Behind The Lies

by Mark R Beckner

After the meeting, Cross approaches Garcia. “Why didn’t you mention the coffee cup DNA test?”

  “It’s too early,” Garcia tells her. “If it’s a match, it will be self-explanatory, and if not, it won’t matter. I should have told you I was not going to bring it up. Thanks for recognizing my cue.”

  “Commander may not be too happy if he finds out.”

  “Oh, believe me, I know.”

  Garcia is tired and stressed, so he leaves work a bit early. Upon getting home, he finds Rosa has fixed a nice dinner of steak fajitas and salad, one of Garcia’s favorites. She even has a frozen margarita ready for him.

  “I figured it was a stressful day for you,” she says.

  “Yes, now just need to wait and see what happens,” says Garcia.

  “Forget all that now, let’s have a nice family dinner and relax tonight,” Rosa tells him. “We have your favorite for dessert, chocolate chip ice cream.”

  It is just what Garcia needs. A good homecooked meal, margarita, family conversation, and most delicious of all, chocolate chip ice cream. For a few hours, Garcia is able to let go of his concerns.

  The DNA

  The next day, Garcia is anxiously awaiting the DNA results. The minutes and hours tick away with no call from Cross. What is taking so long? I told her it was for the Candy Man Killer; it should be top priority.

  At 11:00 am, Ricci is not at his desk and Garcia can’t wait any longer. He picks up the phone and calls Cross. “Cindy, what is taking so long?”

  “Juan, it is a priority, but we still have lots of other cases, other homicides. Our analysts are busy and doing the best they can. We should have a result late this afternoon.”

  “Alright, but when you know call me on my cell phone, okay?”

  “Yes, I’ll call you on your cell.”

  The wait is excruciating for Garcia. I hope it doesn’t match. Please don’t match, I don’t want it to be Mike. What if it is? What if it isn’t and Marshall finds out?

  Garcia finally leaves the office and goes for a walk. He stops at Marie’s Café, about five blocks from the station, grabs a newspaper, and sits down. He only orders a diet Coke. Too much anxiety to eat anything right now. After another hour or so of reading and fiddling, Garcia walks back to the office. But he is too stressed to do any significant work.

  Once Ricci returns to his desk, Garcia picks up his notebook and leaves, heading to the detective lounge. Garcia doesn’t want to receive the phone call from Cross with Ricci within hearing distance. He doodles some sketches in his notebook to pass the time while waiting for the call from Cross.

  At 3:15 pm, Garcia’s cell phone finally rings. It is Cross calling.

  “Hello Cindy, what have you got?”

  “We have a result, Juan. The unknown DNA from the cup matches our Candy Man Killer DNA.”

  “Oh my god!” Garcia blurts out. He feels immediately nauseous and can feel his heart rate jump up. His face feels flush, and his breathing becomes heavy.

  “Are you okay Juan?”

  “Yeah, yeah….., I’m…fine,” he responds between breaths. “I just…..can’t believe it.

  “Well, it’s true, we have a match.”

  “Cindy, can you excuse me for a minute, I’ve got to go…..I’ll call you right back,” says Garcia just before he presses the red disconnect button on his phone.

  Garcia rushes to the bathroom, trying not to be obvious to anyone who might see him. He feels the urge to vomit and can feel the heat in his forehead and cheeks. He even feels like he is shaking a bit. Garcia enters a bathroom stall and leans over the toilet. He is resisting the urge to empty his stomach and starts to take deep slow breaths to calm himself. After a few minutes, the urge to vomit starts to subside. He leaves the stall and walks to a sink where he begins to splash cold water on his face. He cups his hands, allowing them to fill with water, then drinks the cool water. It feels so refreshing and further helps calm his nerves. After about 10 minutes of deep breathing, Garcia starts to feel normal again. He still has a pit in his stomach, but at least he feels as though he can function. Garcia finds an interview room not being used and calls Cross from there.

  “What happened?” asks Cross.

  “I’ll explain later. Can you bring the report over and meet with me and Sgt. Pennington?”

  “Sure, I know this is priority one. I’ll head over now. See you in about 30 minutes”

  Garcia takes a few moments to further calm his emotions. His visceral reaction to the news is as a friend and colleague to Ricci. He had hoped he was wrong in his suspicion. After another twenty minutes of thinking it through, his disappointment is now turning to anger. How can a well-respected homicide detective ever think cold-blooded murder is an answer to his misguided anger? This will blemish the entire department. We will all suffer from this.

  Garcia calls Sgt Pennington to tell her he has important critical news about the Candy Man Killer case and needs to meet with her and Cindy Cross in Pennington’s office in about 10 minutes.

  “Should I get the Commander in here?” she asks.

  “No, I need to meet with just you and Cindy for now. You’ll understand when you hear what I have to say.”

  “Alright, I’ll be waiting.”

  Garcia waits in the lobby for Cross to arrive. He does not want to see Ricci, as he is not sure how he will react, and does not want to give anything away. They still need to confirm the DNA from the cup is indeed Ricci’s by getting a swab of known DNA from his mouth. Garcia is not sure how the Sergeant, or Commander, will want to approach this.

  At 3:55 pm, Garcia meets Cross in the lobby. “Do you have the report?”

  “Yes, it’s right here in this folder. What’s going on Juan?” Do you know who this DNA belongs to?”

  “The cup you tested was Mike Ricci’s cup from yesterday morning.”

  Cross looks into Garcia’s eyes with her mouth hung slightly open. “Are you telling me you think this is Ricci’s DNA?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. I felt sick about it when you told me it matched, that’s why I had to get off the phone.”

  “Juan,” Cross cautions as she speaks slowly, “You better be sure about this.”

  “Oh, I know Cindy, believe me, I know. Unless someone picked that cup out of his trash and licked the entire rim of the cup, it has to be his DNA.”

  “Technically it is still unknown DNA, so we need a known sample from Ricci himself to confirm the identification,” advises Cross.

  “Yes, that’s what we need to talk to Sarge about.”

  Garcia and Cross enter Sgt. Pennington’s office.

  “Hello Juan, Cindy. I’m anxious to hear your critical news,” says Pennington.

  Garcia hands her the DNA report. The report contains the chart of the DNA sequencing, often referred to as alleles or genetic markers that are used to compare the two DNA samples. There are a total of 20 genetic markers used for comparison.

  “We have two really good samples of DNA to work with,” explains Cross. “One from the blood at our last scene, and one from saliva.” She points to numbers on the report. “If you look at these two columns, you will see the number sequences match at each marker. That tells us the DNA from both samples are from the same person.”

  “This IS critical news,” an excited Pennington exclaims. “Whose saliva did we test?”

  Garcia hesitates, “It came from Mike Ricci’s paper coffee cup from yesterday.”

  Pennington lifts her head from the report and leans back in her chair, eyes darting between Garcia and Cross. She takes a deep breath and then exhales. “Are you trying to tell me our Detective Ricci is the killer?”

  “Yes, I believe he is,” answers Garcia. “And the DNA confirms it, at least for the most recent murder. I don’t know what other explanation there could be.”

  “This is hard to believe Juan, what drove you to test Mike’s DNA?”

  Garcia then proceeds to explain to Pennington the coincidences he’s observed, Ricci�
�s attitude toward dealers, and how he began to have suspicions. He also tells her how he had approached Commander Marshall with his concerns and was reprimanded. He ignored the Commander's direction and secretly obtained a sample of Ricci’s DNA. Therefore, he has come to her for advice.

  “We still need to get a sample from Ricci directly to confirm the results,” advises Cross. “If he will not voluntarily submit to a swab, we will have to get a court order.”

  Pennington thinks for a few moments. “Okay, here’s what we are going to do. Juan, I will go with you to tell the Commander. Let’s pull Jackson in as well so he knows what’s going on. Cindy, if needed, are you ready to take a sample from Ricci?”

  “Yes, I have my kit with me.”

  “Alright, I’m not sure how the Commander will want to proceed, but several things need to be done. Get the DNA sample, and start on search warrants for Ricci’s home and car. Has Ricci left yet?”

  “No,” says Garcia, “but it’s getting late, and he may leave soon.”

  “I’ll go tell him not to leave due to some important new developments in the case,” says Pennington. “That will buy us some time to talk to Marshall. Juan, you go find Jackson and meet me at Marshall’s office in fifteen minutes.”

  When Garcia tells Jackson the news, he is stunned. “You’re screwing with me!”

  “Sorry Trevon, but I’m not.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Pennington, Garcia, Jackson, and Cross are ready to meet with Commander Marshall. “Come on in,” invites the Commander. “Must be something important. Where is Ricci?”

  “He’s busy right now,” responds Pennington. “We have something to tell you. Our lab has matched the suspect DNA in the Candy Man Killer case to DNA taken from Detective Ricci’s coffee cup. We believe he may be our serial killer.”

  “What the hell is going on here!?” yells Marshall. “Juan, are you behind this nonsense? What did I tell you?”

  “Yes, I am sir. I’m sorry, but my suspicions never went away, so I had the lab test his paper coffee cup for DNA.”

  “Didn’t I tell you not to do that?”

  “Commander,” says Pennington, “what’s important now is that we have critical evidence pointing to one of our own detectives. It can’t be ignored. You want us to just walk away and pretend this didn’t happen?”

  Marshall leans forward, puts his elbows on his desk, places his hands on both sides of his face, and runs his fingers across the sides of his head as he looks down. He holds the position for several seconds.

  “No,” he finally says, and then pauses again. “It’s simply hard to believe Mike could be involved like this. I’ve known Mike for 16 years. He’s been one of the finest detectives to work with.”

  “Commander,” says Juan, “I believe the death of his daughter and then his wife filled him with rage against all drug dealers. I think it finally just consumed him.”

  Marshall does not respond for a few seconds. Finally, he looks at Pennington, “what do you recommend we do Gloria?”

  “Some of it is up to Mike. If he agrees to voluntarily submit to a DNA swab we won’t have to get a warrant. We will probably need to get search warrants for his car and home. We should first sit him down and present what we have and see how he reacts. In the meantime, I can have patrol impound his vehicle and guard his home until we can get the warrants.”

  “Alright then,” Marshall says. “Gloria, you get officers to secure the car and home, then I want you to be lead on interviewing Mike. Juan, are you up to being in on the interview?”

  “Yes, I’d like to be involved.”

  “Trevon, I need you to coordinate securing search warrants for both the car and home.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Cindy, you stand by for potential DNA swabbing. I will go with Juan to bring Mike to one of the interview rooms. I need to hear what he has to say, if anything. Let’s get moving.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Detective Mike Ricci is sitting in interview room number three with Commander Marshall, Sgt. Pennington, and Detective Juan Garcia. The Commander has Ricci leave his service weapon and backup weapon in his desk drawer. Ricci knows something is up.

  “What’s this all about?” asks Ricci.

  Sgt. Pennington begins, “Mike, we have reason to believe you may be involved in the homicide of Dylan Rogers last week.”

  “Now why would you think that?” he responds.

  “Let me read you your rights first. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say…”

  “Stop!” interrupts Ricci. “I know my rights. Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “Okay Mike, we have a DNA test that has matched your DNA to that found at the crime scene last week,” responds Pennington.

  “And just where did you get my DNA?”

  “I got it,” interrupts Garcia, “off your Dunkin Donuts coffee cup from yesterday.”

  “You, my partner?”

  “Yes Mike, just too many coincidences, especially the cut on your hand. I did it hoping to clear you of my suspicions.”

  Ricci stares at Garcia without saying anything more.

  “Mike,” continues Pennington, “we need to swab your mouth for a DNA sample to confirm or not confirm the results of the test from the coffee cup. As you well know, you can voluntarily give us a sample, or we can get a court order. Either way, we will get a swab.”

  Ricci stares down at the table with his head in his right hand. His injured left hand sits in his lap.

  “Mike, we have also impounded your vehicle and sent officers to secure your home. We will be applying for search warrants later today.”

  Ricci finally speaks again, “that won’t be necessary.”

  Commander Marshall then interjects, “why not Mike, what do you mean?”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” says Ricci. “If you promise you will give me one hour in an interview room with my son Chris before taking me to jail, I will give you enough to make your case. I just want some time to explain to Chris why I did what I did. I will also give you consent for my DNA and to search both my car and home. That should save your detectives a lot of time”

  “Deal,” says Marshall, “Now tell us what you did.”

  “I’m not going to go through each of the murders, as I don’t want to relive them,” says Ricci. “However, I admit that yes, I committed all eleven homicides attributed to the Candy Man Killer. My motive was to avenge the death of my daughter and wife, as well as to save more young people from being ravaged by drugs. The knives were my calling card, a warning to all drug dealers; this could happen to you if you don’t change your ways. Remember what I told you Juan? No one wants to be stopped with a bloody knife on them. The last two stabbings did not go as smoothly as previous ones. My cancer is back, and I found as I grew weaker, it was more difficult for me to quickly overcome any resistance. That’s how I got cut in the last one. Had I not gotten cut, you still wouldn’t know who the Candy Man is. I know you won’t agree with me, but I believe by eliminating eleven dealers, I have saved dozens of young people. Is it morally wrong to save people?”

  Ricci continues, “You will find what you are looking for in my garage. There is a metal cabinet along the back wall. It will have the clothing and disguise I wore. You will probably find blood spatter in the creases of the shoes in that cabinet. The clothes were always washed, but you may find something there as well. I used a beard and sometimes fake glasses to hide my identity should anyone see me. I also faked a limp if I thought I might be seen to further confuse investigators. That should give you enough to convict me on anything you want.”

  “Mike,” asked Garcia, “how did you get into people’s homes?”

  “That was rather easy. I would usually spend some time learning about my target's habits and never approached a residence if someone else was in the home. I would simply knock, show them my police identification, and tell them there had been an assault or homicide, or whatever down the street and I was just checking with neighbors. Some
I would tell I was there to remove them from being under suspicion. No one wants to be under suspicion.”

  “And what about the ones in the alleys?”

  “Most of those dealers had late night jobs or did their dealing at night. I would just wait to find them on their way home. I researched my victims. I didn’t just go out and cruise the streets. Much of what I got came from narcotics detectives.”

  “You seemed to focus on African Americans until the last two murders. What changed?”

  “Nothing. This was never about race. It was only about going after predatory drug dealers. The neighborhoods we worked in simply happened to be populated by mostly black residents. I started to expand outside this area once everyone was on high alert. My last dealer happened to be white. From what I had gathered from Narcotics, he was an active dealer in the Hermosa neighborhood and someone who needed to be eliminated.”

  Everyone in the room is astounded at how easily Ricci can describe what he had done. He does not appear to have any remorse.

  “Mike,” Garcia says softly, “you do know you are going to spend the rest of your life in prison, right?”

  “Well, it won’t be for long Juan. My cancer has returned with a vengeance. It’s in my pancreas and liver, and now that my secret is out, I will be forgoing all treatment. I should be dead in 8 months or so.”

  “Knowing that makes things a little clearer,” says Garcia. “I’m sorry for your cancer. I’m also sorry you will only serve a short time in jail. And to think I looked up to you.”

  Ricci doesn’t look at Garcia, he just stares at the floor.

  Cindy Cross enters the room and administers the mouth swabs that will confirm Mike Ricci is the Candy Man Killer. Detective Jackson has prepared written consents to search and has Ricci sign them. Ricci’s son is contacted by Commander Marshall and given the news. It will take Chris Ricci about an hour to get to the station.

  Commander Marshall returns to the room. “Detective Garcia.”

  “Yes sir,” says Garcia.

  “Would you like the pleasure of placing our detective here under arrest for Eleven Counts of First Degree Murder?”

  “Gladly sir.” As Garcia places Ricci in handcuffs, he states, “Mike, you are under arrest for First Degree Murder.”