Soft Case (Book 1 of the John Keegan Mystery Series)

by John Misak

would be more than happy to help out. It was the sort of guy I was.

  “I’ve banked on getting in. I don’t need this case to destroy everything I have created, Agnelli said.”

  “Please, stop worrying yourself so much. You’ll have the money you need and the backing you want. There’s nothing to be concerned about.” Chapman stopped speaking and turned his head to face my direction. For a minute, I thought I was caught, but then I realized that there was no way for Chapman to really see me from that distance unless he was a villain with superpowers. Although this might have been possible, it was certainly unlikely. “What about that Detective?”

  “Which one?”

  “The one who came to see me,” Chapman said.

  “He’s been taken care of. Shame too.”

  “Why do you say it like that?”

  “He was a good cop. The sort that did his job and didn’t ask for anything in return but another case to work on.” Wow, Agnelli liked me, he really liked me. I must admit I was surprised, and a bit proud, but in that shining compliment was also the truth. Agnelli had been the one who set me up. He’d been the one who had decided I shouldn’t be a cop anymore. Sure, he seemed to regret his decision, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was just a power-hungry dirt bag who stepped on anyone who got in his way. Rat bastard.

  “Don’t give me the ‘good cop’ stuff. You were the one that suggested he get caught in the middle of all of this. It all comes down to the fact that he was jeopardizing our situation. Remember, it could have been worse.” I wondered what Chapman meant.

  “I know. But the problem is, we’ve gotten rid of him for the time being, but we still don’t have any answers,” Agnelli said.

  “All he would have done is pin the whole thing on me, you told me that yourself.”

  This was getting deep. I was listening to the two men who masterminded my whole demise, and I wasn’t even doing anything about it. I wanted to. I wanted to walk right up to the two of them and strangle them, but that wouldn’t have been the right thing to do. I was better off gathering information, bringing it to the right people, and hoping justice would be served. Of course, I had no idea who the right people were. I knew I couldn’t go to anyone in the department. Agnelli had already planted the seeds there. I thought about Uncle Paulie, but he never gave me any indication that he would be able to help me further than getting me equipment and information. For all I knew, I would have all the evidence I needed to clear my name and solve the case, but no one would take it from me. Didn’t that just figure?

  “He probably would have, but that wouldn’t have been such a big deal. Either way, there is no use talking about it anymore. Keegan is on suspension, and we are moving forward with the case, as far as the media is concerned.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “You really don’t like him, do you?” Agnelli asked.

  “No, I don’t. He was too meddling. Not my type of person at all.” I thought that was funny. Meant I was good at my job.

  “I don’t think we will press any formal charges. Hell, we really never placed any charges on him at all. It was just a bunch of theatrics. He thinks he is going to jail, probably. I wouldn’t do that, though. I would never put a cop behind bars without reason.” What ethics the man had, huh?

  “So?”

  “He’ll probably stay on suspension for a month or two, and when the case blows over, we’ll take him back.”

  “No chance he’ll come after me again.”

  “None at all.”

  “Great. I have to get back to the office. I’m happy we got the chance to have this talk,” Chapman said as he got up. “Maybe soon we will find out who ...”

  The camera went dead. I never checked the battery. Man, I was operating on half power, mentally, I mean. If you really break it down, this was bad cop work, nothing more. I needed to work on my tradecraft a little bit if I was going to solve this case. Then again, I needed to work on a lot of things if I was going to solve this case.

  With my naked eye, I saw the two men walk back toward the Lexus. While I had the chance, I started the Caddy and pulled away, looking in the other direction as I passed by so they wouldn’t see me.

  Twenty-One

  Okay, so now I had some information to go on. It wasn’t a hell of a lot, but it was something to work with, something which could lead to more. I wanted to replay the tape, but with the battery dead, that was impossible. Then it hit me. Tape. Mullins’ mother’s tape. We had listened to it several times. We had it analyzed by Jacob. But we had never gone to see the woman. I couldn’t believe that I could have forgotten something like that. I didn’t know what she would have to offer, but she had to have some information that would help me out, even slightly. She had to be back from her South America trip. It was time to pay her a visit.

  With all the miles I had put on my Mom’s Cadillac, I was going to owe her a new car. The Caddy hadn’t seen this much use in years, and I prayed that it didn’t fall apart from the abuse. I decided to take it easy heading out to Valley Stream. My mother would kill me instantly if I damaged her baby. She was worse than my father when it came to cars.

  It took me almost an hour to get out of the city and onto the Long Island Expressway. The traffic leading up to the tunnel was a complete nightmare. Everyone was racing to get home. I was just racing to get myself into more trouble. I was going to question a woman whose son had just died, and I had no credentials to prove I was with the police department. On top of that, I was pulling up in a Cadillac, not a department car. The only thing I could hope for was that Roseanna was there. Well, I hoped she was there for other reasons too, but by now, I don’t think I need to mention that.

  I pulled up to the house around four, and was happy to see

  Roseanna’s car parked in the driveway. I couldn’t get over how well my luck was going. I should have played the lottery that day.

  I parked the Caddy across the street and walked up toward the house. As I did, the door opened, and Roseanna walked out. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans and a loose-fitting sweatshirt. She didn’t look great, but she looked good enough. More than good enough.

  “Hello Detective,” she said, a bag of garbage in her left hand.

  “Hello Roseanna. Nice to see you again.”

  She smiled. “Are you here to ask me more questions, or would you like to speak to Ms. Minkoff?”

  “As much as I’d like to talk to you, it’s Ms. Minkoff that I came here for this time.”

  Another smile. I was doing well.

  “She’s inside. I’ll let her know you are here.”

  “Say,” I said before she turned to go inside, “have you seen my partner around recently?”

  “Not since he was with you the other day.”

  “Oh. I thought he might have come out here to speak to her,” I said, gesturing toward the house.

  “No one has come to talk to her.”

  “I see. Will you be around for a while; in case I have other questions for you?”

  “I’ll be here until 5:30.”

  “Great.”

  She opened the door and led me inside, to the living room like the last time. Everything was the same, complete with that ridiculous light on the ceiling. I sat down on the couch and waited for Ms. Minkoff.

  Roseanna brought her in about three minutes later. She was a dazzling-looking woman. I don’t mean she was gorgeous, but she looked stately, almost the way someone of royal blood should look. She was tall, almost six feet I would presume, with long white hair and elegant-looking legs. Her hands were a little rough, most likely from the work she did, and her eyes, ice blue, were calculating. She seemed to take a mental picture of me as soon as she saw me. I would venture to say she knew all she needed to know about me from doing that. That made me uncomfortable, relying on my first impression.

  “Detective Keegan,” Ms. Minkoff said, “I am Jackie Minkoff. Roseanna said you would like to speak to me regarding my son’s death
.”

  I stood up and extended my hand. She shook it lightly, with sandpaper hands. This woman sure knew what a day of work was.

  “Yes, I would. First off, I would like to offer my condolences.”

  “Thank you. Please,” she said, gesturing toward the couch, “sit down.”

  I did, and she sat across from me on a love seat. She was wearing a black business suit, or at least that’s what it looked like, with a white shirt underneath. She looked classy.

  “What would you like to talk about?”

  “Well, ma’am, I am sure you know that we have your answering machine tape.”

  “I received it back in the mail from your department yesterday.”

  I didn’t know that, but it made sense. The woman did deserve to hear her son’s dying message.

  “Have you listened to it?”

  “I have.”

  “Can you offer me any insight on what he said? Anything that might pertain to this investigation?”

  She took a deep breath. “My son had a lot to say on that message. He didn’t sound much like himself, but I knew he was struggling with leaving the company and moving forward. Lord knows I told him to do it a long time ago, certainly before his father died.”

  “I know. His wife told us about his political aspirations.”

  “It wasn’t a secret.”

  “I know.”

  This woman seemed cold, like she didn’t trust me. That becomes a problem many times when you interrogate someone. Building trust becomes the single most important thing you can do.

  “Your son was a brilliant man.