by Blake Banner
“Unnatural?”
“I know,” I said to the window. “That’s what I thought.”
EIGHT
We stopped first at the Van Etten Building on the hospital campus to have a talk with Frank, the ME. We found him in the morgue with Sebastian Acosta. He looked up as we came in, then nodded a few times as though we’d said something he agreed with.
“Hello, Frank.”
“No surprises,” he said. “He died of the head wounds. He bled profusely from the first three shots to his arm and chest. The panic would have caused an accelerated heart rate, which in turn would have increased the loss of blood. The last two shots were to his head and those were the ones that killed him.”
We approached the table and looked down at Sebastian. He looked peaceful. His panic was over. Without thinking, I muttered, “Fear no more the lightning flash, nor the all dreaded thunder-stone.”
Frank considered me a moment, then said, a little sourly, “Very appropriate. I’ve sent the slugs to ballistics and asked them as a personal favor to fast-track them. We’re not supposed to do that, but we do. Off the record, I can tell you that in Mort’s opinion…”
Dehan frowned, “Mort?”
“In ballistics. The holes in the door were made by a forty-five. These were a thirty-eight.” He sighed. “There’s something else. The first impression, when you see the car—it looks like a gangland shooting, a hit, what they used to call a cowboy.”
Dehan nodded. “That was my impression.”
He shook his head. “But I am pretty sure it was not. In a hit of that sort, at point blank range, you tend to have a grouping of shots around the vital areas, head and heart. Even without thinking about it, somebody who is used to using a gun points it where they want the bullet to go. But here…” He shook his head again. “Especially if you factor in the two shots that hit Luis, those rounds were flying all over the place. You have one in the upper arm, one through the sternum, and one in the lower, left lung, then one in the temple and the other through the back of the cranium. Meanwhile, two have missed Sebastian completely and hit Luis, one in the lower left lung, and the other in the left shoulder. The shots were erratic, and that means something…”
Dehan said what it meant: “He wasn’t used to using a gun. The recoil was making it jump. And it’s only a .38…”
Frank nodded at her. “Exactly. Whoever shot these boys was not used to using a gun.”
Dehan gave me her ‘told you so’ face. I ignored it and asked Frank, “Any news on Luis?”
His answer was dry, carefully unemotional. “He’s in a coma. He lost a lot of blood.” He hesitated a moment, frowning down at Sebastian. “I have taken this very personally, John. I liked these boys, they were friends. I had high hopes for both of them, but especially Sebastian. He was a very committed young man, he should have a had a full and rewarding life. Instead, this…” He gestured at the corpse on the table. “This senseless act has robbed him of everything, and robbed the world of a fine human being. And there aren’t many of those.”
“I hear you.”
“Anything you need on this one, I’ll put in the extra hours on my own time if need be.”
I thought for a moment. “How well did you know them, Frank?”
He shrugged. “We didn’t hang out together, obviously. I am twice their age, but they sometimes joined me for lunch. We talked a lot. Sebastian asked my advice on his career choice. We had a good rapport. I think I knew them quite well. Why?”
I put it to him straight. “You think Luis was the type to steal drugs from the hospital and sell them?”
He frowned hard at me, then sat slowly on one of his bench stools. “You think they might have been there selling? They strayed into somebody’s territory and got punished?”
Dehan shrugged. “It’s all we’ve got at the moment.”
He thought about it a long time, then shook his head. “No.” Then he shrugged. “Obviously, you have to go with the evidence, but off the record, my personal opinion is that Luis would not do that. He is a very ethical, moral young man. A lady’s man, a flirt, a party-animal, certainly all that, but fundamentally a very moral, ethical young man. And Sebastian even more so. I would be truly astonished if that turns out to be the cause of this killing.”
I stared at Dehan a moment and she stared back at me. Finally, I said, “OK, thanks, Frank. We’ll keep you posted.”
“Please do.”
We stepped out into the sunshine and walked slowly through the gardens toward the main hospital complex. Dehan watched her feet, with her hands in her pockets, and I stared at the trees, without seeing them. Eventually, she stopped and spoke without looking at me.
“If we are wrong about the motive, and it seems we might be, what possible reason could anybody have to ambush these two boys and kill them?”
I turned to face her and sighed. I held up two fingers. “Two more important points: how did the killer know they were going to be there? And, increasingly, it is looking as though Sebastian was the intended victim.”
She nodded for a bit, gazing at the grass, like the grass was slowly beginning to make sense. “We really need to find out who owns that Toyota.” She started to walk again and I fell in beside her. “One minute, Stone, they are having a party with Lynda, next minute, they are parked outside Angela’s house, in somebody else’s car, and they are ambushed.”
“I agree. Whose car is it? What made them use that car? And what was their purpose in being outside Angela’s house at three AM?”
We entered the hospital and at the reception desk, I showed the receptionist my badge and asked where Luis Irizarry was. She checked her computer and gave me the directions to his room.
When we found it, I peered through the glass panel in the door and saw Ed standing with his back to me, talking to a large man in a white coat. Between them, I could see Mary’s small, worried face. Luis was in the bed, intubated and motionless, connected to a heart monitor. I knocked and we pushed in. Ed and the doctor turned to look at us.
The doctor frowned. “Who are you?”
Simultaneously, Ed said, “What do you want?”
I ignored him and nodded to Mary. “Mrs. Irizarry.” I showed the doctor my badge. “Doctor, I’m Detective Stone and this is my partner, Detective Dehan. We are investigating this shooting. We were at the ME’s office and thought we’d check on Luis and see how he was. Do you mind if I ask what his prognosis is?”
Ed spoke before the doctor could draw breath. “Dr. Delgado, you will answer no questions from these detectives! My son’s records are covered by…”
Dr. Delgado had a big voice to go with his big body, and he used it now to good effect. “Mr. Irizarry, I am well aware of my obligations to my patients.”
Ed’s mouth snapped shut.
Delgado turned to me and added, “And to the police. Luis is scheduled for surgery this afternoon. He is in a coma at the moment. It is very hard to make a prognosis until we have removed the bullets and patched him up.” He smiled comfortably at his own reassuringly colloquial usage. “If you would like to give me a contact number, I’ll have somebody call you as soon as there is any kind of development.”
I gave him my card and he excused himself and left. As soon as the door closed behind him, Ed was snarling again. “What are you doing here, Detective? Why aren’t you out there looking for whoever did this to my son?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, if you would like to tell me exactly where ‘out there’ is, I will gladly go there and look for him.”
He screwed up his forehead and said, “Eh?”
I sighed. “We are ‘out there’ looking for the man who did this to your son, Mr. Irizarry. ‘Out there’ happens to be in here right now.” I pointed in the general direction of Frank’s office and said, “The Medical Examiner, and here, to know whether we are dealing with a double homicide or, if not, what Luis can tell us about what happened that night.”
His lips clenched into a tight l
ine. “No. Oh, no. No way.”
Dehan gave a small, incredulous laugh. “Excuse me?”
“I know cops, and there is no way you are talking to my son. No way. You talk to me, I am his attorney.”
I frowned. “Does he need an attorney, Mr. Irizarry?”
He glared at me. “Anyone who talks to the cops needs an attorney! You talk to my son and before you know it, you’ll have him framed for that little skunk’s murder!”
Dehan crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Skunk, Mr. Irizarry?”
He advanced a step toward her, stabbing at her with a fat, hairy finger. “I know you, Detective Dehan, clawed your way out of the gutter, stepping on friends and family along the way, watching them get abused, framed, and exploited by your new friends and colleagues, the pigs you call police officers. I know you, I know all of you, and you will not get your claws into my son!”
She didn’t move, but I saw her cheeks flush. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and steady. “You’d better watch that finger, counselor, if it gets any closer to my chest, we’re going to have a problem.”
He scowled at her and withdrew his hand.
I said, “That’s the second time you have made reference to Sebastian in that way. What makes you call him a skunk?”
He laughed out loud. It was an ugly noise. “Oh! So now you’re going to slander the dead boy? Of course! A white med student gets shot in the Bronx and it’s the filthy Puerto Rican gangs, the lawless Latinos! But a Puerto Rican med student gets shot and it’s his own damned fault!”
For a moment, I had brain-ache. I frowned and shook my head. “Mr. Irizarry, it was you who called him a skunk. I asked you why you called him a skunk.”
He wagged his finger at me in the negative. I looked at Mary.
She sighed. “My husband believes that Sebastian was leading Luis astray…”
Ed turned on her. “Don’t you dare feed them ammunition! Do you know what these people are capable of doing with a statement like that?” He turned and pointed his finger at me. “That was hearsay! It is not admissible and what is more, I deny it!”
Dehan sighed heavily. “Mr. Irizarry. You cannot have it all ways. We want to catch the person who shot Luis, but if you obstruct us at every turn, you are going to make that very difficult to do.”
He curled his lip. “That’s right, blame your own inadequacies on us!”
I shook my head. “Don’t use the plural, Mr. Irizarry. Your wife wants to help find the man who murdered Sebastian and attempted to murder your son. It is only you who seem hell-bent on stopping us, and frankly, I am beginning to wonder why.”
His face went crimson. “Take your threats and get the hell out of here! Get out!”
I took a step closer to him, so we were barely inches apart, and looked at Mary. “Mrs. Irizarry, Mary, I hope your son makes a full recovery. When he does, I trust that you will prevail upon him to talk to us and tell us everything he knows.” I looked down at Ed’s scarlet, trembling face, and added, “It is possible that whoever tried to kill him may try again.” I looked back at Mary. “It is important that we get every bit of help we can to catch this killer. Thank you, Mrs. Irizarry.”
I moved to the door and pulled it open and Dehan stepped out, but before I did, I turned to Ed. “I hope, Ed, that you will change your mind and decide to tell me exactly what it was that you had against Sebastian.”
I waited a moment, but he just stared and trembled. So I shrugged and stepped out after Dehan.
We rode down in the elevator in silence, crossed the big, echoing, tiled lobby and stepped into the bright, midday sun. Then we walked in silence back toward the Van Etten Building and her car. As we climbed in, I asked her, “You about ready for lunch?”
She nodded. “Yeah. You want to grab some beef sandwiches while I trace the Toyota?”
I was a little surprised but didn’t show it. It had become almost a habit for us to grab a pizza or a burger at lunch time, with a quick beer and a review of the case. I said, “Sounds like a plan,” and she pulled away without answering.
NINE
She dropped me at the corner and I stepped into the deli to get two beef sandwiches. The bell clanked un-sonorously overhead, the door clunked closed, and my senses were invaded by the aroma of freshly baked bread, smoked ham, and spices. Larry was leaning on the counter with his huge forearms and an amused glint in his eye.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Stone?”
“Hi, Larry. Give me two beef sandwiches, will you?”
“With extra mustard for the lady, huh?”
“Yup.”
He started slicing meet on a lethal-looking machine. “So…” He winked at me. “How was the holiday?”
I feigned innocent ignorance. “Huh?”
He stepped back in incredulity, shrugged, and spread his arms the way only Italians know how. “What? You ain’t been on holiday in seven years! You been back three days and you don’t remember the holiday?”
“Oh, you mean Goa.”
“Of course I mean Goa! You been anywhere else? Goa! Course I mean Goa!” He started cutting again. “So, come on, spill, how was it?” He nodded and winked. “Good? Huh? Everything good?”
“Yeah. It was good, great. Nice to get away.”
He stared at me, winced, and shook his head. “Ahhh, porca miseria! You struck out, huh?”
I gave him a ‘seriously?’ look. “Don’t you get enough excitement on TV, Larry?“
“Hey, we care about you, man! We rootin’ for you! You make a handsome couple!”
“She’s my partner. We’re good friends. Now cut it out, will you!”
He shook his head, said something in Italian that sounded vaguely offensive, and handed me the two sandwiches. I carried them up Fteley Street toward the station house, trying to focus my mind on Luis and Sebastian, and wondering how significant Ed’s behavior was. As I stepped through the door, Maria was on the desk. She jerked her head at me.
“Hey, handsome.”
“Hello, beautiful.”
She glanced up and down. The place was almost empty. She said, “C’mere.”
I stepped over. She leaned forward on the desk and half-whispered, “I been meanin’ to ask you since you got back, how’d it go?”
I frowned. “How did what go, Maria?”
She grinned. “How’d it go in Goa? You know… ‘go in Goa?’” She waggled her eyebrows.
I sighed. “Really?”
“C’mon! You can tell me! Did you…? You know!” She leered.
“Mind your own business! And also no, of course not!” I pointed at her. “And don’t you start spreading gossip or I will have your hide!”
She gave me a look that could only be described as compassionate. “You struck out. What happened?” She glanced around again, then leaned forward and whispered again, “Well you’re doing something wrong, John! Because that girl likes you! And I do mean like!”
I pointed at her and made a warning face. She sighed and I went into the detectives’ room, pretending I was not aware of all the surreptitious glances I was receiving. I dropped Dehan’s sandwich on the desk and lowered myself into my chair. She stared at me, eyes slightly narrowed, as I unwrapped my sandwich.
“Get this. The Toyota—just hazard a guess who it’s registered to…”
I shrugged and bit into the sandwich. As I chewed, I spoke with my mouth full. “I always assumed it was Angela’s.”
The smile faded from her face. “Son of a bitch! How could you assume that?”
I shrugged again and swallowed. “It didn’t make much sense that they were arriving at that time. It made more sense that they were leaving. I figured maybe they went there from Lynda’s. So the odds were good that they were borrowing her car to go home.”
She nodded a few times, then smiled and shook her head. “You’re right.”
“Still doesn’t get us very far.”
“But it will give us a little more leverage when we talk to her this after
noon.”
“That it will.”
She grabbed her sandwich and started to unwrap it. She took a big bite and leaned back in her chair to chew. We both sat like that, chewing and staring at each other. After a moment, Mo, at the desk across the aisle from ours, looked over.
“Do you know how weird that is? It’s… unsettling!”
Dehan grinned at me and I chuckled. She looked over at Mo, who had turned back to whatever it was he was doing. “It’s a Zen technique. It helps to focus the mind, right, Stone?”
I nodded. “Mm-hm…”
“It’s from the Sacha Naso school of meditation. You should try it with Gus.”
He stared at her with his mouth slightly open for a moment, then sighed and returned to his work.
I stuffed the last piece of sandwich in my mouth, screwed up the paper, and threw it in my trash can. “I want to talk to Sue again. I want to know what goes on between her and the Irizarrys. She made some quip about Luis holding Sebastian back, remember? And Ed has an obvious problem with Luis. We need to know what goes on there. After that, I want to talk to Angela, if she’s up to seeing us. She lied about why the boys were there, and failed to mention she lent them her car. I want to know why.”
Dehan looked at her watch. “If she took a pill, she’s probably still out for the count.”
“OK, let’s go talk to Sue again. And if Peggy the Dragon is there, you have my permission to perform a rugby tackle on her.”
She stood and smiled. “That will be my pleasure, Sensei.”
Mo looked at me like I was a six-month old lettuce he’d just found in his fridge. “Sensei…?”
I put my hand on his shoulder and smiled with real humanity and compassion. “If you feel lost, you too can come to me, Mo, and I will show you the way of the inner axolotl, the path of Sacha Naso.”
“Take a hike, Stone!”
“Be at peace, Mo.” I patted his shoulder and left.
In the car, as I climbed in, I said, “Sacha Naso?”
She suppressed a smile, backed out of the lot, and pulled away. Then, with the worst kind of Hollywood Chinese accent, she said, “Detective Mo, he such an asshole!”
