The Cleanest Kill

by Rick Reed

  Elkins said with a straight face, “Life sucks and then you die, Jack.”

  “I’m ever-hopeful we will prevail,” Liddell said. “Good always triumphs over evil.”

  “Not always,” Elkins said. “Imagine Chief of Police Double Dick. I think you got that backward, Liddell.”

  Jack continued. “Double Dick approached Mrs. Day two days ago and wanted to meet. Mrs. Day said Dick had never contacted her before. They already thought Dick was involved in Max’s death and wanted to get some leverage to make the police do a better investigation. Dick came to the house and Reina secretly recorded the conversation. Reina sent a copy of the audio to Benet Cato and they gave a copy to Claudine Setera.”

  “No shit?” Elkins said with a smile. “Good for her.”

  “Evidently it wasn’t such a good move,” Jack pointed out. “Reina’s in the hospital and now Mrs. Day is dead.”

  “Someone is cleaning house. You think it’s Double Dick?” Elkins asked.

  “There were others involved in the fight with Max. We have a couple of people we need to check on,” Jack said.

  “I can get you two deputized,” Elkins suggested.

  “Bite me,” Jack said.

  “Me too,” Liddell said.

  “We might go to the morgue,” Jack said. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Whatever floats your boat,” Elkins said. “Should I not put that in my report?”

  “We were never here,” Jack said and they got back in their car.

  “Morgue?” Liddell asked.

  “I’ll call them first,” Jack said and called the coroner’s office.

  “All our rooms are taken,” Lilly Caskins answered.

  “Lilly, you’re in awfully early,” Jack said.

  “What. You think I’m so old I need my beauty sleep?”

  “I apologize for whatever you think I might have said improper, Miss Caskins,” Jack said. “I just wanted to know if you’ve scheduled the postmortem on Amelia Day.”

  “What do you think? You got the boy wonder, Elkins, with you. Ask him. He seems to know everything.”

  Jack muted the call and said, “Holy cow, boy wonder, she got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

  “I heard that, dummy,” Lilly said.

  Jack checked the display screen. He’d hit the wrong button.

  “Will you call us when Dr. John is coming in for the autopsy? Please,” Jack said.

  “This one’s from the county so it’s not your case, but I’ll think about it,” she said and the connection was broken.

  “War room?” Liddell asked.

  Jack laid his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. “Sounds good.”

  “Didn’t you get any sleep?” Liddell asked him.

  “Mind your own business and watch the road,” Jack said testily.

  “You didn’t? You finally popped the question last night, didn’t you, pod’na?”

  Jack said nothing.

  “That’s why you’re so tired this morning. What did she say? Yes, I hope. Me and Marcie been betting when you’d finally come to your senses. You showed me that ring ten months ago or more.”

  Jack still said nothing and mimicked a loud snore.

  “Come on. Let me live vicariously through you.”

  “That’s a mighty big word for a little mind,” Jack answered.

  “Well, me and Marcie still have a very active sex life,” Liddell said. “Last night we—”

  “Will you quit! I don’t want to hear about your mating habits, Bigfoot. Yes. I, as you so delicately put it, popped the question. And Katie said yes. Why wouldn’t she? She’s getting a stud like me. That’s it. Now, let’s get back to work.”

  “Huh,” Liddell said, and was quiet until they turned onto Waterworks Road.

  “Think you can walk when we get there or should we stop and get crutches?” Liddell asked with a huge grin.

  “Smell that,” Jack said, changing the subject. “Smells like Vinnie’s cooking breakfast.”

  Liddell stepped on the gas. “I think better on a full stomach.”

  “So that’s where your brain went? You ate it,” Jack said.

  Chapter 20

  Liddell pulled in behind Two Jakes and parked next to Jack’s Crown Vic. Angelina’s light green Toyota RAV4 with smoked windows was there along with the black and showroom-shiny Ford 500 belonging to Captain Franklin.

  Jack and Liddell entered through the delivery door and could hear voices coming from the front dining area: Captain Franklin, Angelina Garcia, and Vinnie.

  “Eggs and bacon, please,” Liddell said as they stepped into the dining area of the restaurant. “Good morning, everyone.”

  Vinnie split off from the conversation and headed for the kitchen.

  Angelina Garcia was a petite Latina of twenty-four. Her long, dark hair had been bobbed into a beautiful frame for her smiling face. She had taken up running after getting married to Mark Crowley. Not jogging. Running. Jack had asked her why she decided to do that when there were perfectly good cars. He had likened it to jumping out of a perfectly good plane. Her response had been “Exactly.”

  Angelina had helped them with a recent case where a killer was targeting illegal immigrants. The death toll was over three hundred. She had started her career with the Evansville police as a part-time computer technician and ended up starting her own company and working part-time for ICE, Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

  Captain Franklin was sitting at the table. “Jack. Liddell,” he said with no emotion, giving Jack that “uh-oh” feeling.

  “What’s happenin,’ Cap’n?” Liddell said and took a seat.

  Captain Franklin said, “I hope you’re still in a good mood when I tell you what happened overnight.”

  Jack’s stomach fell a few inches. He feared the worst, that the killer had eliminated Reina’s guard along with Reina herself. But he had the wrong Day.

  “Mrs. Day was gunned down last night or early this morning,” Captain Franklin said. “She was found inside the doorway of her house. One shot to the head. Large-caliber. Another .50 . She was found this morning about five o’clock. Sergeant Elkins of the sheriff’s department called me about twenty minutes ago. I knew you’d all be here early and I wanted to keep this among us as long as possible.”

  Jack didn’t have to tell Captain Franklin there was little chance of that. It would undoubtedly lead the news this morning. But he did say, “We’ve already been out there, Captain.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Captain Franklin asked.

  “Sergeant Elkins is working that case and he called us. They collected a single .50 caliber shell casing at the scene. County’s crime scene is still there. They haven’t found the slug yet, but Elkins said there were tire marks on the grass by the driveway. He thinks the killer pulled up, Mrs. Day came to the door, and he shot her one time in the head. They might find the bullet if it’s still in the house.”

  “Given the circumstances, do you want to bring Sergeant Elkins into these investigations?” Captain Franklin asked.

  “Can you have Chief Pope talk to the sheriff?” Jack asked. “I know Elkins won’t talk to the media.”

  “I’ve already called the Chief and he’s waiting for me to call back to tell him I notified you two. I’ll let you get to work,” Captain Franklin said.

  “Elkins said Channel Six played the conversation on-air last night,” Jack said.

  “You didn’t hear it?” Liddell asked.

  “I was tied up last night and didn’t get to sleep until late,” Jack said.

  “He was tied up,” Liddell repeated. “Literally.”

  “Why don’t you stay for breakfast, Captain?” Jack asked.

  “Thanks,” the said, “but I’m sure you’ve got things to talk about that you don’t wan
t the brass to hear. Besides, I have to call the Chief and then I have meetings. Are you going to make the death notification to Reina?”

  Jack hadn’t asked Elkins that question. He’d assumed since the death was in the county that Elkins would make it. “I’ll call Elkins,” Jack said. Jack didn’t want to give Reina more bad news, but it might be better coming from him.

  The Captain left.

  Liddell said, “Angelina, why don’t we go see what you’ve got? We can eat in the war room, can’t we?”

  “Go ahead,” Jack said. “I’ll call Elkins and see what he wants to do about the notification.”

  Angelina and Liddell went to the kitchen and Jack called Sergeant Elkins.

  Chapter 21

  Sergeant Elkins met Jack at Deaconess Hospital to break the news to Reina Day. Elkins was talkative until they reached the door of her room. A policeman was down the hallway in a chair by the door.

  “You think he’s bored?” Elkins asked and chuckled.

  “With nothing to do but drink coffee and urinate all day. Yeah,” Jack said.

  “You can do the talking,” Elkins said. “I’ve done my share of these. I’d rather eat a turd than do another one.”

  Jack said, “You were eating one of those this morning.”

  “I was eating one of what?”

  “That black thing you had stuck in your mouth,” Jack said.

  “Are you calling my cigar a turd?”

  “Hey, if it smells like a turd and looks like a turd…”

  As they approached the room the officer came to his feet.

  Elkins stuck out a hand. “Elkins. Glad to meet you.”

  Jack said, “He’s a detective sergeant with the sheriff’s office. He’s with me.”

  “Sergeant Elkins,” the officer said and shook hands.

  “Has anyone been in there while you were on duty?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, sir, Detective Murphy. I’ve been here since eleven last night. The nurse was in there a bunch last night. Holy cow. I don’t know how anyone gets any rest in the hospital.”

  Elkins asked, “She woke you up, did she?”

  “Yes, sir, Sergeant. I mean, no, sir.”

  “Have you talked to the lady in that room?” Elkins asked.

  “Just to say hello and introduce myself,” the officer said. “She was nauseated some. I think they’re worried about the concussion. She’s feisty. She wanted to check herself out a couple of times and we had to call a doctor. It’s been quiet for a while.”

  Jack read the officer’s name tag. “Officer T. Bone,” Jack said. He felt for him. Policemen were like mean kids when it came to name-calling. T. Bone was just asking for it.

  “It’s Thomas Bone, sir. Shortened from Bonet. We came here from France originally and the T got left off the end of our name. No one bothered to change it back. Like Shakespeare said, ‘What’s in a name?’”

  Apparently a T-Bone, Jack thought. Even the Ellis Island cops were mean kids too.

  Elkins surprised Jack. “Thou art thyself though, not a Montague. What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face…”

  Officer Bone smiled. “That’s exactly right, Sergeant Elkins. I’m glad someone finally gets it. Do you know Shakespeare?”

  “Not personally,” Elkins said and the T. Bone laughed.

  “The nurse was in about half hour ago, so I think Reina—Miss Day I mean—is awake. Her TV was going all night, but I don’t hear it now.” Officer Bone knocked lightly, opened the door a crack, and said, “You have company.”

  Jack could hear the sound of soft sobbing. He and Elkins entered to find Reina sitting on the side of the bed with an emesis basin—a kidney-shaped dish—in her lap. She was pale and shaking. Elkins pushed the call button for the nurse and Jack held the basin for Reina.

  “The nurse is on the way. Do you—?” Jack said before a large nurse elbowed him aside.

  “She was like this when we—” Elkins managed to say before the nurse pointed toward the door. They left.

  Outside in the hall, Jack said, “Yesterday she seemed to be getting better.”

  Officer Bone spoke up. “Well, she might’ve been reacting to the news this morning. Like I said, the TV was on in her room and it’s on every channel. I saw it on the TV in the nurses’ station over there.” He pointed down the hall to a television facing out into the hallway.

  “What’s on every channel?” Jack asked.

  “About her mama getting killed last night,” Officer Bone said. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “Yeah,” Elkins said.

  Jack had found out an hour ago. How in the hell did Claudine get this? Maybe she was monitoring their radio. Maybe she had another source. Who?

  “Did you give this to the media?” Jack asked Elkins.

  “Them’s fightin’ words,” Elkins said and T. Bone laughed again.

  “Yeah,” Officer Bone said. “If I’d known, I would have unplugged her TV. You working on her mama’s murder, Sergeant Elkins?”

  Elkins’s complexion turned pale. “Excuse me,” he said and walked down the hall to a restroom.

  “You did nothing wrong, Officer Bone,” Jack said to the concerned officer. “Morning sickness.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean…huh?”

  “He’s got a very weak stomach. He gets sick every morning. He’s prone to emotional outbursts.”

  “I feel bad, sir. Is there something I can do?”

  “Nah,” Jack said. “He’ll be fine as soon as he pukes.”

  “I meant, is there anything I can do for that woman in there?”

  “Yeah. Don’t become a snitch for the news media.”

  “Got it,” Bone said. “I wouldn’t, sir.”

  It was several minutes before Elkins came back. He wasn’t pale anymore, but his shoulders slumped. The wind was no longer in his sails. He’d been at this all morning. Making a death notification was hard enough. The news media would usually wait to name a victim until the family was notified. Claudine was the exception.

  The nurse came out and despite her earlier wrecking-ball image she seemed reserved and Jack could see she’d been crying too.

  “I’m sorry, fellas,” she said. “That poor woman has been through hell. I gave her something the doctor ordered to calm her down, but she’s fighting it. You can go in, but she may conk out on you.”

  Elkins shrugged. “You go in. She doesn’t need us both in there and I think she’s more familiar with you.”

  T. Bone said to Elkins, “Can I get you a ginger ale, Sergeant Elkins?”

  Jack went in. “I’m sorry, Reina. I came to tell you.” He sat on the foot of her bed and she latched onto him, squeezing him like her life depended on it. He could feel her shake with sorrow.

  He put his arms around her and rocked her gently. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to finish this.” He could feel the impotence of his words. Finishing this thirty-years-plus stagnant case wouldn’t be easy and it wouldn’t bring back her mother, father, or brother. Justice was blind and dumb and deaf and just plain senseless at times. All that was left was revenge. The shit-meter’s needle had reached that point. He had reached the end of being nice.

  Reina sat back and said, “Do you promise? Promise me.” Her words came out frail and lost, but there was an underlying strength in her that refused to be beaten. “Promise me!”

  “I promise, Reina,” Jack said. “I promise. Now you have to promise me something.”

  She watched his face, her expression slipping between hope and impending disappointment.

  “Promise me you won’t give up. Believe in me. Okay?”

  Chapter 22

  Jack brought Sergeant Elkins in and left him talking to Reina. There were questions to be asked. It was the way it was. Jack felt her sorrow. It was a ha
rd thing to answer questions after the loss of a loved one. And it was a hard thing to be the one asking those questions when someone had lost their entire family.

  Jack drove to Two Jakes and made a mental list of things he needed to do. The list was a mile long. He gave up on it and drove on autopilot, thoughts of last night invading his ability to sort and categorize and prioritize the things that needed done. He was going to be a father again. He was going to be a husband. Again. He was still going to be a cop. He would still be on call twenty-four hours a day—weekends, holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and any other inopportune time someone acted out like a violent animal and he was needed to bring them to ground.

  Katie had married him once, knowing what their life would be like. She had not been okay with it, but she’d done the best she could to give him the freedom to do what needed to be done. She knew he was fighting for the right reasons. Helping people even when it cost him. She knew he could never walk away from a case. It was who he was. He was losing his soul, bit by bit. It was being eaten away by the evil he fought again and again.

  He was who he was. That was the problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t—or wouldn’t—change. What he thought was the right thing was so much a part of him that it was like breathing. He hoped he could still do the job and keep his marriage. He owed that to Katie. To little Jack. It was going to be a boy.

  He had this deep feeling that everything would be all right this time. He’d grown up. He’d faced most of his demons. Killed a few of them. When he found out Katie was pregnant last night he thought his heart would explode, but in a good way. This morning there were thoughts of repurposing the nursery from a sometimes guest room back into baby Jack’s room. The garage was big enough for a workshop. He’d build the furniture and new shelves for toys. He wasn’t a great carpenter, but he could learn. He’d take the time.

  Baby Jack. He couldn’t call the little fella that, but he wondered how Katie would feel about Jake. Name him after his grandfather. If it was a girl they could call her Jackie. He’d talk to Katie about it tonight.