by C. M. Sutter
“Where’s the letter?” Frank asked.
Paul hung his head. “I burned it. I couldn’t leave it at work, and I was afraid Eileen would find it at home. She’s—or was—a neat freak and was always organizing things. I couldn’t take that chance.”
Frank pushed for more. “How did you give them the codes?”
“The letter instructed me to write them down, put them in an envelope, and tape it to the bottom of a bench—”
“Let me guess, at the bus stop in front of the grocery store on East Seventy-Fifth and Blackstone Avenue.”
Paul’s eyes widened. “That’s right but—”
“Like we said, another pharmacist is sitting in one of our holding cells. She hasn’t resisted quite as hard as you have. Ego issues on your part, maybe?” Frank asked. “Anyway, she did as they instructed, and her family is still alive, although that doesn’t excuse her bad judgment.”
I scratched my cheek as I thought. Something wasn’t sitting right with me. I took my turn. “Who was that call from, how did you know in advance that your wife was dead, and where were you in that fifty-minute span of time?” I raised my hand before he answered. “I’d be careful with what’s about to come out of your mouth, Paul. We can see, hear, and smell shit from a mile away.”
He groaned as if the remorse was finally kicking in. “Fine. It was them that called me.”
“But according to your coworkers, that call came in on your cell.”
He nodded. “It did.”
Frank leapt from his chair. “I’ll go get his phone.” He turned toward Paul and jabbed the air with his finger before walking out. “I swear to God, if you deleted that number, I’ll personally make sure you face the worst judge in our county.”
“I’m sure it’s a burner—”
Frank slammed the door at his back before Paul finished the sentence.
With my elbows on the table, I leaned in. “What did they say to you?”
Paul’s words caught in his throat. “That they killed her and my kids were next.”
“More bullshit! They told you they killed your wife, yet you chose to screw around somewhere for fifty minutes before coming home? Tell me the truth!”
Paul jerked his head toward the attorney and pleaded for help.
Reynolds shrugged. “This has been your rodeo since the minute you committed to talking.”
I locked eyes with Paul. “Answer me.”
Frank returned with the phone in an evidence bag and took his seat. With gloved hands, he shook the phone out of the bag, turned it on, tapped the green icon, then pressed recent calls. He checked the dates and times then slid the phone to me. “Tillson called him at nine minutes after twelve according to the police report we have on file, so I’d say the call that came in two minutes later had to be them.” He picked up the phone, turned it toward Paul, then pointed at the entry in question. “Was this them?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
Frank scooped the phone back into the bag and said he was taking it to our tech department.
I redirected the conversation to what we’d been talking about before Frank came in. “Now, like I said before, answer my question.”
Paul dropped his head to the table and cried.
“Suck it up, asshole, and answer me before they kill another innocent person.”
“Fine! They told me to drive to the abandoned grain silos—they had something to show me.”
“You met with them in person and kept that to yourself for nearly two days? You son of a bitch!”
Reynolds barked out a warning. “Hey! Take it down a notch. Paul is still my client, and I won’t have that kind of language thrown around.”
I waved away his comments. He was the least of my concerns.
“I didn’t see their faces, I swear. They wore masks the entire time they were there.”
The door swung open. Frank was back, but this time, Lutz was with him. Neither man spoke, but the commander gave me a nod. I took that to mean they’d been watching from the observation room and came in to add a little more intimidation.
I continued. “Keep talking. We need to know the details of every second you were with them.”
“There were two of them, both masked like I said before. They pulled in and—”
“Pulled in? In what kind of car?” Lutz asked.
“I’m not a car buff, okay? I was nervous. It was a black car, though, and I remember seeing scratches down the driver’s side and rust along the lower edge when they drove away.”
I glanced at Frank. We’d heard the same description from Ann Stills, the neighbor we interviewed who lived three houses from the Harper residence.
“What did they want? Why the meetup?”
Paul fisted his reddened eyes. “To give me a final warning by showing me what they did to Eileen. They said the kids were next if I didn’t give them the codes right that second.” He burst into gut-wrenching sobs.
I understood his pain, but we needed more. “How did they show you?”
Through his tears, Paul continued. “Those sons of bitches videotaped her murder and played it on a tablet right in front of me! I didn’t need to ask you how she died since I saw it with my own eyes.”
I couldn’t imagine being in Paul’s predicament, but his poor judgment had led to Eileen’s murder.
Lutz took a seat next to me and began his own round of questions. “We understand you didn’t see their faces, but we need as much of a description as you can remember. Height, weight, regional dialect, tattoos, jewelry. Anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem to you, can help us put together a profile. What day and time did they tell you to leave that envelope under the bench?”
“Um, um.” He squeezed his temples. “God, I can’t think.”
“Take a breath, Paul. Knowing the time is important. We’ll look for cameras in the area that might have caught two men milling around that bus stop on the days in question. We may even catch the car in the neighborhood and get a plate number.”
“Now I remember. The letter came on Saturday, and they wanted me to leave the codes at the bus stop on Sunday. They didn’t say when they were going to burglarize the store, probably to keep me from telling anyone when it was going to happen.”
After writing that down, I tapped my pen against the table. “What time on Sunday?”
“Noon, but we were taking the kids to a matinee. I couldn’t just leave the house alone without raising suspicion.”
“Back to the descriptions,” Lutz said. “Tell us what you remember.”
“They weren’t big men—I’d say more on the scrawny side. Five foot ten or so but thin. The one who climbed into the passenger seat had the tablet, and the other stood outside next to my car door with a gun pointed at my head. They both wore the stocking cap type of masks, so I couldn’t even see their hair color, but I do remember the one at the window has stained teeth.”
I wrote that down.
“What about clothes?” Frank asked.
Paul rubbed his brow. “Jeans, I think, and sweatshirts. Plain—no words or logos.”
“Did both of them speak to you?”
“May I have some water? My mouth feels like parchment paper.”
“Make that two,” Reynolds said.
“This isn’t a damn restaurant.” Frank walked out of the room but was back within a minute’s time with a single bottle of water. He placed it in front of Paul then leaned against the one-way mirror.
Reynolds glared at Frank.
“Got a problem, buddy?” Frank asked.
Reynolds kept silent.
After twisting the cap off the bottle, Paul nodded a thanks, took a large gulp, and continued. “They spoke equally, mostly with threats to my kids if everything didn’t go according to plan. They even took my badge as insurance. They said I could find it the next morning somewhere at the back of the building unless the codes I gave them were wrong. I imagine they would have mailed my badge to the police or something like that if
I was lying. They wanted to know where the indoor camera was, which code went to which door, and then reminded me with the video what would happen to my kids if they encountered any hiccups.”
“What about accents, regional dialects, deep voices, specific words they used, that sort of thing?” Lutz asked.
Paul shook his head. “None that I remember. They just talked like regular people. I wasn’t focusing on their speech when one had a gun at my head and the other was showing me a video of them murdering my wife. They did say there was more of them, though.”
“Could have been intimidation posturing,” Lutz said.
I gave Paul a long stare. “Here’s the thing, Paul. Officers scoured the back of that store, and nobody found a badge. You sure you’re telling us the truth?”
He nodded. “I went there myself and found it before the store opened. I knew once the burglary call came in, it would be too late.”
I wrinkled my forehead. “But Tillson and Jackson sat on your car at the hotel all night long. It didn’t move.”
“I’m sorry. I was desperate. I slipped out the back and called a rideshare driver to take me to the pharmacy. Once I found my badge, I called another one to take me back to the hotel.”
I couldn’t help sneering. “And you left your kids alone?”
Reynolds heaved a sigh. “I think we’re done here. Paul can’t do your police work for you, and he’s told you everything he knows—scratched black car, scrawny guys wearing masks, and the location and time they wanted the envelope to be at the bus stop. I think you can take it from there.”
Lutz pushed back his chair and stood. “I agree. I’ll have Bill take Paul back to his cell.”
“But—”
Lutz turned. “We’re the police, and we call the shots, not you, Mr. Harper.”
Frank and I followed our commander out. We had a lot of work ahead of us that we needed to dig into.
When we walked into the bull pen, Henry and Shawn had already returned from their interviews.
“What’s the word on the other pharmacists?” I dropped down onto my chair.
Henry huffed. “Nobody knows a damn thing.”
“Sounds about right. The two we have in lockup didn’t know a damn thing either, but they sang like canaries when we threatened them with multiple charges. See if those remaining pharmacists or any of the CMS employees reported the threats to their local police station. I’m betting nobody did.”
Chapter 21
Henry placed the receiver on the base. “Nobody from any of the burglarized CMS pharmacies called police stations and cited threats against them.”
I rocked back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. “Why am I not surprised?” I moved my computer’s cursor from one side of the street to the other using Street View imagery. I needed to see a building with a camera that faced the bus stop shelter on Seventy-Fifth Street and Blackstone. I groaned as I checked the time. “Most of the mom-and-pop shops in that neighborhood have already closed for the day. The only place that stays open late is the grocery store, and it’s behind the bus stop—no help there. We’ll probably have to walk the neighborhood tomorrow.”
The second shift crew had started trickling in, and Lutz was right behind them. “Call it a night, guys, and go home. That’s why we have an evening shift.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. Our visitors were enjoying their jail quarters, and we might have more guests by tomorrow. Alvina had spoken to her husband, confessed her lack of good judgment, and the boys were now his responsibility until we wrapped the case. For the family’s safety, she suggested he stay with extended family for the time being.
Frank and I left the building together, and he lit a cigarette before the door had time to latch behind us. I shook my head but had decided weeks ago to stop nagging him. He was a grown man, and if he wanted to be plagued with all kinds of health issues, that was his business.
He blew out a mouthful of smoke as we crossed the lot. “So, we’re going to check out the bus stop neighborhood tomorrow?”
“Yep, we don’t have any other options. Chances are, they live in that area since they wanted both Alvina and Paul to leave the codes at the same place. Maybe we’ll get lucky and see the car drive by.”
Frank nodded as he climbed into his truck and flicked the cigarette butt out the window. “Yeah, maybe.”
I held my tongue and gave the doorframe a pat instead. “Night, partner. See you in the morning.”
I thought about Hanna as I drove. I would grab a burger from a drive-through restaurant, get Bandit fed and settled once I was home, then give Hanna a call after eating. I reflected on the coincidences in life as I waited in line to select my meal. When Bandit had been poisoned a few months back, he was treated at Hyde Park Animal Hospital, the very place where Hanna was recently hired. The animal hospital employed four vets and a dozen or more techs, and Hanna was a welcome addition to their understaffed hospital.
I smiled as I pictured her.
She’s the niece of my favorite neighbor, a dog lover, a vet, she only lives ten minutes away, she’s beautiful and normal—emphasis on normal.
The planets must have been in perfect alignment when I met her, and the timing couldn’t have been better.
I pulled into the garage and cut the engine, grabbed the fast-food bag, and went inside. As usual, Bandit greeted me with more love than most humans deserved.
“Hey, buddy, what’s up?”
I laughed as his tail wagged triple-time. He followed me into the kitchen, where I set the bag on the counter and filled his food dish. Once his food was gobbled down, I opened the slider and allowed him out. Bandit milled around in the backyard while I ate my dinner.
Glancing at the mantel clock on the built-in bookcase, I saw that it was pushing eight o’clock. Minutes later, with a cold beer on the coffee table and a curled-up, contented pooch at my feet, I called Hanna. She picked up right away, meaning she probably had her phone in hand and was scrolling through who knew what, anyway.
“Hi, Jesse. How’s it going?”
“You know. Same bleep different day.”
She laughed openly. “I’m not a prude. You can swear in front of me as long as you aren’t tossing out f-bombs.”
I grinned. “And I’m not a jackass who would use that kind of language in front of a woman. Now, my buddies at work, that’s a different story.” We both laughed, then I took a swig of beer. “Got plans for Saturday night?”
“Depends. What’s on the table?”
I liked that about Hanna. She could dish it out as well as take it. “How about dinner and a movie? It’s the opening weekend of that new crime thriller that’s been advertised so much.”
“Dark Destiny?”
“Yep, that’s the one. Maybe dinner at Cucina on Clark first?”
“Sounds great. I’m game.”
I peeled the label off the beer bottle as we talked. “So, did you save any lives today?”
She sounded happy as she recalled her day. “I stitched a Puggle’s foot. Does that count?”
“It does in my book. What happened?”
“Poor thing stepped on a piece of glass. How has your week gone?”
Hanna and I didn’t talk on the phone every day, but we did text each other often, yet explaining cases via text messages wasn’t something I would do. I told her what I could without giving up details that we wouldn’t share with the public.
“So an innocent woman was murdered because a couple of maniacs want door codes to pharmacies?”
“That sums it up, and now with the little bit of information we do have, we’ll try to pick up the perps or their car on surveillance cameras. Only one person has had personal contact with the killers, but their faces were covered. I think our best bet is to look for the car since two people have described it exactly the same way.”
For the next ten minutes, we discussed our jobs and our weekend plans, then I said good night and hung up. Our relationship was moving along slowly, but we wer
e in a good place. I didn’t want to rush anything, and from our conversations, I was sure Hanna felt the same way.
The mantel clock chimed nine times. With one more beer and the TV tuned to a local station, I settled in to watch the news. Hopefully, whatever the breaking news was for the night, it wouldn’t be so alarming that it would warrant a call back to the station.
It is Chicago, and our city has more crime than most.
I took a seat on the recliner, pulled up the footrest, and watched. The breaking news involved a gang-related drive-by shooting, and our gang investigations division would be in charge of that. I’d be able to go to bed at ten o’clock like I’d hoped and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, Frank and I would hit the neighborhood with the bus stop and start looking for cameras. Several more pharmacists were due to be questioned at our precinct and with added pressure—and threats of arrest—maybe some of them would start talking.
Chapter 22
I had just poured my coffee into a travel mug when my cell phone rang. A quick glance at the microwave clock told me I was about to hear something bad since it wasn’t even seven thirty in the morning yet.
“Hello.”
“Jesse, it’s Bob. There’s been another abduction that’s related to the break-ins.”
“Damn it. What’s our involvement? Was somebody killed?”
My commander sounded stressed. “As of fifteen minutes ago, no, but we’re well aware of how that played out with Paul’s wife. We’re meeting in the roll call room as soon as everyone can get there. Since our team is part of the violent crimes task force unit, Commander Fredricks wants us to work hand in hand with his department on the kidnapping.”
I twisted the lid closed on my travel mug, brought Bandit inside, and locked the slider. After giving him a scratch behind his ears, I left Bandit to do his own thing and headed downstairs to the garage. I lifted the overhead, climbed into my car, and backed out, still with the phone pressed against my ear.