I stepped into the house and saw my dog, Bart Simpson, on the couch in the front room, wagging his tail at the sight of me. He was comfortable and didn’t feel like jumping down to show his affection. I understood that. My mom often kept Bart here at the house if I had to work in the afternoons. She liked the company and so did Bart.
Mom called out, “Bobby, I’m back here.”
I cut through the kitchen into the sunken family room and saw she was sitting on the edge of the couch, talking to a visitor at the far end of the couch. As I was about to apologize for interrupting, my mother turned slightly and I saw her visitor. It was Mike Tharpe.
I stood for a moment, speechless. That doesn’t happen all that often, but I had to gather my thoughts. When he turned and smiled at me, I noticed his black eye where he’d hit the edge of the stairs. It was a satisfying sight, on a certain level.
Tharpe said, “I was just telling your mom that I think I might have found some evidence that will get your brother out of jail.”
“What kind of evidence?” It was clear my mom was buying this bullshit story.
“We think there are two safety-deposit keys that can open a box with the evidence we need. The problem is the keys have gone missing. I was just about to ask her to call you to come over to help me find them. You know, since you’re such a good private investigator and all.”
He had more subtlety in him than I thought. But I let a smile spread across my face so he knew I had both keys and understood what he was saying. I waited as it sank in and said, “How would that help? Doesn’t the district attorney have to be involved?”
Now my mom jumped in, saying, “Don’t cloud the issue, Bobby. He says he can help Natty.”
I said, “Mom, he can do a lot of things, but helping Natty is not one of them.” I could feel the mood change in the room. Not only did my mom stiffen, but Tharpe realized there was no way to do this quietly.
Tharpe stood up and I realized he was still in the same clothes as at his house. He had known that he needed to find me. He must’ve seen me drive away from his house. Damn my big clunker. I had to get a smaller car.
After my mom stood up like she was going to break up a fight between us, I said, “If you don’t think my brother is guilty, then who killed Pete Stahl?”
“Does it really matter?”
“More than you would understand. He was my friend and his family lives here in Marlboro. I can’t let something like that go.”
Tharpe let out a chuckle, but his eyes didn’t show any humor. “That’s very noble of you, dropout. But it’s a big mistake.” He stepped to the side and calmly drew his service weapon, letting it point at the ground. Not too showy, but he got his point across.
It was one thing to threaten me, but no one, and I mean no one, threatens my mom.
CHAPTER 26
A KILLER HAD my mom by the arm and I had never felt so helpless. I had to buy time and engage this creep.
I said, “What’s your plan? Kill a fifty-five-year-old nurse to cover a drug deal?”
My mom mumbled, “Fifty-three.”
Tharpe said, “No one has to die. Just give me the keys and all is forgotten. If not …” He raised the gun to my mother’s head.
Suddenly she realized exactly what was going on and let out a little whimper. This was coming from the toughest woman I had ever known. My stomach flipped. Then I realized Mom didn’t look scared, she looked pissed off. Right then, I knew I had to act. This jerk wouldn’t forget anything. As soon as he had the keys, my mom and I would both be dead and Natty would spend the rest of his life in jail.
My gun was two blocks away in my own house. Then I realized his gun probably didn’t have a bullet in the chamber. Had he checked his gun after I’d knocked the crap out of him? My guess was that he hadn’t.
I raised my hands slowly and said, “Okay, okay. We can work this out.”
I tried to calculate the probability of whether he had checked his gun. Was there a round in the chamber? I shook the idea out of my head. Whatever my calculation revealed, I couldn’t risk my mom’s life on it. I needed Tharpe’s full attention on me. I wanted his anger completely focused on me.
I said, “Typical Marine, threatening a woman.” I took a tiny step backward and to the side.
Tharpe looked at me and said, “A SEAL dropout is questioning Marine honor?” He lowered the pistol from my mom’s head and pointed it in my direction. “You, a goddamn paperboy, think you can cross me.”
I took another step back. The gun followed me and he took a step away from my mother. Now my mom was behind him, and I felt emboldened.
Tharpe said, “I should’ve taken your head off with that crowbar.”
I reached up to feel the Band-Aid that was still stuck to my forehead. At least one mystery was solved.
I said, “You’re not even smart enough to hold on to the key you stole.”
Now the big cop was mad. That meant he wasn’t thinking. I pounced on the moment and said, “I took the bullet out of the chamber when I knocked the shit out of you earlier.” I saw the surprise on his face and knew I had been right.
Then he acted. Quickly. His left hand sprang onto the back of the pistol so he could rack it.
I barreled into him, knocking him back and batting away the pistol before it was operational. We tumbled onto my mom’s new laminate floor, and I got a good shot on his chin with a closed fist.
He didn’t give up. He hit me with an elbow that made me literally see sparkles. I sprang away from him and to my feet. He rolled to one side and was up quickly as well. I glanced around the floor but had no idea where the gun had gone.
We squared off. All I could think was how much I was going to enjoy this. Tharpe had a lot to answer for, and I was about to exact payment. Then I saw movement behind him. I heard a loud thunk and Tharpe dropped to his knees, then lay out flat on the floor.
When I looked up, my mom was holding her heavy cast-iron skillet.
She shook her head and said, “That guy is an asshole.”
“Tell me about it.”
CHAPTER 27
I HANDCUFFED THARPE behind his back and around the legs of a wooden chair with his own set of cuffs. When he came to, he tried to give us a tough expression, but it’s hard to do when you’re trussed up like a steer at a rodeo. It had no effect whatsoever.
I pulled a chair close, but not too close. I eased into it so he could see that I’d taken his pistol, which I had found under the TV, and tucked it into my belt. I said, “Don’t feel bad. You’re not the first victim of my mom’s frying pan. She clocked my brother a couple of months ago. I don’t think he’s right yet. I wish she could back me up on the street sometimes.”
Tharpe glared at me as he growled, “You understand the deep shit you’re in?”
“You think? Let’s call the Ulster County sheriff and let them sort this whole situation out.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and started to punch in numbers.
Tharpe said, “Wait.”
“Why?”
“Maybe we can help each other.”
“I’m listening.”
“If I get the box and you let me run, I’ll give you a video statement that’ll clear your brother.”
“You think that’ll be enough?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell them I did it. I’ll confess to killing Pete. And then I’ll run for the hills.”
“Fine,” I said. “I have both keys. Do you have the code?”
That surprised him. He didn’t realize I’d figured out the details.
Tharpe said, “I have the number of a throwaway phone that I can text. All I have to do is tell them when to meet us at the bank.”
I took the phone from his inside coat pocket, and when he had pointed out the number, I texted, Meet me at the Poughkeepsie bank at 9 AM tomorrow. I looked at Tharpe and said, “Any idea who the silent partner is?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Pete Stahl and Alton Beatty knew. They never would tell me. It was their insurance.
”
A minute later a text came back that said, 9 AM tomorrow. Okay.
Tharpe looked at me and said, “I’ll make the statement right there in the safety-deposit vault, on video, when I have the contents of the box.”
I gave him a hard stare. “Then I’ll never see you again?”
Tharpe smiled and said, “No one will.”
CHAPTER 28
IT HAD BEEN an anxious night at my mother’s house. Keeping a Newburgh detective in custody is a complicated matter. At first my mother insisted on calling the local sheriff’s office, but then she realized this was the best way to get Natty off the hook. I had snatched a couple of hours’ sleep while my mom kept an eye on the handcuffed Tharpe. Now I found myself with the big Newburgh detective handcuffed in the front seat of my car.
We crossed the Hudson to Poughkeepsie in silence. I had taken a couple of passes in front of the north branch of the First Poughkeepsie Financial Services. I’d seen commercials for the private bank in four locations, but I’d never had a reason to visit it before. It operated like a bank, with a savings-and-loan division, and it provided a whole series of safety deposit and financial transaction options. A one-stop shop for drug dealers, money launderers, and divorce attorneys.
I parked in the front lot amid Jaguars and Cadillacs. At least my sagging station wagon was unique. The bank was a faux-stately one-story building that tried to project an aura of dignified commerce but came up short. The place was used by too many scammers and thugs to ever be dignified.
Knowing the harsh gun laws in New York and not knowing what security was like inside the bank, I made a tough decision. I didn’t want a metal detector to get me thrown in jail and ruin my chances of saving Natty, so I hid my gun under the front seat. I was subtle when I slipped it down there and I let Tharpe believe it was still in the pocket of my jacket.
Tharpe had his usual smirk when he said, “Getting nervous?”
“About what? Anything goes wrong and you’re the one who’s in deep shit.”
“What if our partner doesn’t show?”
I looked sideways at him and said, “You know something you’re not saying?”
“Not a thing.”
“Any ideas about who might show up?”
“If your brother wasn’t in the can, I’d say him. So it’s gotta be some other lowlife dealer. I’ll probably recognize him.”
We sat in the car for a minute. I checked out the surroundings. Poughkeepsie is a bigger city than either Marlboro or Newburgh and showed signs of growth. There was a completely different vibe here, with new businesses opening and only a few vacancies in the strip malls. A Poughkeepsie police cruiser passed with two officers in the front seat. It made me remember that technically, I was acting illegally, and I wasn’t sure how many people would believe my story about Mike Tharpe being a murderer.
I looked at Tharpe and said, “We’re going to wait in the lobby.” I patted my pocket where I told him the gun was. “Don’t give me a reason to use this. We have an agreement. You make the video statement and I let you take everything in the box. You know I don’t want to have anything to do with it anyway.”
Tharpe looked at me and said, “And you wait before you tell anyone, so I have a chance to get out of town.”
I nodded. “Agreed.”
He turned so I could use the key on the handcuffs and free his hands. Then we both eased out of the car, feeling each other out. Tharpe looked tired. It didn’t seem like he had any tricks up his sleeve. I let him walk just in front of me as we entered the bank, and I explained to a receptionist, sitting behind a cramped desk, that we wanted to go to the safety-deposit room after our business partner arrived. The pretty, young receptionist motioned us to a small waiting area, where we sat on hard plastic chairs. A velvet rope separated the waiting area from the rest of the lobby, which also served as the entrance to the other sections of the bank.
I looked into the main lobby and evaluated the everyday business the private bank did. There were young mothers with their children and an old couple waiting to speak to a loan officer. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Now I wondered who would show up to meet us. There were too many possibilities to anticipate anything. Tharpe didn’t say a word and looked like he was waiting to visit his stockbroker. Every car that pulled into the lot drew my attention.
Then the one car I didn’t want to see pulled up. A dark-blue BMW. As I watched out the wide window, I saw Katie Stahl emerge from the car and stroll to the front door of the bank, like she was on a normal errand.
Tharpe smiled and said, “Well, well, well, little miss perfect has a dark secret. It makes me like her that much more.”
She hesitated for a moment in the parking lot, staring at us through the window, then regained her composure.
And my heart broke a little bit.
CHAPTER 29
BY THE LOOK on Katie’s face, she didn’t know who she was going to meet, either. She stood at the edge of the waiting area, right in front of us, brown leather car coat with a fur trim and red Aldo purse draped over her shoulder. Her blond hair hung down her back in a loose ponytail. She wore the same black running shoes my mom did at the hospital. She must’ve come directly from work.
It felt like the three of us were in an Old West standoff, silently assessing one another as the sounds of normal bank business drifted across the tile floor.
I scanned the tellers behind us. There were no visible security guards and no one was paying any attention to our little moment in the corner.
Katie’s eyes cut to Tharpe.
I said quickly, “He’s not here in an official capacity.”
Tharpe let out a cough and muttered, “That’s an understatement.”
Katie ignored him, turned to me, and said, “Hello, Mitchum. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Who did you expect to see?”
She gave Tharpe a nasty glance and said, “I don’t know. But he doesn’t surprise me at all.”
I could’ve explained my involvement to her, but right now I needed this to go quickly. Besides, she didn’t deserve to know exactly what was going on.
“Do you have the code?” I asked, hoping she was some kind of a pawn.
She nodded and said, “Do you still intend to split it evenly?”
Tharpe mumbled, “Not as evenly as any previous agreement.”
I cut in. “We’ll work it out. The only thing I want is for Natty to be released.” I just needed Tharpe’s statement. After that, these two could negotiate.
Katie considered this. When she nodded, I realized there was no way she’d been more than just a pawn. That didn’t just break my heart, it pissed me off.
The three of us walked down the long hallway, past the armed security guard, and met an attendant who led us down another long hallway to the room that held box number 68. The building was designed like a maze, and I stood in the center of it with a guy I hated and a woman who had tricked my whole family. Great. Just another Wednesday in upstate New York.
The attendant, a thin man in his forties with a Boston accent, said, “Who has the code?”
Katie stepped up and faced the keypad on the side of the closed door. She pulled a small piece of paper from her purse and punched in the five-digit code.
The tumblers in the door turned and it popped open.
The attendant looked at me as if I was in charge and said, “Number 68 is on the top row in the corner. There’s a table and two chairs. Would you like me to find another chair?”
I shook my head.
He smiled and said, “I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything at all.”
The three of us entered the room slowly. It was the size of a bedroom. Maybe ten by twelve feet. Up against three of the walls there were boxes of different sizes. Everything was gray. The boxes in the wall, the door. Even the ceiling was a lighter shade of gray. There was no natural light, just a sleek tract of soft LED lights. Ten minutes in here would drive anyone crazy.
I pulled out both keys from my front pocket. Before I inserted them into the round locks on the box, I looked at Tharpe and said, “Let’s get your video statement first.”
He hesitated, so I let my hand slip inside my pocket where he thought I was holding a gun. He nodded and sat down in one of the two chairs at the table in the center of the room.
I quickly recorded his statement, and when I looked up, Katie was at the far end of the room, holding a gun on both of us.
CHAPTER 30
IT WAS HARD to take my eyes off the gun in Katie Stahl’s hand. She clearly had no regard for the gun laws of New York. There was a little tremor in the barrel, but overall she seemed calm and confident. Always bad news for the person facing the gun.
The sea of gray and soft lighting wasn’t helpful at all. I felt like I was stuck in a cavern, surrounded by a building.
She looked at me and said, “I’m not enjoying this.”
I said, “If it makes you feel any better, neither am I.” I tried to read Katie’s next move. I’d wait for my chance.
I turned my attention to the box. Mike Tharpe stood to my right and I knew a guy like him had to be calculating the odds of escape. He’d already lost his old life. He’d never be a cop again. Now it looked like he was losing his new life as well. I didn’t want him to do anything desperate.
I slowly turned both keys in the lock at the same time. Once they turned all the way to the left, the door unlatched and I pulled it open. I reached inside and pulled out a safety-deposit box that was about the size of a recycling bin. With the lid closed it looked like a big, gray building block.
I plopped it down onto the table. Tharpe was eyeing it like a wolf stalking a sheep. I stepped back to the wall and said to Katie, “You open it.” I thought I might trick her into a mistake. Maybe tie up her hands for a second. But I had no such luck.
The River Murders Page 13
