Past Crimes (Alexis Parker Book 20)

by G. K. Parks

When I stepped out of Moretti’s office, Heathcliff looked up at me. “Now what did you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I don’t buy it.” He nodded down at my arm. The tussle on the train tracks had reopened the wound, and blood had soaked through my sleeve. “Sit down.” He pushed a chair out with his foot while he pulled the first aid kit out of his drawer.

  I sat, mostly so I could read the intel covering his desk. “Do you watch anything on TV besides doctor shows?”

  “The only other thing to watch is cop shows, and I get enough of that at work.” He rolled up my sleeve, peeled the used bandage off, tossed it in the trash, and wrapped a fresh one around my arm, making sure it was tight enough before tucking in the end and taping it.

  “You need to broaden your horizons. Comedies. Cartoons. Alien invasions. Cooking shows.”

  “Those make me hungry.”

  I laughed.

  “You must be feeling pretty good since you got another man off the hook for murder,” Heathcliff said.

  “I guess.” Chewing on my bottom lip, I sifted through the photos of the murder weapon. Gallo was right. It hadn’t been kept up. The forty-five showed patches of what looked like dirt, but could have been rust, in most of the nooks and crannies. “Did CSU test this residue?” I pointed to the brown specks.

  “It was dried mud and sediment.” He slid the report over to me. “The killer must have dropped the weapon when he was burying the body.”

  “Do you think it was buried with the body?”

  “The construction workers who found the body didn’t report finding a gun. The responding officers didn’t have any information on it in their reports. As far as I know, no one had seen this weapon prior to its discovery at Cross Security.”

  “Did Gallo report to the scene the night Knox’s body was discovered?”

  “He was off duty.”

  “That doesn’t mean he didn’t show up. He might have heard the call.”

  Heathcliff picked up the file and stood. “Give me a few minutes.”

  While he was gone, I slid into his chair to compare the timeline with Gallo’s work schedule. Yesterday, Heathcliff pointed out a few discrepancies. I wanted to see what they were.

  I already knew Gallo had allegedly been with his partner when I’d been attacked, but now that I knew he’d gone to Cross Security earlier that morning, I wondered just how much Swenson was covering for him. So I clicked a few keys and brought up Officer Swenson’s personnel file.

  Like Gallo, he appeared clean. He had one civilian complaint two years ago, which IAD had cleared him from, involving the amount of force used to break up a domestic dispute. Those were messy, so I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He also had a citation for bravery for entering a burning building to save a child when the fire department was delayed. From what I’d witnessed today, Swenson appeared to be a good cop, uninvolved in whatever mess Gallo had gotten himself into. But I couldn’t be sure. Appearances were deceiving. Still, he brought Gallo in. That had to mean something.

  The police would have to look into alibis, but since Swenson had a family, as indicated by the photo clipped to the visor of his cruiser, it should be simple to ascertain his whereabouts. Gallo, on the other hand, was a bit trickier.

  Gallo had been off duty when Knox’s body was dug up, but my gut said he’d shown up to the scene anyway. Surely, one of his fellow officers could place him there. That must have been what Heathcliff went to check on. Maybe that’s when Gallo found the murder weapon, if he didn’t already possess it. But why would he take it and plant it in Lucien’s SUV? That didn’t make any sense unless he wanted to ensure Cross took the fall for Knox’s murder.

  Confused, I shifted my attention to what Heathcliff found inside the apartment. Since he didn’t answer any of my questions earlier today, I’d just have to read the reports myself.

  Most of the items in the display cases matched the inventory list taken at Knox’s residence at the time of his disappearance. He must have gone home, packed the rest of his stuff, and left. That’s probably how the killer found him, followed him to the apartment, and killed him.

  Keying in another search, I checked to see if any 9-1-1 calls had been placed during the two-day window we believed to be when Knox was murdered. Two calls had been placed from the apartment complex on the eighth, the day after Knox flew back to town. The callers reported hearing gunshots. Police arrived on scene twenty minutes later, did not find anything suspicious, and determined the sound must have been firecrackers since they found burn marks on the third floor landing.

  I grabbed the sticky notes from the corner of Heathcliff’s desk and scribbled down the date and time. That’s when Knox was murdered. I was sure of it.

  I made a copy and stuck it to the edge of the detective’s monitor. He better appreciate me. I’d just determined TOD. For that, I should be deputized.

  Now that I knew when Knox was killed, I moved on to the other things the police found in the apartment. The DNA from the toiletries found in the bathroom had yet to match anyone in the database. Flipping pages, I wondered if any samples inside the apartment matched Knox.

  “Get out of my chair,” Heathcliff said.

  “That’s Thompson’s line.” I glanced over at the other detective’s desk while I switched chairs, but Detectives Thompson and O’Connell had been embroiled in a stakeout for the past week which kept them out of my destructive path. “Did you find any of Knox’s DNA at the apartment?”

  “No.”

  “Not even on the collectibles?”

  “CSU swabbed everything. They believe all the samples belong to the same person, but they don’t think he’s in the system.”

  “Is Gallo’s DNA in the system?”

  “Yes, we keep it on file in order to rule him out for possible scene contamination. I’m wondering now if that had been a mistake on any of his other cases.”

  “On the bright side, you know the sample CSU found doesn’t match Lucien.” He’d been arrested enough times that the police had everything they’d ever need on him. But that got me thinking. “Trey Knox didn’t have a record. Why was his DNA in the system? How’d you get a sample to compare it to? Or are you using a familial match from his half-sister?”

  “We had Knox’s DNA.” Heathcliff plucked the note off his monitor and stared at it. “When he disappeared, we searched his house. CSU found blood in his shower drain. They used a sample of hair from his hairbrush to see if the blood matched.”

  “Did it?”

  “Yes, not that it matters, since he didn’t die there.” He put the note down. “How’d you figure out TOD?”

  So I told him. “You’re slipping. You need a refresher course on detecting.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “I would have gotten to it eventually. I haven’t exactly had time with everything else coming in. Ledgers, account numbers, suspects, you bleeding all over the place.”

  I looked at my arm. “I am not.”

  “Be that as it may, I have to sort through this shit. But seeing as how your boss is no longer our prime suspect, you can stay and watch me work.”

  “You just want me to stick around, so I can share more pointers.”

  “No, it’s so I can make sure you stay out of trouble. Plus, when we interrogate Gallo, we might need your input. I doubt Cross will come back to share his insights.”

  “He might if you ask nicely.”

  “Phhtt.” Heathcliff snorted. “We are talking about the Lucien Cross who tried to hide your files from me by sticking them under the couch cushion. He’s prided himself on not helping the police. That’s not about to change, especially after these last few days.”

  Thirty-six

  “He won’t confess,” Heathcliff said when he returned from the interrogation room.

  “I didn’t think he would. What happens now?”

  “The murder weapon’s the clincher. Gallo admitted to placing it in Cross’s SUV. Apparently, Cross already convinced him w
e knew this, which helps strengthen our case. Your boss is good.”

  “I know.” That’s why I questioned every action he took. He always had an ulterior motive. “Did Gallo say where he got the murder weapon or where he kept it?”

  “He says he got it from Knox. He didn’t say much more than that. His lawyers have advised him not to talk until they have time to work out a strategy.”

  “Gallo’s already said too much. He’ll have to find a way to control the narrative.”

  “Like Cross did?” Heathcliff asked. “I can already tell you how it’ll go. Gallo continued to investigate the Knox disappearance. When Knox returned to the city under a false name, Gallo spotted him, probably at the house. He followed him back to the apartment and confronted him. Given the details the OIO has uncovered and the additional evidence contained in the ledger, Knox must have had the weapon for protection. He probably drew on Gallo, a fight ensued, and Gallo got a hold of Knox’s gun.”

  “That doesn’t explain shooting him in the chest four times.”

  “In the heat of the moment, with emotions running high and potentially fearing for his life, I can see it happening,” Heathcliff said. “After that, Gallo freaked, wrapped up the body, and found a place to hide it. He probably buried the gun too, figuring he’d be less likely to get caught.”

  “Until the airport decided to clear the field in order to expand the parking lot.”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, so why frame Lucien?”

  Heathcliff hid his snicker in a cough. “It couldn’t happen to a nicer person.”

  I gave his arm a shove. “I’m serious. Why? Gallo’s been sucking up to the Cross family for years. Not just Lucien, but his dad too.”

  “Maybe that’s why. Lucien never shook off the suspicion of his involvement in Knox’s disappearance, but nothing ever became of it because of his father. Gallo must have figured Cross was Teflon. It’d be safe to frame him.”

  Given what I’d seen regarding Cross’s treatment in this case, I had problems believing that. “Really?”

  Heathcliff shrugged. “Honestly, the commissioner is more concerned about optics—appearing tough on crime and coming off as fair and just—than his own son’s well-being. He ordered Moretti to crack down hard on the murderer. If that was Gallo’s plan, it backfired. Lucien was being railroaded, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “I saw it with my own two eyes.”

  “Still, we had evidence. Everything lined up. You know it.”

  To a certain extent, it still did. Cross and Gallo could be working together, given the evidence. But I wouldn’t dare suggest it. “Gallo told me he never hurt anyone.”

  “He insists he didn’t shoot Knox. He says we have it wrong.”

  “Did he say who killed Trey Knox?”

  Heathcliff shook his head. “I’d say the more we dig up regarding Gallo’s whereabouts over these last few days, the more apt he’ll be to talk. Right now, he still has the opportunity to claim self-defense. He could plead down.”

  “A cop in lockup doesn’t bode well. Cross proved it, and he isn’t even a cop.”

  “We’ll do our best to keep Gallo safe,” Heathcliff promised. “I’m surprised you care so much. He tried to kill you.”

  “No, he didn’t. He could have pushed me in front of the train. Frankly, I thought he might, which is why I handcuffed the two of us together.”

  “And you hate handcuffs.”

  “But he didn’t, just like he didn’t fire at anyone in the train station.”

  “He kicked you down the stairs. He choked out Cross. Those are violent tendencies. Maybe he has anger management issues or something.”

  “What about the apartment?”

  “Patrol’s been showing his photo around the neighborhood and asking if anyone’s seen him. Luckily, they had better luck finding people to talk to than I did. Three different people said they’ve seen Gallo entering or leaving the apartment on more than one occasion over the last two weeks. He’s probably been staying there. From what I hear, he might have needed to escape the mess of his apartment.”

  “Yeah, that would explain stocking the same brands of toothpaste and shaving cream at both places. But what about the DNA? You already said it wasn’t Gallo’s. Someone else must have been using the apartment. Who’s Gallo protecting?”

  “I don’t know, but I will find out.”

  “Do you think it’s Swenson or another cop?”

  “Doubtful,” Heathcliff said. “We’d have their DNA on file too. I’m guessing Gallo asked someone to stay at the apartment to make sure no one came snooping around. He couldn’t risk a break-in, and in that neighborhood, it’d be a matter of time. Gallo wouldn’t want the stain on the floor or what’s left of Knox’s collection to be discovered or stolen. If any of it surfaced in a pawn shop, that would have led to more trouble. He probably told whoever it was to take off as soon as the body was discovered. I’m guessing Gallo gave him the keys to the white sedan and told him to leave town.”

  “Did the neighbors ever see anyone else at the apartment besides Gallo?”

  “I’m not sure, but we’ll figure it out. Agent Jablonsky’s offered to help us look into the accounts. The BOLO is still in effect on the car. With the FBI getting involved, whoever’s working with Gallo won’t get far. The federal government has a lot more resources at its disposal than we do.” Heathcliff nodded toward the double doors. “Do you think Cross Security might want to help out?”

  “The department would question anything we found,” I said, catching a glimpse of Cross and Almeada as they spoke to an ADA and a police captain I didn’t recognize. “Until the charges are dropped and an apology is issued, Cross won’t have anything to do with the department.”

  “I can’t blame him.” Heathcliff studied me. “One of these days, you’re going to tell me what he did that convinced you he was guilty.”

  “He didn’t do anything.”

  “We both know that’s a lie, Parker. We’ve spent too much time undercover together. I know your tells, just like you know mine.”

  “He didn’t kill Knox. That’s the beginning and end of it.”

  “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, but he’s your boss. So I get it. I’m sure if he posed a danger to society, you’d let me know.”

  “Absolutely.”

  The police captain and ADA walked away, and Cross waved me over.

  “He’s beckoning,” Heathcliff said. “You better go.”

  “Will you let me know what shakes loose?”

  “Are you still worried some prick is going to show up at your house? Because you shouldn’t be. Gallo’s in custody. Our case is solid.”

  “You said that before. But someone’s in the wind. Until you find the sedan and whoever’s been staying in the apartment, I’m going to keep one eye open.”

  “I’ll send a few extra patrols your way just to be on the safe side, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Heathcliff jerked his chin toward the door. “Get going. I have to finish up the paperwork and get everything squared away before your boss gets that apology.”

  * * *

  The rest of the day flew by. Cross, Almeada, and I went over everything. Afterward, I headed home and waited for Martin’s call. But my mind wouldn’t turn off. I couldn’t fathom why Officer Gallo would kill Trey Knox. If it had been in self-defense, like Heathcliff suggested, Knox wouldn’t have four holes in his chest. I didn’t think Gallo would have had the stomach to remove the man’s fingertips, molars, and bash in his skull, but I might have misjudged him.

  The man I ran down in the subway tunnel had given up gracefully. Someone who’d go to those extremes to hide a body wouldn’t surrender that easily. I was missing something.

  After speaking to Martin, I crawled into bed. Maybe a good night’s sleep would clear my mind and give me a fresh perspective. Right now, nothing made sense.

  An unfamiliar chirp woke me. Rolling over, I pulled my nine millime
ter from where it’d been hidden beneath Martin’s pillow and aimed at the doorway. I waited, listening. The neon glow of the clock read 1:43.

  It was too late for visitors. Cross wouldn’t be stopping by at this hour. But I heard something. I just didn’t know what it was.

  Silently, I crept out of bed. After this morning, I had the foresight to sleep in pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. A glance at my phone didn’t show any missed calls or texts, so that wasn’t the source of the sound.

  Without turning on the lights, I edged toward the doorway and peered into the living room. Everything appeared as I’d left it. Once I made it to the kitchen, I hit the light switch and ducked behind the island. No shots rang out.

  “All right, Parker, you’re losing it.” Perhaps I’d been dreaming. But to be on the safe side, I cleared the apartment, searching every room, closet, and hiding place. Bolstering my nerves, I pulled the curtain to the balcony. But no one was outside.

  Leaving the lights on, I went back to bed. But I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I stared at the ceiling, listening to every creak and pop. The apartment building wasn’t as quiet as Martin’s estate. The noises were eerie and unfamiliar.

  When I couldn’t take it anymore, I put on a pair of jeans and checked the hallway. At this time of night, no one was around. I took the elevator down to the lobby, figuring a quick chat with building security would make me feel better.

  I’d just exited when the doorman smiled sheepishly at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. That’s why I didn’t buzz the intercom that long.”

  “What?” Had that been the source of the sound?

  “He thought I wanted to come up,” Heathcliff said.

  I spun, surprised to find him in one of the armchairs. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

  He held up his palm. “Relax, everything’s fine.”

  “If that were true, you wouldn’t be camped out in my apartment building at two o’clock in the morning.”

  The doorman did his best to ignore us, but from the look on his face, he found our exchange entertaining. He glanced at the detective, as if to say I told you so, and went back to working on a crossword puzzle.