by Randall Dale
“This is delicious, Mrs. Crown.”
“Thank you, Edward. You’re welcome anytime.”
He looked up into the eyes of the father of the house and recognized the nod of agreement. His outward smile hid his feelings, feelings approaching hatred that this stupid, middle-class black family had what he did not.
When everyone finished, Wanda cleared the table, then she and the kids went to the living room to watch TV leaving the boy and his mentor alone at the table. Edward opened his laptop and slid it to Demetrius. The big man read with an occasional hmmm or cluck of his tongue. When finished, he glanced toward Edward with a grin.
“I don’t know why you thought you needed me to read this. It’s excellent. You captured the subject and presented your case very well. If you are serious about wanting to be a detective, I think you’d make a good one.”
Edward smiled at the praise and took the laptop as Demetrius passed it over. He closed it then leaned back in the chair, inwardly anxious to get to the real reason he’d wanted to come by tonight.
“Speaking of detective work, are there any developments in the Smallwood case?”
Demetrius also leaned back, rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands, then with a happy expression on his face, folded his arms. “There’s a kid, sharp as a tack, who works in forensics. He got to studying the footprints and determined the actual shoe size of the murderer to be an eight or nine instead of eleven or twelve like we first thought. He explained how he did it using the depth of the prints and distribution of the guy’s weight. Pretty dang brilliant if you ask me.”
Edward inadvertently swallowed hard before using every ounce of self-control to appear interested and happy with the development. Subconsciously he slid his feet under his chair.
“That’s interesting,” he heard himself say, but he felt like he was a million miles away. He shook his head, then sat up in the chair, leaned his arms on the table and focused on the big detective. “So, do you have any suspects now?” He hoped he sounded interested even though he reeled at the news.
“Nobody in particular, but every day we get closer. We checked on most of the phone numbers but haven’t found any hard evidence there yet, but there are a couple of numbers we’re still working on.” He thought for a moment. “And we have an eye witness in the man who sold the gun to the murderer.” He nodded and smiled a determined smile. “We’ll get him. Sooner or later, we’ll get him.”
Small talk followed until Edward made excuses to leave. He was escorted to the door by the entire family.
Wanda leaned from the porch “Goodbye, come again.”
Edward waved over his back as he walked across the lawn to the street. He started his car and eased into the night breathing deeply. Everything was still okay, but it could get scary. He licked his lips at the thought of Demetrius’s comment. “We’ll get him. Sooner or later, we’ll get him.”
The further into the drive, the more relaxed he became. Demetrius had sounded so positive, but in reality, Edward realized, there was nothing even remotely pointing his direction any more than at least a hundred other under-six-feet males with average sized feet who were in one of the professor’s classes. Still, it might be time to try to keep them looking at a completely different trail. He knew, well, at least he suspected, that Demetrius had talked to William, so maybe that would be the best place to start. By the time he arrived at his he had a plan and would start tonight.
Chapter 19
As is the case with weekends the world over, this weekend came and went much too quickly. Monday morning brought a slow-moving storm with a steady drizzle as Demetrius hurried through the rain to the small restaurant for his Monday morning meeting with Marcus and Edward. As usual, he was there ahead of the students so he took a seat and ordered coffee. Within seconds, Marcus strolled to his side and threw a worn backpack onto the seat, then climbed in with a pleasant greeting.
Demetrius smiled as he eyed the young man and enjoyed the returned expression of satisfaction. He could see the boy wanted to tell him something.
“Whatcha got?”
The grin expanded. “Finals are next week and I’m going into them with solid As and Bs in every subject.”
“Good for you. You keep at it and before you know it, you’ll be a college graduate.”
He studied Marcus with an almost fatherly pride. Here was a young man who had contemplated dropping out but was now finishing the semester because of the help offered initially by Dr. Smallwood and continued by him. An instant melancholy washed over the detective at the thought of his mentor, and that sadness strengthened his resolve to help these young men.
Suddenly Edward stood at the side of the booth accompanied by a waitress. Marcus pushed his backpack to the floor under the table and slid to the wall. “Hi.”
Edward sat. “Hi, guys.”
“Morning.” Demetrius nodded to the newcomer then focused on the waitress as she placed a cup of coffee on the table before reaching for the order pad and a pen in her apron.
He pulled the cup closer. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned to the boys. “What can I get y’all?”
She left after taking their orders. “Be back right quick.”
Demetrius took a sip while looking at Edward over the rim of his cup. He replaced the cup and smiled. “So, Edward. Marcus was just telling me he’s going into finals next week with high scores. How about you?”
The boy leaned back with folded arms. “Straight As.”
Demetrius nodded proudly. “That’s what I like to hear.” He looked from one to the other. “Everything else good?”
They both nodded.
“That’s great to hear. I’d like to ask a favor if you can work it into your schedules. Dr. Smallwood’s widow would like to have some work done in their garden. Nothing difficult, just pulling some of the dead plants out and trimming some bushes. My family is going over today after school and I’d like to invite you both.”
The boys looked at each other. Marcus grinned. “I can do that. What time?”
Demetrius smiled at the answer. “How about five o’clock?”
Marcus nodded but Edward frowned.
“Can’t make it. Sorry.”
“Not a problem. Just wanted you to know you were welcome.” Demetrius traced the patterns on the tabletop with a thick finger. At length he gazed across the table. “You’re good boys. Keep up the good work and if there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.”
They finished their breakfasts with friendly banter. After separating at the door, the boys strolled down the wet sidewalk towards campus while Demetrius walked to his car, starting it and pulling onto the street. In the stop and go rush hour traffic, he absently hummed in steady rhythm to the windshield wipers as the moved back and forth. Clunk, squeak, clunk, squeak.
At the Violent Crimes Division building in downtown Tucson, he chatted for a moment with other detectives and a few uniformed officers. They talked of the weekend games, local politics, of the rain and other trivial things. With a wave, he moved toward his office. He worked with a great bunch of guys. But his cheerful attitude changed drastically when he stepped into the office to see the Lieutenant standing by the desk with a sour expression.
It frustrated Demetrius that the arrogant man would even show his face on an otherwise pleasant Monday morning. He usually stayed in his office and only had time to schmooze with the mayor or the Chief.
Demetrius focused on trying to remain calm and keep his face impassive. He stepped around his boss to take his seat behind the desk. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”
There were no pleasantries and the man remained standing. “I want an update on the murder cases. It doesn’t look like you’ve done anything at all.” He frowned and leaned forward with his hands on the desk.
The big man fought the instant urge to jerk on the boss’s tie again as it dangled only two feet away. He was sure it would feel good, but it wouldn’t be worth losing his job. It had been close a
couple of years earlier, but he knew another insubordination citation in his file would be the end for him.
“Nothing concrete, but we’re getting a better picture of what the murderer might look like. We know he was probably under six feet tall, not particularly broad and his shoe size is an eight or nine.” He leaned back in his chair. The tie was becoming much too tempting.
The Lieutenant stood with a furious expression as he mockingly repeated the words, “Shoe size is an eight or nine.” He leaned forward again. “What are you going to do, have a lineup to look at the suspect’s feet?”
Demetrius bit his lip and shook his head. He decided on a conversational approach because nothing would be gained by arguing with a man whose skill set consisted only of patronizing anyone in authority.
“You are a detective too. You know these things take time. We’ll get there. Dan and I are on it.”
The soft tone did little to mollify the small man. There was acid in his eyes and venom in his voice. “You’d better be. I want this case solved and the murderer in jail. You hear me?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but rotated on his feet and marched out the door, almost running into Dan as he approached. “Get outta my way!”
◆◆◆
Over the course of the semester, Edward had occupied the same front-row seat for every one of Dr. Milligan’s classes. Typically William was the closest student sitting three seats down with his backpack in the empty chair to his left, two seats away from Edward.
The challenge was how to get close enough to drop the thing into one of the empty pockets in the backpack. Edward, almost always one of the first in the classroom, was deliberately late that morning. Because of his nature, the loitering on the steps of the big building had been stressful and he checked his watch every fifteen seconds. At last it was one minute before nine. He rushed into the classroom, feigning exasperation, and sat in the chair next to William’s backpack. His planning and acting worked to perfection. No one seemed to notice he was not in his typical seat.
The lecture was, as always, marginally interesting, but Edward only pretended to be listening. At every opportunity, he studied the backpack in the adjacent chair. On the side was an apparently unused, tightly-knit mesh pocket. It would be perfect to serve Edward’s design. He looked at the clock on the wall. Any minute now the professor would dismiss the class.
With care he reached into his coat pocket to hold the bullet he had so gingerly retrieved from the Glock’s clip earlier that morning before the breakfast meeting with Demetrius. He’d been careful not to touch it with his own fingers and was also vigilant not to rub off any of the tall man’s prints—which he hoped were still there.
He felt the bullet, pinching it at the nose and base with his Band-Aid covered thumb and index finger. He’d applied the Band-Aids for the very purpose of keeping his prints from accidentally finding their way onto the casing. If anyone asked, a simple explanation about a cut finger and thumb would be readily accepted. He slowly extracted the bullet and hid it in folded arms.
“See you on Wednesday.” The professor waved nonchalantly then turned to wipe his writing from the dry-erase board.
Edward stood and followed William to the back of the room. As per usual, the students were crowded tightly as everyone wanted to hurry out of the classroom. Slipping the bullet into the pocket was easier than Edward had hoped. Once out of the classroom, he held back and watched as the young man strolled into the hall and out of the building. Now it was a wait and see game.
He thought of Demetrius. The man was smart, he’d give him that, but not smart enough. Occasional false clues like this and the guy wouldn’t be able to tell fact from fiction.
Edward strolled out of the building onto the wet and glistening sidewalk. The rain had stopped and it was a beautiful day, more like the San Diego weather he enjoyed so much. At the thought of his hometown, he pictured his family. His dad, overweight and self-absorbed, and his mom, worried more about what was happening at the tennis club than her own son. He frowned and shook his head. What would they say if they knew what he’d done? The ever increasing feeling of power returned. They probably wouldn’t even care.
◆◆◆
Mrs. Smallwood strolled arm in arm down the concrete paths in the garden with Demetrius on one side and Wanda on the other. Adam, Chalice and Tina came next with Marcus following behind. Occasionally she stopped and pointed to a planter box with dead or dying plants to be pulled. In actuality, there was little to do and the group finished the task in short order. The entire project only took thirty minutes, then everyone sat on the ledge in the lingering light drinking sodas brought out of the house by Lucinda.
The new widow rubbed her hands on the bricks. “Thanks so much for coming.” She held her hand for Demetrius.
He took it lovingly. “I’m glad we could.” He then thought of the promise he’d made to Carl about taking care of her. “I apologize I haven’t been better about checking on you.”
“Nonsense. One of you calls or stops by at least two times a week. I’m fine. Really.” She turned to Marcus, obviously wanting to change the direction of the conversation. “So, Marcus, tell me about yourself.”
He shrugged. “Not much to tell. I was fixing to quit school when your husband convinced me how important it was to get a diploma. He volunteered to help and I accepted.” He paused and studied his feet. “I was sure sorry about what happened to him.”
She reached and patted him on the knee. “I’m glad you’ve decided to continue.” She focused on Demetrius. “And I’m glad Demetrius is taking over. He’s a good man and you can learn a lot from him.”
◆◆◆
Demetrius and Wanda sat in their king-sized bed with the blanket pulled to their waists and their backs against the headboard. It was the first time they’d been alone all day. He had his arms folded over his bare chest recounting the altercation he’d had with the Lieutenant.
“I’m telling you it was all I could do to keep from pinching his puny little head off. The pip-squeak couldn’t find a peanut in a paper sack.”
She patted his knee. “I’m proud of you for showing such restraint. You’re a good man and a good detective. Something will turn up. You’ll catch the guy.”
“I sure hope so, but to be honest, all we have is a poor description fitting half the college students in Tucson.” He paused and glanced at her. “But at least we know the guy’s shoe size.” He shrugged and grinned in exasperation.
◆◆◆
Demetrius reviewed all the information they had for what seemed to be the hundredth time. The more he looked at it, the more it confirmed the truth of what he’d told Wanda the evening before. They knew the murder weapon as a nine-millimeter Glock. Stretch had confirmed that. They knew it was an under six-foot male less than one-hundred-seventy-five pounds and he was probably under twenty years old. Not much to go on when you got right down to it. At least nothing to take to the bank.
Dan poked his head into the office. “Hey, dude. Want to get some lunch at the diner?” He raised his eyebrows in anticipation, causing Demetrius to chuckle.
“How about we hit Whataburger down the street?” He chuckled louder at the look of disappointment on the younger man’s face.
Both men looked up at the tapping on the door jamb. “Excuse me, Detective Crown.” It was one of the ladies who worked in Records. “This just got sent over from the mailroom. It was delivered to Main this morning and they had it sent right over. The Deputy Lieutenant said to bring it to you on the double.”
Demetrius stood as she stepped into the office and handed him the envelope. At the touch, his shoulders tingled. An involuntary grin came to his face. “Thank you very much.”
It had already been sliced open so he hurriedly extracted the single, folded paper. He read aloud from the double-spaced, typed letter. “Dear Tucson Police. I know who killed Dr. Smallwood. His name is William. I’m in the same meteorology class at ten on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I saw
a gun in his backpack. I’m sure he didn’t mean for me to see it. I also heard him bragging to a classmate that he was going to take care of Smallwood.”
There was no signature. Demetrius glanced at his partner, the tingle increased.
He thought of his interview with the student named William, the one Edward said had argued with the professor. He remembered his visit with the boy and the feeling there was nothing more.
“The kid I went to talk to last week was named William. We need to talk to him again.” He searched through the papers on his desk for the class schedule and picture he’d been given by Officer Crowley at the University. “Here it is.” He waved the paper to his partner, then studied it.
“Yep, ten on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. That’s the class. He does have a Biology lab from one till three on Tuesdays.” He unclipped the phone and saw the time was just after twelve. If he left right away he could catch the boy before the lab was over. “I’ll call the University PD.” He winked at Dan. “No lunch at the diner for you today.”
Chapter 20
The clock read one-thirty when they were ushered into the University Police Chief’s on-campus office. He smiled and waved toward two seats across his desk as they entered. They introduced themselves and shook hands before accepting the invitation to sit.
Demetrius outlined the case and explained that he’d already had one interview with the student named William. He passed over the schedule and picture he’d been given. “Because of new evidence, this is more than a casual interview. With your assistance, we’d like to search his backpack, and since it’s under your jurisdiction, we’ll stay in the background if that’s what you’d like.”
The Chief smiled. “I got an earful from officer Crowley the other day. I appreciate your sensitivity. If it’s all the same to you, would it be okay if he takes the lead?”
Demetrius grinned at the man’s diplomacy. “As long as we can be there, that’s fine with us.”