Patriot Lies (Jack Widow Book 14)

by Scott Blade

  Tunney said, "They look knocked out. That's why the blood pattern."

  Widow said, "That's what I thought."

  "They could be anyone's. They don't have to be Eggers."

  Widow said, "I found them a few yards away. Removed teeth will last forever, but not blood. The blood is dried on them, but I would guess it's no more than a couple of days old. Maybe three. Possibly four. I wouldn't put the bloodstains older than that. According to the Post article I read, Eggers died the night before last."

  Aker nodded along. He made a disgusted expression as he stared at the teeth.

  Tunney was now on his feet, no longer leaning against the bookshelf. He neared the end of the desk and peered down at the teeth.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stainless steel fountain pen. It looked like the same kind of pen that Widow had seen a thousand times before. Often agents in the NCIS or FBI and other law enforcement agencies had guys who carried nice pens like that. They were often gifts from loved ones or from a boss for a job well done. And often they were engraved.

  This one might've been engraved, but Widow didn't see it.

  Tunney used the pen's tip to separate the teeth from each other. Then he stuck the pen under the remains of the zip tie and lifted it up so they all could see it.

  The plastic was melted a bit and charred. It was definitely snapped in one place, as if it had been cut by a knife or other sharp object.

  Tunney stared at it.

  Aker asked, "What's that?"

  "It's half a zip tie."

  "Zip tie?"

  Widow said, "Eggers couldn't have accidentally lit himself on fire because Eggers was restrained to that bench."

  Tunney looked at Widow, no reaction on his face, no surprise, but Aker stared at him with disbelief in his eyes.

  Aker mumbled, "He was murdered?"

  Widow said, "I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

  Tunney said, "We're going to find out."

  Widow nodded.

  Aker said, "We have to call the police."

  Widow said, "The police have already ruled his death an accident. They completely overlooked this evidence."

  Tunney said, "DC is often the murder capital of the US. Metro is spread thin."

  "That's no excuse."

  "I agree, but I'm just saying they missed it. We should give them the chance to correct their mistake."

  Widow said, "I'm okay with that. Just know that my interests lie in the truth, in justice being served. I'm not going to stand in their way if they want to step up and do the right thing. But I'm not going to hold my breath while they shuffle this off to the back burner."

  Tunney nodded.

  Aker repeated, "We should call them."

  Tunney said, "I'll take Widow over there. We'll bring the evidence and explain the situation."

  Aker paused a beat, and then he asked, "Will they want to put a hold on the inheritance? I mean, won't they want to tell me to stop searching for Maven Eggers until they wrap up whatever investigation they might do?"

  Tunney said, "Doubt it."

  "Won't they see it as a motive? I mean, it is the motive, right? Fifty million dollars?"

  Tunney said, "Might be."

  Widow said, "I'm not so sure."

  "Why?"

  "Because what? Maven Eggers found her homeless father, burned him alive for the inheritance money, and then forgot to make herself known to the world so she couldn't receive it?"

  The two men looked at each other and then at Widow.

  Widow said, "The money is a factor, but if Maven is the direct heir and she had her father killed for the money, then where the hell is she? No. It doesn't add up. She'd be here now, trying to get the money."

  Tunney said, "Unless someone is using her to get the money. Maybe she's hiding out from them."

  Widow said, "Maybe. I'm not saying the money isn't a clue. It's got to be an element in the whole thing. It's too much money for a homeless man to have in stocks and not be tied to his murder. I'm saying that I'm not sure it's the motive."

  Aker asked, "So what do we do?"

  "We look at everything. Where did the money come from? What's the story with it?"

  Tunney added, "We need to go to the cops first. I can take Widow. I got some friends there still."

  Widow said, "For now, I say we keep the circle of people who know what we suspect to a minimum. Because there's one more thing."

  He told them about the black Escalade, about the tinted windows, about seeing it at Eggers' wake and then on the street at Lincoln Park. He told them about the chase it gave.

  Both Tunney and Aker stared at him with a bit of hesitation and a bit of skepticism and a bit of fear that he was telling the truth.

  Widow said, "One more thing. There are traffic cameras along the streets. And there's one in particular that I think might've recorded whatever happened at that bench. Can we get hold of that feed?"

  Tunney said, "I don't see why not. We can certainly make it a condition with some of my buddies in Metro. We can offer them what we got for what they got. They'll go for it."

  Widow said, "Good."

  Aker's face changed to something different. It was excitement.

  Widow could see the wheels in Aker's head turning. He was now seeing this whole thing as a mystery similar to the ones in his Grisham thrillers: A struggling DC lawyer gets a dead client and discovers conspiracy and murder.

  Aker said, "Okay. I guess we go to the police and keep doing our part."

  Tunney said, "Widow and I can keep looking into it. If the cops give us any shit about it, we can just claim it's part of our search for the heir."

  Widow nodded. He didn't care what they called it. He wasn't going to give up or just hand it off to the cops. If actions spoke louder than words, then the MPD had already said enough to him with their lack of actions so far.

  He wasn't going to let a fellow sailor and SEAL's murder roll away unavenged.

  Aker said, "Widow, stick with Tunney. As I told you before, he's licensed in the surrounding states and you're not. So, whatever he says goes. His credentials will get you into places that you otherwise couldn't get into."

  Of course, there weren't many places that Widow couldn't get access to. But he didn't argue.

  Tunney said, "Give him a phone."

  Aker nodded and stepped back from the desk. He dumped himself down in his desk chair, which had wheels. Then he wheeled himself forward just a little. He ducked down and went into the bottom drawer and pulled out a packaged smartphone. It wasn't a name brand, but some kind of cheap knockoff.

  Aker opened the packaging and took out the phone. He had to put in batteries and a SIM card that was in the same package. He set the whole thing up and got onto the phone to follow automated instructions that turned it on. After several long minutes, he was done. He handed the phone to Widow.

  "I programmed my number and Tunney's into the phone. It has internet if you need it. It's all paid for, so don't worry about that."

  Widow took the phone and checked it the same way he would an untested weapon. He clicked the screen on and off button and sifted through the features.

  In the end, he nodded and thanked Aker.

  Widow asked, "Now, that I'm officially a part of your team, I need to know where that money came from? How did Eggers get that investment stock in the first place? What kind of stock is it? Is it one thing?"

  Finance wasn't one of Widow's strong suits. As long as he always had money to get food eat and buy coffee, he never really thought that much about it.

  Aker said, "The stocks all began with one company and grew from there. It's a single stock and pays dividends."

  "To whom?"

  "What?"

  "Who gets the dividends?"

  "Eggers."

  "How? What? Is it all in a bank account somewhere?"

  "No. The dividends are paid out and then reinvested. So now, his portfolio is more diversified."

  "Diversif
ied into other stocks?"

  "Right. But the bulk of the earnings is still from the first stock he bought."

  "If he's been sleeping on the street for more than years, then who does the investing for him?"

  "It's an investment banker at a firm."

  Tunney stepped into the conversation and said, "Can you send us the name of the investment banker, the firm, and the original stock purchase?"

  Aker said, "The stock code is SHG on the New York Stock Exchange."

  Widow asked, "SHG? What does that stand for?"

  Both Aker and Tunney shrugged.

  Aker said, "I've got no idea. Look it up on your phone. I don't play the stocks."

  Widow said, "Follow. Or invest. Or watch."

  "What's that?"

  "You don't play stocks. You invest in stocks. No one plays them."

  "Whatever. I don't invest in stocks. So, I've got no idea what code stands for what."

  Tunney moved on, looked at Widow, and said, "Okay. Let's get going."

  Widow took his new smartphone, forgot to look up SGH, and stood up.

  Tunney said, "Better take the teeth."

  Widow nodded.

  Aker put a hand up to stop him.

  "Hold on."

  He reached into a top drawer and pulled out an open package of tissues and pulled a couple out, handed them to Widow.

  "Probably better to pick that stuff up with these."

  "Thanks," Widow said, and he took the tissues.

  He wrapped the teeth up together in one and then the glass and label in a different one, followed by the zip tie in a final one. He stuffed all of it back into his coat pockets.

  Widow nodded at Aker and followed Tunney out of the office and back down the elevator to the lobby. They exited the building, got into Tunney's BMW, and drove out of the parking lot.

  Fourteen

  Widow and Tunney had a near hour-long car ride again, back to where they came from because DC’s Metro Police Department headquarters was less than two miles from where Eggers had died.

  The two men shared more small talk for some of the drive, but after that Tunney made a phone call and got hold of one of his old cop friends from his FBI days. He told the guy what they had, how it all started, and that they were coming in now. He also asked the guy if he could provide some quid pro quo and share some information back with them.

  Widow listened to the whole phone conversation without a say in the matter because Tunney put the guy over the car’s internal speaker system.

  At the end of the conversation, the guy hung up.

  Widow said, “You didn’t mention the guys following me around this morning?”

  “I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  “Because it makes me sound crazy?”

  “I don’t think it’s relevant.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “We don’t have any proof. So why tell them?”

  “I’m the proof. I told you it happened.”

  Tunney said, “But why tell them? We’re about to drop a bunch of circumstantial evidence on them. No reason to give away the store.”

  Widow stayed quiet and stared out the window at the same route he had seen earlier from Lincoln Park out to Aker’s office, only in reverse this time.

  They rode in silence the rest of the way. Tunney cranked the radio up a little higher and played the same eighties rock station from earlier.

  They finally got off the freeway and drove onto Indiana Avenue. It was apparent that Tunney knew exactly the roads to take and how to get to the Metro Police Department without any help because he knew exactly where to go and where to park.

  Tunney parked the car on the street. They got out and Tunney locked the car with the press of a button.

  They walked a long way over grass and sleet to grand concrete steps with a large mural and past it until they saw a large square.

  DC architecture was quite something to behold. They were surrounded by buildings that looked like they were from ancient Rome, except they had modern attachments such as windows with glass and revolving doors.

  While standing in the square, staring at it all, Widow almost missed Tunney veering off to the right.

  He called back, “This way.”

  Widow turned and followed.

  They entered through glass partitions and stepped into a grand lobby with shiny tiled floors and twenty-foot walls, plastered with accolades, all surrounding a giant American flag posted at the center of one wall.

  The inside didn’t disappoint Widow. All the law enforcement department headquarters in DC were designed more like cathedrals than office buildings.

  They walked through the lobby, passing uniformed cops and pedestrians. Many of them wore suits.

  They arrived at a desk with a line for both checking in and getting information.

  Tunney said, “Let me call my buddy and tell him we’re here. It’ll make this faster.”

  Tunney stepped away and called his old contact.

  A minute later, he was back, smiling.

  “He’ll come to get us.”

  Several minutes after that, a man about the same age as Tunney came walking out from a hallway beyond the information desk and through a security checkpoint. He stepped over to Widow and Tunney. His hand was out for Tunney and he wore a smile on his face.

  “Brigs, you look like shit.”

  Tunney’s friend was a plainclothes detective; that was clear. He had a silver suit jacket with a five-day-worn tie underneath and black pants.

  Tunney had a retirement gut, but not that bad. The detective had it in spades, and he was still on the job.

  Tunney said, “I look like shit? Look at you!”

  The two of them chuckled and shook hands hardily like long-lost brothers reuniting.

  Tunney asked, “How’s Alexus?”

  “She’s good. You should come to the house for dinner one night.”

  “She still have no idea how to cook?”

  “She’s gotten better. I’m still alive.”

  “Barely!”

  The two men continued to shake hands for a minute like it was a game to see who could last the longest, like the staring game.

  In the end, Widow cleared his throat. Tunney pulled away first.

  He said, “Tom, this is Jack Widow. He’s the one who discovered the new evidence.”

  “Widow, this is Tom Kidman.”

  Kidman offered his hand to Widow to shake. Widow took it and shook it, none of which was as hardy as when Kidman and Tunney shook hands.

  Kidman said, “Good to meet you, Jack.”

  “Just Widow. No one calls me Jack. I was Navy for sixteen years. Last names first is a way of life.”

  “Okay, Widow. You can call me Tom, if you like. Or Detective.”

  They stopped shaking hands.

  Kidman looked Widow over from his shoes and then back up to his face because it was easier to go that route than it was to start from his eye level, which was Widow’s chin, and try to scan up and then back down a long track, just to return lost somewhere in the torso.

  Kidman said, “You’re what my grandson would call a big dude.”

  Widow nodded and ignored the comment. Instead, he asked, “Hey, you know what SHG stands for?”

  Kidman’s face looked puzzled.

  “No. What’s it stand for?”

  “No idea. I hoped you’d know.”

  Kidman just shook his head.

  Widow forgot again that he could just Google it.

  Kidman said, “Okay. Let’s go.”

  He turned around and waved for them to follow.

  They followed and stopped at a security station with a step-through metal detector. A uniformed cop stood out in front of the entrance to the metal detector, blocking the way to walk around it. And a second uniformed cop stood on the other side of it, waiting for people to pass through.

  To the right, there was another desk before going through the security station.

&nb
sp; Kidman led them over to the desk first. He got them both visitor passes in laminate hanging from cords.

  “Both of you have to keep these on at all times. Okay?”

  Widow slipped his on over his head and let it drop down so that the word VISITOR was prominently displayed. Tunney did the same.

  Before crossing through the metal detector, Kidman looked at Widow and asked, “You carrying?”

  “No.”

  Then Kidman looked at Tunney.

  Tunney said, “You know I am.”

  Kidman said, “Turn it over.”

  “I have to?”

  “Yeah. Afraid so. Don’t worry. You’ll get it back when you leave.”

  Tunney turned his weapon over to the guard at the desk and signed a document. Widow and Tunney followed Kidman back through the metal detector and past the guards to a set of elevators. They went up one level and through another corridor until they came to a huge bullpen that took up the rest of the floor.

  Widow saw police detectives all over the room. They were on phones, on computers, or talking back and forth to each other.

  Widow liked the sounds of busy cops.

  He smiled, but no one saw it.

  They stopped inside the doorway.

  Kidman turned to Tunney and pointed at a young detective in glasses at a lone desk. He stared at a computer screen.

  “This way,” Kidman said. He led them to the detective hovering over the computer screen and stopped.

  The detective looked up.

  Kidman introduced the young detective as Shaw. He introduced Widow, Tunney, and Shaw to each other.

  Shaw stayed seated but showed that he was paying attention.

  He asked, “You guys got some evidence for me about the homeless man in the park?”

  Widow said, “Eggers was his name.”

  “Right, Eggers. So, what do you have?”

  Tunney took over and told Shaw and Kidman told him everything, minus the black Escalade and Widow’s theory that something more sinister was going on.

  At the end of Tunney’s explanation, Widow took out the tissue papers with the wrapped-up evidence and dumped them down on Shaw’s keyboard, which made him stand up so fast his glasses nearly slipped off his face. They hung at the end of his nose by the time he was on his feet.

  The tissue paper concealing the teeth unraveled first, and the bloody teeth showed up.