her own. When this mess started, you were far too young to take care of yourself. I couldn’t risk your safety.”
My focused sharpened like the point of a blade. “Who planned the last heist, Dad?”
He grinned. “Who do you think? You were safely away at college, Helen. I was done with Marie’s ridiculous threats. And I didn’t lift a finger to help her that night, which was why she killed the armored guards.”
“And why she tried to kill you.”
He nodded. “Indeed. Didn’t quite work out the way she planned.”
“So your point is that Lyle Henderson isn’t a mastermind,” Danny said. “If not him, then who is it?”
“That’s what we need to discover. And I’m pretty sure that’s why people connected to this ring are dropping like flies,” Dad said. “I suspect that even Lyle is expendable, but he’s too arrogant to realize it.”
“Lowe too,” I said. “I’m sure he knows more about everything in this city than he’s willing to share with the world.”
“Lowe?” Dad and Datello vied to drown each other out.
“Yes,” I said calmly. “Before I picked up my breakfast this morning, I made a little detour to Dunhaven. As I suspected, Jerry was more than willing to talk to me. And before the two of you throw fits, I was perfectly safe. He didn’t threaten me, and I got a few answers to questions that have been nagging me for months.”
Dad fumed under his breath while I explained the substance of my conversation with Jerry Lowe that morning. Danny’s expression was an odd hybrid of wonder and horror. It slowly eroded into a scowl.
“Wait a minute. Back up, Helen. Lowe implied that he didn’t have anything to do with Varden and Kelly visiting you in D.C.?”
I nodded. “I can’t quite take him at his word, though. Let
’s not forget this is Jerry Lowe we’re talking about.”
“But he did mention that Rodney Martin had inquired about them.”
“Yes,” I said. “He also admitted that Martin told him that Hardy and Weber were considering making a job offer to me at his suggestion.”
“But that doesn’t mean Lowe was the only one Rodney informed about their plans,” Danny said. “Exactly how well did you know Rodney Martin, Helen?”
“Vaguely at best.” I explained how we met, that I was a teaching assistant at UCLA while Rodney completed his undergraduate studies. “He was in the abnormal psychology class I taught on occasion.”
“Before or after you helped law enforcement in California close the case that brought you to the attention of the FBI?” Dad asked.
“Before,” Datello said. Martin was already climbing the ranks of the Darkwater Bay police when Helen landed on my radar.”
“Interesting,” Dad mused.
“Would either one of you care to tell me why?”
Datello looked at Dad.
Dad looked at me. “Do we really need to explain this?”
“Apparently you do. Let’s just credit it to my dulled mental capacities for the time being and assume that I’m not connecting the normally obvious dots.”
“Helen, Rodney Martin was a climber. I was more qualified to be a police captain than he was,” Danny said. “He was a suit, someone with piss poor instincts, but lots of ambition.”
I snorted. “Ambition again. Is the lack of hard work a trait he shared with Lyle Henderson?”
“I’m pretty sure it is,” Danny said. “I think what occurred to your father and me is that Rodney Martin’s murder might’ve had nothing to do with Jerry Lowe’s attempts to evade capture, and everything to do with silencing another person who knew too much about the human trafficking conspirators.”
I frowned. “He did invite me to Darkwater Bay for a visit after graduation.”
“Yours or his?” Dad asked.
“His. I had at least two years left of clinical and research and coursework before I completed my doctorate.”
“And what happened when you came to town?”
“We had dinner once, and then he basically ignored me for the duration of my visit. I spent most of my time holed up in a hotel room working on…”
“Yes?” Dad prompted. “Working on what?”
“A monograph,” I said. “It was the first I ever compiled alone, on a case that never was closed, but it got the attention of my advisor to the point that when CBI came knocking for a psychological profile, my professor recommended that they turn the case files over to me.”
“Did Rodney know what you were working on?”
“We spoke nearly every day, mostly excuses from him why he had to postpone dinner and my grand tour of the city. He was meeting with important people who could help launch his career.”
Dad started shaking his head half way through my last statement. “No, Helen. No. That’s not how it works. When you apply to a local jurisdiction, you go through the police academy just like every other applicant. There is no palm greasing required.”
“There would be if Rodney wanted to assure a rapid climb up the ladder,” Danny said. “He was what, thirty-four, thirty-five when he died?”
I nodded. “Thirty-five.”
“He, like Jerry Lowe, was one of the youngest officers to ever successfully pass the captain’s exam and be promoted. Jerry Lowe knows why that happened. As I recall, he doubted the need for another captain of robbery homicide at Central Division, since he was there and could provide direct oversight to the squad.”
“Then what are you saying, Danny?” Dad asked.
“I think I’m right. Rodney Martin was the first potential information leak that was plugged. And why did that happen? Think about it Helen. Think about what Lowe told you this morning about Rodney.”
“He inquired about Kelly and Varden?”
Datello smiled coldly. “And lo and behold, who turned up in Washington looking for you shortly thereafter?”
“Rodney knew who hired Kelly and Varden,” I breathed. “The FBI showed up, following me, stumbled on them following me. Jesus Christ!” I leapt toward the phone on the wall.
“What’re you doing, Helen?”
“I need to talk to David Levine, Dad.”
“We’re dragging him back into this?”
“You don’t understand,” I said. “David saw the man who hired Kelly and Varden. All this time, I assumed he saw them meeting with Lowe. The description matched the man we were looking for, the one who raped Carrie Blevins. When it turned out to be Lowe, I assumed that was who David saw meeting with them. I need him to see a picture of Jerry Lowe and tell me if that was the person he saw before they discouraged my two new shadows from following me anymore.”
Chapter 26
He answered the phone quickly. “Johnny?”
“Hate to disappoint you. It’s just me.”
Another chair, this one a little less familiar than the one I knew so well, creaked in the background. “Helen,” a little warily.
“David, I’m sorry I’ve been so mental lately. Can you really blame me for the stress of all of this wearing me down?”
“I don’t blame you. That didn’t make your accusations more palatable. I’ve done nothing but support you and try to make sure that the truth of what happened to Rick Hamilton isn’t obscured by some bastard looking to cut a better deal.”
Bile bubbled in my belly. I noticed that he was careful not to say the truth of Rick’s suicide. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Johnny warned me that you’d probably call in the throes of remorse eventually.”
“Did he now,” I filed that tidbit for a later skirmish. “Well, in this instance, he’s right, and I am sorry about my unfounded paranoia.”
“Apology accepted, though I know you too well to believe that’s the only reason you called me.”
“You make me sound like a monster, David. Why can’t that be the only reason I called?”
“Because you never apologize unless you have no other choice. Now what information do I have that you think is the fastest path to whatever you want now?”
Speaking of filing grievances for later airing, I did it again. My fingers bit into the plastic phone. “It’s this thing with Jerry Lowe. I had a nightmare last night.” Only a partial lie. I tried to squelch the protests of my conscience by reminding myself of that fact, and the one that was foremost in my brain. David was lying to me, had been for a very long time.
“Honey,” he said , that voice that always soothed me because of the compassion it conveyed didn’t quite do it for me this morning. “Jerry Lowe can’t hurt you again.”
“I know that, David. But if he’s found incompetent to stand trial, he could conceivably be unleashed on Darkwater Bay again. I’m not really in the mood to uproot my life to hide from another psychopath who blames me for his downfall.” Total lie. I’d so be out of here by sundown if I thought it would make a difference.
“What can I do to help?”
“I was thinking about all the crimes Jerry wasn’t charged with this morning. Remember those two private investigators you discouraged from following me?”
“Sure,” he said. The relaxation in his tone was unmistakable. David bought the rationale for my call completely. “What about them?”
“They refused to tell the police who hired them to follow me, even though Briscoe said they were caught red handed with property they stole from my hotel room. Guys like that didn’t leave a paper trail that the police could follow, so –”
“Since Seleeby and I saw them with the mystery man who turned out to be Jerry Lowe, you thought it might help tack some more charges onto his indictment.”
“Is that a bad idea?”
“No, my dear, it’s not. I assume that Lowe is now listed in ViCAP as the perpetrator in a number of now closed cases.”
“He is.”
“Jerry?
Gerald?”
“Jerome, Lowe with an E,” I listened to his fingers clack over a keyboard, then a grunt of consternation floated into my ear. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?”
“That’s not the man I saw meet with those sleazy investigators, Helen. I’m sorry.”
“There’s no resemblance whatsoever?”
“They’re both tall with dark hair, and not particularly muscle bound. Beyond that, the similarities aren’t even close. This man was much older than Jerry Lowe.”
“But he had dark hair.”
“Some men do color, my dear. Not that I was close enough to tell. But no, this guy had more weathering in his face. Of course, Kelly and Varden probably had a great many clients and not just Jerry Lowe.”
“Are you sure you got a good enough look at him, David? Could you be mistaken?”
“Seleeby was driving. I got a very good look at the man, and I’m telling you, he wasn’t Jerry Lowe.”
“You told me he was some nobody.”
“Yes, but that was in the context of one of the people known as an associate of Danny Datello,” David said. “Those men have a certain aura, Helen. They don’t meet at venues like the one we followed your PI’s to.”
“Where did they meet?”
“Outside your amphitheater, Helen. The marquee said there was some sort of opera playing. It wasn’t exactly a location frequented by thugs in the lower ranks of organized crime figures.”
“All right. Well, I suppose that’s another dead end then. Let’s just hope that the judge sees the deception in Lowe’s insanity plea before the next competency hearing.”
David hesitated for half a beat. “Helen, are you sure we’re solid?”
I forced the pause out of my reply. “As a rock. Please don’t let my mood swings make you doubt it, David. This pregnancy will end, and the friend you know will return.”
“Have you told Johnny you’re having nightmares again?”
“No…”
“Helen, is that wise? It’s these little miscommunications that tend to explode like hydrogen bombs between the two of you. He should be the first person you call when something worries you now. You don’t need to protect him from your fears, you know.”
