Lethal Invitation

by Randall Dale

  Demetrius glanced at the clock hanging above the visitor’s head. It read eleven-fifty-five. He leaned across Wanda, reaching for the remote control on the lampstand.

  The screen showed the front steps of the Violent Crimes Division office building. A podium was set up under the balcony and several members of the local press were seated to the front in the glaring noonday sun. Several held their writing tablets over their eyes to block the intense rays, others used their hands and still others simply looked down at the brownish sidewalk.

  The mayor stepped to the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press. It is with a great sense of relief that I present to you our Chief of Police, Reginald Cruthers for this announcement.”

  The Chief stepped crisply to the podium, his blue uniform immaculately pressed and the gold buttons polished beyond newness. He raised the microphone closer to his lips, then cleared his throat and nodded to the press corps.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. The hard work of the Tucson Police Department has paid off. As you know, during the past three months Tucson recorded three separate murders all committed by the same person. I’m proud to announce that the man will murder no more.

  “Our detectives have worked tirelessly during this stressful time. They interviewed countless individuals, investigated every possibility and ran down every lead. I’m extremely proud of them and the entire police force.

  “It was a trying time for our fair city and we are all glad it has come to an end. Thank you.”

  One of the TV anchors jumped from his seat. “We were informed a month ago that the killer had been caught and it turned out to be inaccurate. How do you know this is the guy?”

  The Chief smiled, comfortable. “His DNA matches the DNA from one of the murders. We’re sure he’s the one.”

  Questions were being hurled all at once. The Chief held up his hands and waited for quiet. He chose a man in a suit in the front row.

  “There was a dead body brought in last night. Is that the murderer or another victim?”

  Demetrius frowned at the question. There had been at least two reporters at the scene the evening before. They had followed the squad cars, asking questions of everyone they could. Demetrius only spoke to one uniformed officer and refused to answer any questions from anyone else.

  The Chief nodded. “The dead man was the murderer. That has been confirmed.” He pointed to a woman on the front row. The camera zoomed in on her and Demetrius could see it was a reporter for the Arizona Daily Star. She had been very uncomplimentary toward the Department and had written several scathing articles detailing what she felt were unsatisfactory practices.

  “How did he die? Was he killed by the police?”

  Demetrius was amazed at the Chief’s composure. He had to know who the woman was, yet he showed no emotion.

  “He died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.” The Chief acknowledged another reporter.

  “There is a rumor one of your detectives was at the scene. Can you expound on that?”

  The Chief displayed the tiniest frown. “There was a detective on site to make an arrest. Unfortunately, the suspect turned the gun on himself.” He waved. “That will be all for now. Thank you for your attendance.”

  The reporters jumped from their chairs for more questions but the Chief turned and disappeared through the double glass doors of the building.

  Demetrius clicked the remote’s off button. “He did well.”

  Dan stood. “Yes, he did.” He looked toward the front door and started heading that way. “It’s good to have this one finished. The kid must have had some mental issues to do what he did.”

  Demetrius only nodded, tight-lipped and grim-faced as he watched his partner walk out the door.

  Chapter 27

  Demetrius spent Thursday, Friday and the weekend keeping Wanda company. She reluctantly agreed to go out to eat Saturday night and as the days went by she slowly began to show signs of returning to normal, but it was obvious it would take time. She was somber, and though not yet up to par, at least did well enough to agree to stay home by herself to allow Demetrius to return to work the following week.

  On a rainy and blustery Monday morning, the big detective, carrying an umbrella, strolled up the steps of the block building. Several other detectives welcomed him in then followed him into his office. “I’m glad everything turned out all right,” mentioned one. “Good work,” another added, while a third simply clapped him tenderly on the back with a nod and a compassionate expression.

  He placed the collapsed umbrella into the garbage can at the side of his desk so the water droplets wouldn’t get on the carpet. “Thanks, guys. It was pretty scary there for a while but thankfully it all turned out good.”

  One by one they streamed out of his office leaving him alone. His thoughts turned to Edward, and he frowned. Of all the people he could have brought into his home and into his confidence, he’d chosen the boy who had killed his best friend. He grimaced at the thought. And the professor’s only crime? Wanting the boy to be better and inviting him to accept direction. That invitation had been, on Dr. Smallwood’s part, a lethal invitation.

  His thoughts turned to Wanda. Edward could have killed her. He shivered at the thought and felt sick to his stomach. How could he have been so stupid? Never again! He reaffirmed for the hundredth time since Tuesday night that he wasn’t going to open himself up like that again.

  He noticed a shadow at his door. One of the receptionists peered in with a worried look.

  “Hi, Gladys.”

  “Uh… The Lieutenant wants to see you in the conference room.” She left like a scared mouse after delivering the message.

  He sat in his chair for a moment rubbing his thumbs on the smooth leather of the armrests. He wished for a moment he’d asked for another vacation day. He didn’t know what the Lieutenant wanted, but it couldn’t be good.

  Maybe it had something to do with him leaving his department issue gun on the railroad tracks. He flicked a piece of lint from his trousers and the corners of his mouth turned down. Shucks, at that point the gun was the least of his concerns. He looked at the ceiling and sucked air into the side of his mouth. It could be something else, maybe someone had reported his reckless driving of that horrific night. It was a hopeful thought and he knew it. In his gut he knew it was worse, much worse. The interview with the Lieutenant was almost certainly about something more serious than reckless driving or forgetting a gun. He slapped both hands on the armrests and pushed up from the chair.

  “Might as well get it over with.”

  He took a moment to make sure his tie was straight, then he tugged at the lapels of his jacket so it rested properly over his ample shoulders. With head down and a determined gait, he marched to the conference room.

  The door was open and the Lieutenant sat stoically at the end of the long, wooden table. Demetrius entered, closed the door and took a seat about half-way down. He sat stiffly erect before swiveling his chair to face his boss.

  The Lieutenant glared over half-moon reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. There were no greetings, no words of welcome and certainly no congratulations for solving the case. He shuffled some papers in his hands, tapping them lightly against the wood to make sure they were perfectly aligned. He placed them carefully on the table then folded his glasses and inserted them into the vest pocket of his suit coat.

  “Detective Crown.”

  Demetrius studied the man. The tone of voice told him right away the talk wouldn’t be about reckless driving or even about a temporarily missing pistol. He kept his face impassive and prepared for bad news.

  But the news was even worse than he’d expected.

  “It has been brought to my attention that the killer was a personal friend of yours. Is that correct?”

  Demetrius sighed and glanced away. “Yes. That’s correct.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The Lieutenant shook his head condescendingly. “I’m also told you confided in him the details of
your investigation. Tell me that is not true.”

  Demetrius didn’t answer for a time. He wasn’t surprised the Lieutenant had learned about Edward. His fellow detectives were smart and obviously put two and two together. Edward had visited the building less than a month earlier and Demetrius had been the one to show him around and make introductions. He had a hard time believing that any of his co-workers might have gone to the Lieutenant with the news. More than likely, it had been a topic of bullpen conversation and the administrator got wind of it.

  Demetrius repressed the urge to lick his lips. He wanted to get his words exactly right. “I was asked to be a mentor for the boy. He said he wanted to be a detective and was interested in the case.” He looked directly into the smaller man’s eyes. “I will admit we discussed developments, but I never gave him any sensitive or usable information.”

  The Lieutenant was beyond hearing anything Demetrius had to say. He raised his voice. “So you admit to helping him stay one step ahead of you. How stupid could you be?”

  With effort, Demetrius held his temper. Arguing was pointless so he decided to keep quiet through the tirade, and his silence seemed to make his boss even angrier. The man stood and spat and sputtered while waving his arms and stomping his feet.

  After a time the Lieutenant stopped and tried to regain his composure. His breathing returned to something resembling normal as he took his seat, but he continued to glare. At last he swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m writing you up with a recommendation for dismissal. As of now you’re on administrative leave. You’ll be hearing from the Chief.” He got up and stormed out of the room.

  The weight was heavy on the big detective’s shoulders as he sat and contemplated the department’s next steps. He rested his head in his hands and massaged his temples, trying to reduce the growing, throbbing pain. He wondered if the Lieutenant was right. Had innocent people been murdered because he was too close to Edward? Had he been blinded by his good intentions?

  He stood and rolled his neck from side to side to relieve some tension. As he stepped into the hall he looked both directions. What should he do now? Was he really on suspension or was that an idle threat?

  No, he decided, it wasn’t an idle threat. He worked to keep his head up and shoulders erect as he hesitantly walked to the Deputy Lieutenant’s office. He shuffled in and could tell by the secretary’s expression that the word was already out. She shrugged and reached for the phone on her desk.

  She pushed a button then waited for only an instant. “Detective Crown to see you.” She replaced the phone then gave him a sad nod.

  He smiled weakly, the reality of what was happening slowly coming into focus. In three steps he was into the plush corner office. He’d been there several times before for various, meaningless reasons. He could remember sizing it up and wondering if someday he might get promoted to that office. No chance of that now.

  The Deputy stood as he entered. “Hello, Demetrius. I’m sorry to hear about this but I’m sure it will all blow over. You’re one of our best detectives. Give him a few days to cool down and everything will be all right.”

  The big man nodded before unclipping his leather case from his belt. He flipped it open for the Deputy to see the badge, then placed it on the mahogany desk. Next, he took the Glock from his shoulder holster. Without ceremony, he released the clip and set it on the table then ejected the chambered round. It bounced loudly on the desk then rolled to the clip with a surprisingly loud clink. With a nod, Demetrius placed the gun carefully on the desk.

  He took a step back. “Anything else?”

  The Deputy walked around the desk and extended his hand for a shake. “It’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

  But Demetrius thought of the expression on the Lieutenant’s face only fifteen minutes before and knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

  Word traveled fast in the office. The halls were eerily silent and detectives, secretaries and clerks were the busiest he’d ever seen them. There was no gathering at the water fountain nor any pleasant banter between co-workers. Demetrius trudged to his small office, took the umbrella from the wastebasket, then with one last look around, turned to lumber down the hall and through the big, double glass doors.

  The drive home was painfully short. He stopped the car as the foam ball touched the windshield and growled as he squeezed from the car into the cramped garage. He viciously slammed the door and fought the urge to throw the offending junk out the big, open door. With gritted teeth he swallowed hard, then took a deep breath while thinking about Wanda. She didn’t need any more stress. He rolled his head from side to side and tried to relax his shoulders, but it didn’t work. The door into the kitchen loomed ahead and as he climbed the steps he dreaded the prospect of having to tell her of the suspension and likely dismissal. He stroked his brow and rubbed his temples, then, after a deep breath, reached for the doorknob.

  She screamed as the door pushed inward from the garage. She’d been sitting on a tall kitchen chair at the breakfast bar. Her eyes were wide with terror until she recognized him.

  He rushed to her side to hold her. “I’m sorry. I should have let you know I was home.”

  She shook uncontrollably and wrapped her arms around his neck to whimper into his shoulder. He picked her up and carried her to the couch. They sat for several minutes holding each other.

  She pushed away, then leaned and touched him on the cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  He tenderly wiped the tears from under her eyes and studied her face. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  She lovingly held his hand to her cheek. “Why are you home?”

  He shoulders sagged. “Bad news, I’m afraid. The Lieutenant thinks that because Edward was a friend I kept him aware of developments in the case.”

  She frowned. For a long moment they looked into each other’s eyes. He rubbed her thumb as they clasped hands and he wondered again if it was the truth.

  “So what now?”

  He sighed, hating to say the words. “I’m on suspension and might get fired.”

  ◆◆◆

  The clock on the wall read ten minutes till three. Demetrius had thumbed through the magazines on the coffee table for the eighth time. He was going stir-crazy. “Can we go for a drive or something? I’m about to go nuts.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She had been trying to stay busy in the kitchen just to pass the time. She had dinner ready for when the kids got home and two batches of oatmeal-raisin cookies cooled on racks on the counter. “How about we take some cookies over to Lucinda?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  The sky was dark and gray as Demetrius carried a plate full of cookies in one hand and an umbrella in the other. Wanda held tightly to his arm as they huddled close and walked to the door of the Smallwood house on the north side of town.

  Lucinda welcomed them each with a hug. “Thanks so much for stopping by, but you didn’t need to bring anything.” She accepted the plate and invited them to sit. A full minute passed with no one speaking. The mood was somber for all. Lucinda tucked her legs under her on the couch then smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. “I saw the press conference and read the stories in the paper.”

  Demetrius nodded. He wondered if she knew who the killer was. Not just the name because by now everyone in Tucson knew the name of Edward Mitchell, but did she know the boy had been one of the professor’s chosen ones?

  Lucinda cocked her head. “So, who was he anyway, and what did he have to do with Carl?”

  The big detective rubbed the leather on the couch arm and sucked air into the side of his mouth. He realized what he’d done when Wanda touched him on the knee. “He was one of Carl’s students.”

  The widow watched him silently, urging him to continue.

  A close-growing shrub scratched eerily against a window in the rain and wind as they sat in the comfortable warmth of the house. Demetrius shivered involuntarily. He looked into the eyes of the woman who was as much a mother to him as Carl
had been a father. It was evident she knew nothing about Edward. He debated for an instant, but decided to tell her everything. It took fifteen minutes but he told it all, how the boy had been on the professor’s list but had declined, how Demetrius and Edward had gotten acquainted and the accepted offer of mentoring. As he told it, he shook his head. How could he have been so stupid?

  He watched Lucinda’s face take on an expression of horror as he detailed Wanda’s ordeal and about the boy turning the gun on himself. The expression turned to sadness and even anger at the news of Demetrius’s suspension and possible dismissal.

  He shifted on the couch, then folded his arms tightly across his chest. “I’ll never mentor another boy again. I’ll never let someone in like I did him. Never.”

  Lucinda’s eyes were moist. She stood with a motion for them to stand also. She wrapped one arm around each of their necks and hugged them. “I’m so sorry this happened to you and I’m thankful you’re both okay.” She patted him tenderly on his shoulder. “Things have a way of working out. You’ll see, everything will be okay. Just have faith.”

  Chapter 28

  The house was quiet with only the occasional noise from the kitchen where Wanda busily got lunch ready for her husband while he hunched over the keyboard staring at the small monitor on top of the desk. He’d been searching websites for detective jobs for which he might apply. He’d had no word from the department, but he knew some type of communication would come any day. These things happened rarely but everyone knew the process. The first step after suspension was a preliminary hearing. No, not really a hearing, more of a meeting in which he would get a chance to explain his actions to at least two of his peers. Unfortunately, the Lieutenant was the person responsible for calling and being in charge of the meeting. Demetrius frowned at the thought. With the pompous jerk in charge, it would be nothing more than a technicality with an immediate escalation to the next level, a hearing before the Standards Board.