A Bleak Prospect

by Wayne Zurl

  Tolbert jumped in with both feet. “Ryan, shut up. Stay on topic.”

  Leary nodded slowly. The liquor had tired him out and probably depressed him enough to make him realize how drastically he had ruined his life.

  “Yeah, yer right, J.R. No sense talkin’ about my entire life now. Anyways, I would always have a job as long as Cal was DA. And, think about it. As long as he wanted to run, he’d get elected. But I wanted the job of chief deputy.” He laughed silently. “Who do you think runs that department?”

  “Not much doubt about that,” I said.

  “Joe D is no cop. Man worked for his daddy before he got elected. Hell, if ol’ Delbert Hartung didn’t have so much pull, Joe D’d still be workin’ for daddy. The man doesn’t know the difference between po-leece work and a mule’s ass”

  I smiled. “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Cal trusted me like nobody else. We shared too much. Finally, he decided he could control all law enforcement in the county if I was chief deputy and his inside man.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “All law enforcement?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Not you. It’s no secret Cal thinks you’re a royal pain in his ass.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t know he cared.”

  Leary shrugged. “So that’s it. Cal had his thing. I had mine. It’s not like those prostitutes were good solid citizens.”

  Tolbert drained his second glass of Scotch. “I think you’ve said enough, Ryan.”

  But I wasn’t prepared to leave it alone.

  “The ladies present might object to me asking for more specific details,” I said, “but you’ve hung all the involvement with the killings on Cal Pitts. What makes you think he won’t turn on you and say everything was your idea? That he was the follower. The evidence we have or soon collect will put you both at the scenes, but it isn’t specific as to which of you did exactly what. You have the more assertive personality, and someone might believe you did more than just contact the prostitutes and clean up the mess. Should we believe you just stood around watching?”

  Leary looked at Tolbert, then quickly at Heidi. “The deal is still in place, right? I mean it’s etched in stone, right?”

  “Are you going to change your story drastically?” Heidi asked.

  “Stop, Ryan,” Tolbert said. “Tell me what you might say.”

  “Sure,” Leary said and then looked at Heidi and scanned his eyes over the rest of us. “Give us a minute, will ya?”

  Five of us stepped to the other side of the room while Leary whispered into Tolbert’s ear. A few moments later, Tolbert stood upright.

  “We’re not talking about anything more than a few additional misdemeanors here. I assume they can be overlooked,” Tolbert said.

  Heidi said, “Misdemeanors, yes.”

  Leary sighed, not out of relief from this new agreement, but because he was tired and half-drunk. “I didn’t just stand around. Of course not. I did the girls first. Not the guys, just the girls. Cal was the switch hitter. And he liked to watch. Liked me to watch him, too. The rest you know.”

  “Okay,” I said, “but back to my earlier question. What happens if we get into a he said, he said pissing contest? Why won’t Pitts tell a jury you’re full of shit?”

  Leary sat forward and puffed up his chest. “‘Cause I got me some insurance.”

  Tolbert snapped, “Ryan, for God’s sake, shut up.”

  “No, J.R. What does it matter if it comes out now or you drop it on them if Calvin tries to lie his way outta this? Let’s get it in the open. I’ll do the fifteen years, but I want to sleep easy between now and when this is all over.”

  Tolbert shook his head resignedly. “It’s your life, Ryan.”

  At first Leary said nothing. The silence in the room was deafening.

  “Ryan?” I said.

  “Evidence, man, evidence. I used my cell phone to video what Cal did.”

  “Oh, my God,” Heidi said. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Leary shrugged. “You never put all your cards on the table. I wanted to hold back a few as double insurance.”

  “Where’s the phone,” I asked.

  “My house.”

  “It’s not the ‘Andy’ phone?”

  “No, my regular iPhone.”

  “I assume we have your permission to retrieve it?”

  He nodded.

  “Mr. Tolbert, will you or Ryan contact Mrs. Leary and tell her what’s happened, or shall we?”

  “We’ll use your phone.”

  “Good. And he’ll sign permission for us to search the house for the iPhone?”

  Tolbert and Leary buzzed in each other’s ears for a long moment. I assumed discussing the possibility of finding other damning evidence while retrieving the phone.

  “Yes. No search will be necessary. He’ll instruct you where to find the phone in plain view.”

  I nodded.

  “Ralph, you and Bonnie get over to the Leary house,” Carl said. “Be there when Mrs. Leary gets home and take custody of that phone.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The two agents who brought the video equipment took Leary to Knoxville to process his arrest and lodge him before arraignment.

  Ralph and Bonnie drove to the Leary homestead to take custody of the cell phone that Heidi Piper thought was worth its weight in gold.

  J.R. Tolbert thanked me for the Scotch and took his briefcase and assistant back to their Knoxville office.

  That left Heidi, Carl and me standing in the squad room.

  “This will not be a simple case to write up,” Heidi said. “And look at the time. I’ll have to break my ass to get things ready to present my warrant applications in the morning.”

  “Can you hold Leary incommunicado until you’ve got the warrants for Pitts and his house in your hand?” I asked. “The less said, the less chance our DA will hear about his fate before some cop knocks on his door.”

  “I hope to God no one leaks this story to the press or anyone,” she said.

  “You don’t have to worry about Oliveri or Rowatt,” Carl said. “You see any problems on your end, Sam?”

  “I’ve spoken to Stan Rose and Terri Donnellson. They’re no problem. You could threaten to cut out John Gallagher’s tongue, and he wouldn’t say a word. Ted Hanshe, the auxiliary cop with the van, is a good man. I told him to keep this quiet, but I’ll touch base with him again and insure he understands the importance of Mum’s the Word.”

  “Good,” Carl said. “And, Heidi, you think you’ll be prepared for us to execute the warrants tomorrow?”

  “I’ll work through the night,” she said. “Judge Coker gets in early. I’ll be knocking on his door at 9 a.m.”

  I shrugged. “But let’s plan for the worst. We need to track Pitts from now until he’s in cuffs. We can’t let him do a runner.”

  “I agree,” Carl said. “But we need a couple of really good pavement artists to keep him under surveillance.”

  “You get the personnel. I’ll approve any and all overtime necessary,” Heidi said.

  “I’ve got a former member of the JTTF in Manhattan with us,” Carl said. “He spent five years following suspected terrorists all over the Metro New York area. He’s the best I’ve got.”

  “Stan Rose was with LAPD’s Metro Squad for a couple years,” I said, so Carl wouldn’t think I needed him to provide all the key personnel. “He’s a crackerjack on surveillance. That can be our A team. Two more people as backup should be enough for the likes of Calvin Pitts.”

  “Okay, two men each. Done,” Carl said. “My second man is new to Knoxville, but he’s good. I’ll have to requisition suitable unmarked vehicles. Pitts would recognize our standard cars.”

  “No problem,” I said. “We can use my people’s cars. I’ll hand out portable radios and credit cards for gas. Stanley will use his Cadillac. John Gallagher is good at this, and no one would make him as an undercover cop in his rattletrap Saturn.”

  “Sounds good
,” Heidi said. “And you two will make this happen?”

  I nodded. “I’ll tell Stan now. John is at his desk. They can meet up with Carl’s guys at the task force office. Pitts lives in Maryville. They can follow him home from the Justice Center.”

  “It’ll take my men a little while to get there from Knoxville. Can you pick up the first contact?” Carl asked.

  “I’ll send John now. Stan can meet your agents in the task force room. Our radios are on a closed net, so the county dispatcher won’t be involved unless our guys switch channels.”

  “Good,” Carl said. “Let’s do it.”

  It would take someone with a sixth sense to recognize middle-aged John Gallagher, sitting in his faded electric blue Saturn as an undercover cop. I established that Calvin Pitts was still in his office when I sent John to tail him. Stanley went back home to get into civilian clothes and pick up his white Caddy.

  At a few minutes after four o’clock, I felt like hiding in my office, putting my feet up and having a relaxing and satisfying drink. But thanks to Ryan Leary and his thirsty lawyer, my bottle of Glenfiddich was down to nothing but fumes. And I owed it to Ronnie Shields to let him know what I had accomplished.

  I trudged through the marble halls of the municipal building, up the majestic staircase and swung open one of the great plate glass doors to the mayor’s anteroom to find Trudy Connor, as usual, mashing the keys of her computer.

  She stopped typing and looked at me over the tops of her tinted glasses. I smiled and waited.

  “Hello, Mr. Jenkins. You doin’ aw right today?”

  “Trudy, I’m as good as an old policeman could be after cracking the case of the decade.”

  She smiled and placed her glasses on her desk. “Well, they,” she said in typical Tennessee fashion. And I wondered, as I have for years, who they were.

  “And I’d like to tell Ronald McDonald all about it.”

  Her smile turned to a serious frown, a face not unlike something I saw from any one of my grammar school teachers. “Mr. Jenkins, I’ve asked you not to call the mayor that.”

  I dipped my head and tried to appear contrite. “My apologies, madam. Is the maharaja available?”

  She took a breath and forcefully expelled it in frustration. “Oh, Lord have mercy. I’ll have to call Bettye Lambert and see if she can do anything with you.”

  Trudy picked up her phone, and my grin got a little wider.

  “The mayor is free. Y’all can go in now,” she said, with no small amount of exasperation.

  I found Ronnie behind his desk looking as cool as shaved ice in his gray pinstripe suit. A yellow lined pad lay in front of him, but I knew, from my psychic abilities and what I found while snooping in his desk once, that he had probably just ditched the crossword book he keeps in the top draw.

  “Hello, Sam. You doin’ aw right t’day?”

  “Better than usual and twice as proud.”

  “Proud o’ what?”

  “With a little help from the FBI, we’ve cleared the Riverside Strangler murders. One subject is in custody and one shall soon fall.”

  “Lord have mercy. When did this happen?”

  “We’ve been busy most of the day. Our one defendant just started the trip to a judge and arraignment. We’ll put the arm on the second as soon as our U.S. Attorney obtains a warrant.”

  “Outstandin’, Sam. And you arrested him personally?”

  “Technically, the FBI arrested him, but I was there to steer them in the right direction and slap the cuffs on.”

  “Uh, who was this subject?”

  “Sorry to say, the first one arrested was the sheriff’s chief deputy, Ryan Leary.”

  Ronnie’s face dropped faster than a barometer before a hurricane.

  “Ryan Leary? Lord have mercy. And you’re responsible for his arrest?”

  “Yes, but as I said, with FBI help. As you know, they took over the task force the other day, and I gave them the information I developed.”

  Ronnie closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. He did not look as appropriately pleased as I expected. “Oh, Sam, this is a bad day for Blount County. Ryan Leary is a very important man.”

  That one annoyed the hell out of me. “Was important. There are two ways to look at it, Ronnie. Bad because the county’s top sworn officer was involved in eight murders, but then again, he’d already been arrested for beating and torturing a nineteen-year-old shithead in an incident littered with scandal. But pretty damn good because Leary and his partner won’t be killing off any more citizens.”

  “Yes. Right.” He still didn’t look overjoyed. “Who’s the other one you’re gonna arrest?”

  For some reason, I was reluctant to tell my less than enthusiastic mayor the complete story. “Uh, Leary is playing it cool and close to the vest. He told the AUSA in charge that he’d reveal his accomplice in front of the judge after he got his guaranteed deal on the record. His attorney liked that idea.”

  “Oh. Think it’s anyone we would know?”

  I ignored his question. “You don’t seem glad to hear that the Riverside Strangler won’t be whittling down the population of young hookers any longer.”

  “Oh, uh, well, o’ course I am. It’s that, uh, I hate to see a local, uh…public servant arrested fer such a thing. Gives us in Blount County a black eye, so ta speak.”

  “Yeah, so to speak. Guys like Leary give all cops everywhere a black eye.”

  “When will ya know who the other man is? It is a man, ain’t it?”

  “Be my guess. But I’ll only know when I get a phone call from Ms. Piper.”

  “She’s the U.S. Attorney ya spoke of?”

  “She is.”

  “Well good. Yessir, real fine. Keep me informed so I can tell the council all about this.”

  I sort of expected a hero’s reception but had to take what the mayor offered. “Okay, boss, but I must impress upon you the importance of keeping this operation under wraps until the second subject is in custody. That means I won’t be putting out a press release until the Justice Department gives me an okay. We can’t even discuss this with other cops or family or anyone.”

  Ronnie nodded. “O’ course, Sam. I won’t be puttin’ out anything less you say we’re ready.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”

  I really hoped he could keep his mouth shut. Or would he attempt to pay forward a political favor and spill the beans to one of his friendly hacks?

  It was almost time to close up shop for the night when I took off to find Ted Hanshe.

  He lived in a large and fairly new redbrick home on Old Niles Ferry Road on the south end of Maryville. I pulled my Ford into the driveway and parked in front of the attached garage. To my right, a separate four bay garage sat on the property line and housed, I assumed, his plumber’s vehicles and equipment. I knocked on the door, and he answered, wearing the same work uniform I had seen on him before; but now he was in stocking feet.

  “Hey, Chief, how’s it goin’? A little excitement today, huh?”

  “Yeah, Teddy. I think we did a good one today.”

  “Come in, come on in. Don’t stand outside.”

  I entered a neat home furnished in contemporary Early American-style furniture

  “Sit down.” He pointed to a sofa covered in a print fabric against a long wall in the living room. “Sit down. My wife’s makin’ dinner. Ya wanna eat?”

  I smiled but shook my head. “No thanks. I just need to talk about today if you’ve got a minute.”

  “Yeah, sure, anything. Ya want a beer?”

  “Are you having one?”

  “Hey, you kiddin’? It doesn’t take much ta talk me inta havin’ a beer. Be right back.”

  Two minutes later, he walked back into the living room, carrying a tray with two bottles of Sam Adams lager and two glasses, with his wife on his heels.

  “Chief, I want ya ta meet my wife, Margaret, but everybody calls her Maggie. Babe, this is Chief Jenkins. He’s from New York.
”

  I stood and shook the hand she offered. “Hi, call me Sam. Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” She smiled. “Excuse me. I’ve got to keep an eye on dinner. Sure you won’t stay and have something?”

  “No thanks. My wife’s got dinner waiting for me. I won’t keep Teddy long.”

  She waved that away. “Take your time. Drink your beer. No hurry.”

  When she left, we sat, me on the sofa and Ted across from me in a recliner.

  I poured the twelve-ounce beer into a pint glass. “Thanks for your help today, Teddy. I’m sure Stanley explained what was going down.”

  “Yeah, somethin’ else, isn’t it?” Ted took a drink from the bottle.

  “That’s why I’m here, Teddy. We’re going to be making another arrest of a prominent person—with luck tomorrow or soon after.”

  “Ya need my van again?”

  After a sip of beer, I answered. “No thanks. I think the FBI will have that covered by a small army of agents this time. I just need to make sure that you get the message that everything that happened today has to remain totally confidential. I mean totally. There’s a good chance that if word leaks out the next subject may take off on us.”

  “Hey, Chief, don’t worry about me. I won’t say nothin’ ta nobody. I understand what ya need. When I was a kid, my old man used ta say that World War Two thing to us—Loose lips sink ships. No problem, I’m tight.”

  I took a long drink of beer and understood why someone, I can’t remember who, called Sam Adams the best bottled beer in America. “Thanks, Teddy, and just so you remember, I appreciate what you did for us today…and all the time you spend working as an auxiliary.”

  I took another long pull on my beer, emptying more than half the glass. Sam Adams is good beer.

  “No sweat, Chief. I get a kick outta directin’ traffic.”

  I smiled. “Now, will you do me a favor?”

  “Sure, name it.”

  “Call me Sam. Only the bad guys are more formal.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Sure thing, Sam. You got it.”

  I knocked down almost all the rest of my beer and placed the glass back on the tray sitting on the coffee table.