The Cleanest Kill

by Rick Reed

  Reina Day called Mrs. Day’s phone several times, but the calls lasted only seconds. Reina’s cell phone had placed a couple of calls to Channel 6 the same day as Dick’s visit. After that there were several calls to and from Claudine Setera’s personal cell phone.

  “Reina called Channel Six a few hours after Dick’s visit to Mrs. Day. There are so many calls from Claudine to various locations I’ll have to work on that more. Unless you want me to concentrate on finding Dennis James?”

  “Find Dennis James,” Jack said.

  “Okay, boss,” she said and threw him a little salute.

  “And see if Dick or Needham made any large withdrawals or transfers of money from their accounts recently,” Jack added. “Specifically deposits to or any transfers or withdrawals using Old National Bank.”

  “I was getting to that,” Angelina said. “Both of them have a flurry of financial activity. A week before the deposit in Dennis James’s account, Dick transferred twenty-five thousand from his quite substantial savings to an investment company in Minnesota. Monarch Investments. The same week Carl Needham transferred thirty thousand of his personal savings into his private business account and from there it went to Monarch Investments in Minnesota. Financial companies have to register with the state where they are located in order to do business. Articles of incorporation need to be filed naming the officers, etc. Double Dick and Carl Needham are listed as CEO and CFO respectively. There is a silent partner listed: Dennis James. Dennis has no say-so or duties, he just collects part of the earnings.”

  “You’re telling me Dick and Needham have an investment company in Minnesota?” Jack asked.

  “It’s not actually in Minnesota. That’s where the business is licensed, but the infusion of funds is coming from Ohio and Indiana, like I said. Twenty thousand dollars was disbursed two days ago to Dennis James’s bank account. I’m a genius,” Angelina said.

  Walker jokingly said, “Angelina, I thought you’d have this all solved by now. Who killed JFK?”

  Angelina locked eyes with Walker. “Should I remind you I can ruin your credit rating?”

  Tony looked away first. Smart man.

  “Have you found anything else on Double Dick?” Jack asked. “Besides the Minnesota connection.”

  “He’s divorced. His ex-wife is remarried to an Alaskan state trooper. His son died at the age of three. He lives a pretty frugal existence,” she said. “He has a hefty savings and is making a good return on his 401K investments. For a dick, he’s got a lot of money.”

  Jack didn’t smile at her play on words. In fact, he felt an inch tall. He had shoveled insults on Double Dick for—well, since he’d known him. He’d never once imagined the man might have cause to be such a ruthless bastard. He thought, There but for the grace of God go I. When Jack became divorced he’d been able to throw himself into his job. Double Dick had thrown his authority and abuse at the people working for him. Dick was truly a sad case, but Jack still wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire.

  “Now, his father, Thomas Harrison Dick, is a different matter,” Angelina said and put a hand over her mouth, not quite covering a smirk. “I still can’t say his name with a straight face. You know. Tom, Dick, and Harry. Never mind.”

  “The family must have a humorous way of coming up with names,” Liddell said.

  “A Dick by any other name…” Walker added.

  “Don’t encourage them, Tony,” Jack said.

  “Maybe we should start calling her Littlefoot,” Walker suggested. “They make a good pair of cutups.”

  Angelina expressed her opinion by punching several laptop keys. “Your credit rating is fifty. You have three federal warrants outstanding for your arrest. And if you don’t stop, I’ll put the Child Sex Crime Unit onto you.”

  “Jesus, Angelina! You didn’t?” Walker said, making his way over to see what she was doing on the computer.

  “Nah. I just sent a message to my husband telling him I was going to kill you, so come bail me out.”

  “Message received,” Walker said.

  “Also…” Angelina drew the word out. “There were three calls to Captain Dick’s home, two from Needham’s cell, and a third from the Ohio Senate Building. All this morning. The calls were short and may have gone to an answering machine. I couldn’t find any corresponding calls from Captain Dick’s phone to anyone we’ve identified.”

  She paused to let Jack chew on that.

  “And right after you left Olson’s house this morning, he called a cell phone number that’s not registered.”

  Jack asked, “A pay-as-you-go phone?” Angelina agreed.

  “Can you find out where the burner was when the call was received?” Jack asked.

  “Working on it, but burners are nearly impossible to trace.”

  “But not impossible?” Jack asked.

  “I’ve got friends with NSA that might be able to, but I hesitate to use them unless this is national security. Even I can only go so far.”

  It wasn’t a matter of national security, but it was a serious concern for the Evansville Police Department. If Double Dick became king he’d rule with an iron fist and a whip.

  Angelina mistook Jack’s silence as his consideration of going ahead with the search. “So, do I contact NSA?”

  “No,” Jack said. “At least, not yet.” He smiled to let her know he was joking.

  Jake Brady came from the kitchen and motioned for Jack. “Phone call.”

  Jack excused himself and answered the portable phone on the counter of the bar. He listened briefly, disconnected, and went back to the war room and said, “Reina checked herself out of the hospital and ran the security detail off.”

  * * * *

  Liddell sped down Riverside Drive to a neighborhood Jack was intimately familiar with. While Jack and Katie were divorced he started dating the Chief Parole Officer in Evansville, Susan Summers. Susan owned an historic home on Sunset Drive that she had converted into a bed-and-breakfast. The B and B was a hit with visitors who wanted the true Evansville experience while in town for various events and it was close enough to walk to the Blue Star Casino riverboat or the new Ford Center stadium. Reina Day owned another of the historic homes, this one a three-story with an elevator at the west end of the park, eleven houses west of Susan’s B and B.

  As Liddell turned down Sunset Drive he saw a police car sitting on the wrong side of the street facing west. He slowed and pulled up beside the car. The officer rolled the window down.

  “You here to talk to the queen?” the officer asked them.

  “Why are you here?” Jack asked. “The woman you’re protecting lives at the end of the block.”

  “Orders,” the officer said. “She’s refused protection. You here to relieve me?”

  “We’ve come to visit the lady of the house,” Liddell said and drove on. He parked in the driveway of the huge house at the dead end of the street. Sunset Drive was about two uninterrupted city blocks with houses on the north side of the street facing south. Each of the houses were built in the late 1800s or early 1900s by the wealthy and each had once been blessed with a picturesque view of the Ohio River. Progress had taken care of that blessing. So instead of watching the riverboat traffic move along Riverside Drive, the property owners opted to create a tree-lined private park. Now the park was open to the public and kids ran and screamed and slid down slides and threw up by the merry-go-rounds. Progress.

  Liddell let out a whistle. “According to Angelina, she owns this outright. No mortgage. No husband. No children. I’d need a map with you are here on it to find my way to the bathroom.”

  “Let’s go see why she’s being so difficult,” Jack said.

  They went to the front door and rang the bell. The door was yanked open by a man with an angry expression and wearing only a Speedo. Speedos had gone out of style a millennium ago, but this guy was
wearing a florescent yellow one with a bulging happy face on it that emphasized his scowl, among other things.

  “She doesn’t want to see you,” the man said.

  “I understand,” Jack said. “But this is police business.” Jack showed his badge and when that didn’t get the desired cooperation, he pulled his jacket back, revealing his .45 Glock. “May we come inside?” Jack said and brushed past the man.

  “Hey, you can’t do that. I’m a law student.”

  “Do you know Murphy’s Law?” Jack asked.

  The man just stared at him.

  Jack said, “Murphy’s Law says: ‘Don’t screw with the man with a gun.’”

  The man was about to protest when Jack heard a voice coming from the next room.

  “It’s okay, Aldo. I know them. You can go back to the tanning bed.” Reina Day stepped into the large foyer and said, “And for God’s sake, put some clothes on.”

  “You’ll catch your death,” Liddell said and mouthed to Jack, “Aldo.”

  “I was just getting dressed and I saw these two coming to the door, Reina. Sorry.” He hurried away.

  Reina said, “Aldo means well. He heard what happened and he’s trying to protect me. He has a little crush.”

  “He appears… excited,” Jack said and she tried not to smile.

  “If you’re here to give me a safety speech you can save your breath,” she said.

  “I’ve got plenty of breath, Reina,” Jack said. “To be honest, I’m a little pissed at you.”

  Red began to creep up her neck, but before she could say anything Jack said, “I promised your mother that I would protect you and find the truth.”

  She shot back, “And see how well that turned out.”

  “You’re going to make me regret getting involved, Reina. We’re on your side. That doesn’t make us very popular with the politicians. This is the type of case that ends careers even if they’re solved. So instead of being a problem, why don’t you use some of that brain and work with us?”

  She was quiet for so long Jack thought she was working up a head of steam. Instead she said in a quiet voice, “Aldo is a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. I don’t need extra protection. I’ll be fine here. And I have patients. I’m going to work in forty-five minutes to prepare for a surgery and I don’t need a policeman following me around making my patients nervous.”

  “I appreciate your work ethic,” Jack said. “I take my work serious too. I’ll make you a deal.”

  She crossed her arms.

  “I want to keep an officer inside here. At least when you’re home. And one to follow you to work. They will be invisible, I promise. I can even have the inside cop wear a Speedo to blend in.”

  She smiled and said, “I’m supposed to trust you now. After everything that happened. I think I’ll turn down your deal and make you one.”

  Jack waited.

  “You spend your time finding the bastard that killed my mother. I’m a surgeon. It takes my entire focus to perform safely. You’re trying to work several things at one time and from experience, I know you’ll miss something important. I don’t want you or your department to worry about the media fallout. I can’t help what they will do, but I will promise not to talk to the news again if you promise to stay out of my way.”

  “Okay. Deal,” Jack lied. She couldn’t stop them from posting a security guard to watch the park across the street, or one driving on city streets to Deaconess Hospital.

  “I mean it. I’ve called the mayor and I will sue the city for violation of my civil right to privacy. If a car follows me, I will file harassment charges and that will add to my lawsuit. I can get a protective order if necessary. Please leave my house and do your job. The best thing you can do for me is to find the bastard that’s killing my family.”

  She opened the front door and showed them out.

  Once outside, Liddell said, “That went well.”

  Jack got on the phone. “Captain. She’s refusing any and all protection?” He listened. “We came when we heard she was home from the hospital. Are you saying we can’t go near her again?” He listened and ended the call. He turned to Liddell and said, “Before we got here, she’d threatened the Chief that she would get a restraining order. We can’t even talk to her now.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Liddell said as they got back in their car.

  “Unless she doesn’t want us to know what she’s doing,” Jack said. “Maybe she thinks she and Mr. Speedo can take this guy on by themselves.”

  Liddell said, “He was scary. I’ll have nightmares tonight.”

  They made a U-turn and drove past the park. The sky was clear, the temperature had risen. In the park, two boys were being pummeled by a good-sized girl and trying to cover their faces to dodge the punches. She was screaming something that sounded like “I told you—”

  “That’s us, Bigfoot. Reina just kicked our asses,” Jack said.

  “Should we break the fight up?”

  “Nah,” Jack said. “She’s just slapping them. To the victor go the spoils.”

  “It’s a different world we live in, pod’na.”

  Jack called Sergeant Elkins and there was no progress on Mrs. Day’s murder. Elkins wanted to meet them and Jack told him to bring his file to Two Jakes early tomorrow morning.

  He called Angelina. She was still sifting through telephone records, IRS records, financials, gun registrations, and police records. The list of people with some involvement in all four cases had grown to over forty law enforcement, legal, and civilian persons. Jack didn’t envy her the task.

  “Angelina, find a stopping point and go home to Mark,” Jack said. “Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I’ll see you after. Sorry, that’s Sunday. Come in Monday.”

  “I can come in tomorrow, Jack. Mark will understand. He can make a Hungry-Man turkey dinner. I don’t cook anyway. All he ever wants are steaks, hamburgers, or meat loaf. What is it with you guys?”

  “You’ll be here by yourself if you come in tomorrow,” Jack said, although he planned to meet with Elkins. “Go to Buy Low and buy a Thanksgiving dinner. Mashed potatoes, dressing, cranberry stuff. He’ll think you cooked all day.”

  “I’ll have to do the airplane thingy with the fork to put that stuff in his mouth,” she said and laughed.

  “Get some rest. I’ll need you sharp on Monday. We’re going to find Dennis James and squeeze him for all he’s worth.” He ended the call.

  “Does this mean I get to stay home Thanksgiving Day?” Liddell asked.

  “Yes. You can eat a whole herd of turkeys, Bigfoot. I’m just going to meet Elkins for an hour to discuss what we can do.”

  “Did you know that a group of domesticated turkeys is called a rafter?” Liddell asked, surprising Jack with his useless knowledge.

  “Then go eat a rafter,” Jack said. “Hell, eat the whole roof.”

  Liddell chuckled. “What are you and your new fiancé going to be doing? I mean, after you meet with the sergeant?”

  “What do you think? How about you?”

  “I think I’m going to be explaining to Marcie why I’m going to get fired by the new mayor.”

  Jack agreed. They had a lot of circumstantial evidence, conflicting statements, missing evidence, and political pressure up the wazoo. They weren’t exactly swimming in leads and if they interviewed Dick or Needham just before or on Thanksgiving, it would be used against them. Cops were portrayed as heartless and intrusive anyway. But the day after Thanksgiving was fair game.

  He decided to take his own advice. Go home. Enjoy the day he truly could give thanks for. He’d been engaged for twenty-four hours and had spent most of that time at work. What a great start.

  Chapter 33

  The ringing came from far away. It was persistent and annoying. It stopped only to start again. Jack woke and remembered he’d left his
cell phone downstairs in the kitchen. It was just after midnight per the bedside alarm clock. Happy Thanksgiving, Jack.

  He disentangled his legs from Katie’s and she rolled onto her side, still sleeping soundly. Jack got out of bed and quietly went down the steps to find the intruding sound. The ringing was coming from the couch where Cinderella lay sprawled out like the Queen of Sheba. Cinderella bared her teeth as he reached behind her and found the phone stuffed down in the cushion. The caller ID didn’t display a number he was familiar with.

  He answered anyway. “Who the hell is this?”

  The voice was male. It was older and slurred. Drunk. “You need to get over here. I got something for you, Murphy.”

  The cobwebs were clearing from Jack’s mind. “Olson?”

  “You said call if I ’membered anything. I ’membered plen’y. I’m not waiting.”

  “Call me at a decent hour. Preferably when you’re sober. I’m hanging up now.”

  “No. You gotta come now…” his voice trailed off and he mumbled some things. Jack caught the last word: Sugar.

  Drunk and crazy and talking out of his ass. “I’ll come tomorrow—sugar,” Jack said, but the line was dead.

  He debated going back to his warm bed and warmer bed partner. Curiosity got the better of him. Olson was paranoid and lonely and wanted to feel important again, so he’d fixated on Jack because he had taken the time to talk to him. He didn’t want to encourage Olson to bend his ear every time he wanted company. He didn’t like the man. But what if he really had something to tell him?

  Jack muttered a profanity and padded back up the stairs to get dressed.

  * * * *

  Jack dressed as quietly as possible and as he passed by the room that would soon be occupied by a little Murphy, his heart swelled. He was going to be a father. It scared him shitless. The thought of going through all that again.