“Are we almost done? I’m ready for dessert,” Brien asked, bringing the touching moment to an abrupt end.
“I have a little news, but I want to hear more about the report Sacramento kept hidden,” Frank said. “Have you had a chance to take a closer look at it?”
“Not yet. I can share the photographed pages with you and George. It’s an environmental impact study. Both John Lugo and Leonard Morgan’s names are on the cover page as trustees for the Soaring Hawk Land Development Project. Leonard Morgan owns the company that designed and built the new Soaring Hawk Casino on reservation land in the Mojave Desert. I imagine the project they’re proposing to build is nearby. I’m going to try to track down the original tomorrow, and I intend to review the entire report. Do you want a copy?”
“Yes,” Frank replied.
“Only if it has any bearing on Sacramento Lugo’s murder or the crooked cops,” George added. “I’m not any more interested in the Lugo’s business problems than I am in their personal problems.”
“How about that dessert now?” Brien asked again.
“Why not? I could use a break. This is lots of information for someone who wasn’t with any of you today,” Bernadette added.
“It’s a lot even for someone who was with them for part of the day,” Auntie Agnes added. “Is it always this hard to find out what happened to a young man like my Sacramento?”
“In this case, there’s already more than one man who’s been killed, but it’s not unusual for there to be several suspects and more than one motive for a murder,” George said as he stood. “Especially when it comes to the high-class crooks Jessica always seems to run into in her social circle. They’re good at hiding behind less well-positioned bad guys who do their dirty work for them.”
Is that’s what’s going on? I wondered as my friends scattered while Bernadette, Auntie Agnes, and I went to fetch the dessert. The corrupt “errand boys” must have been doing something like that by using a poor wretch like Louie Jacobs as their fall guy. That letter might have something to do with a reason to get rid of Sacramento and Louie. Who was behind it? What did the Cleaner Man have to do with any of it?
“I’m glad we took a break because… Wow!” I said when I spotted dessert.
14 A Little Progress
“My turn,” Frank said once the oohs and aahs had ended at the sight of chocolate cake. Two chocolate cakes to be more precise. One was a three-layer chocolate-lovers dream, Bernadette’s Spicy Mexican Chocolate Cake. She’d also made a dense, single layer vegan chocolate cake smothered in a glistening fudge frosting. She put that one in front of Peter and handed him a knife. We’d all been served and had achieved a state of chocolate bliss when Frank continued.
“I spoke to Denise Austin and Julio Mendez. They had no trouble giving me a list of names for the boys they interviewed before they were told to shut down the investigation.” Frank gave me and George copies of the list. Most of them seemed familiar, although there were several more names on it than Louie had given me.
“Thanks, Frank. Here’s the list I got from Louie today. I’m sorry I didn’t make copies for you both, but I’ll make another one before you and George leave.”
“If you think I need one. I’m not going to interview them. If they have police records, Frank and his colleagues can figure that out,” George responded, taking a second out from wolfing down his cake. “What else did they have to say about the investigation?”
“Not too much. Denise was more outspoken than Julio was about the fact that they should have done more. Once Louie Jacobs confessed, and his lawyer entered a plea of guilty, it was game over. They both agreed the witnesses described the fight as nothing serious. If anything, Sacramento was angrier than Louie was, so none of them believed Louie would have attacked him later. They were all laughing and joking about the incident when it ended.”
“What about the knife? Had anyone ever seen him carrying a knife?” I asked.
“According to Denise, Louie and Sacramento’s friends laughed at that idea too,” Frank said. “They claimed Louie Jacobs was no hunter and would have been too worried about injuring himself to carry a weapon like that.”
“That’s the Louie Jacobs I know,” Auntie Agnes added. “Sacramento cut himself in the kitchen one day, and Louie almost fainted at the sight of the tiny cut on Sacramento’s thumb.”
“What difference does it make now since you caught that rat Timothy Ridgeway sneaking off with the sheath that went with the knife, and he admitted he stabbed Sacramento?” Tommy asked.
“He kind of backed into what sounded like a confession to us. A skilled lawyer like my old boss, Paul Worthington, would slice and dice Timothy Ridgeway’s confession into little pieces and throw them in the garbage. That’s if the courts allowed it to be presented as evidence since he wasn’t under arrest and hadn’t been read his rights then,” Jerry responded. “The testimony from those of us who heard him might mean something if the court reopened Louie’s case. They could also argue that our testimony was biased because we were advocates for Louie Jacobs before we paid a visit to the crime scene, and that we heard what we wanted to hear.”
“Those are the strategies Paul would have used to defend Louie,” I said. “We did have George with us, and he heard every word Ridgeway uttered. He can hardly be considered biased,” I argued.
“And I’d testify that Ridgeway confessed to stabbing Sacramento Lugo because he believed he was already dead. In fact, he used a brand-new knife to do it, and in the heat of the moment, tossed the sheath away that still had the price tag on it. It wasn’t until later when someone let him know you and Kim planned to visit the crime scene that he suddenly decided he’d better retrieve that sheath. As we suspected, the knife came from a shop in the casino’s mall, but there’s no record of who purchased it. I have a court order for the surveillance footage. If he’s on it, helping himself to a hunting knife, there’s no way Ridgeway’s going to avoid being charged with Sacramento’s murder. Case closed.”
“Autopsy findings would still be more conclusive to sort out this mess, George. We still need to track down the Cleaner Man. Let’s keep at it and see what else turns up when Tommy and Jerry follow up with Sacramento’s friends. This time you have more questions for them about the Cleaner Man, as well as what they know about Timothy Ridgeway and Billy Castro. Find out if any of them know the name of the woman who led to the fight between Louie and Sacramento. I also want to know who else could have gone to John Lugo about the supposed affair she was having with Sacramento.”
“I asked Denise and Julio what the fight was about, and they concluded it was over a woman, but they didn’t have any details. If you get a lead on who she is, someone needs to speak to her.”
“That probably ought to be Jessica if this is about trouble the woman had with a man. I’ll start working on locating the guys on the list when we get home,” Tommy said.
“If Tommy finds current addresses for any of them tonight, we’ll start paying them visits tomorrow,” Jerry added. “I’ll take witness statements from them, and I’ll forward the names of anyone who has something new to add. That way, if the case gets reopened in court, you’ll have an idea of who to call to testify on Louie’s behalf.”
“Thanks, that would be helpful,” I said.
“When we visit the shelters, we’ll also ask about Louie and Gavin Fitzgerald,” Betsy suggested. “Even though Louie doesn’t remember Fitz, maybe someone noticed the same man hanging around both Louie and the dead man you found in the date grove. I’ll see if we can get a name or a description.”
“Wouldn’t that be great?” I asked. “Even if he’s using an alias, it could help us if he’s used it elsewhere.”
“What about Willard Clark?” Brien asked. “Wouldn’t it make sense to ask about him too?”
“Of course, Brien,” Betsy responded, rubbing her head. “I’m not sure why I didn’t say that. Have you identified Willard Clark?”
“There’s a Willard Cla
rk who used to live in subsidized senior housing. He turned up drunk and caused a big scene. It’s not clear yet if he left or they asked him to leave, but he’s been gone for six months. We’ve made a copy of the photo on his California I.D. to show to Xavier Oliver. Here’s another bit of information you can use at the shelters if you regard it as reliable. When I visited Nick today, I asked if he could remember more about what went on at the crime scene. He suddenly recalled that the man who attacked him was around my age or a little younger.”
“That would put him in his late forties or early fifties,” I responded. “For some reason, I imagined him to be younger.”
“Was he a white man or a brown man like you?” Auntie Agnes asked George.
“I don’t know. I tried to get Nick to give me more details, but he just shook his head and said the image was gone.”
“Still, that gives us an added detail. We’ll ask if anyone noticed a middle-aged man speaking to Louie, Gavin Fitzgerald, or Willard Clark,” Betsy added. “I’ve contacted the shelters and have arranged to visit them. Here’s a list of the shelters with addresses, phone numbers, and the name of the contact person at each of the five locations. I’ve also listed the times they serve meals. If you can help in the next few days, let me know.” Laura reached for the sheet of paper, and Peter nodded when Brien gave him a questioning look.
“Go for it, Brien. I can let you leave early any day but Thursday if you want to visit at dinnertime.” The dinnertime idea hit home, and his eyes brightened as he nodded. Then Peter added, “Just so you know, I’m not sharing this cake with you. Sorry friends, but it’s going home with me. I have something I will share with you, though. The lab has made a little progress identifying trace amounts of substances on the samples I sent them from Nick’s clothing.”
“Yay!” Laura exclaimed. “I like the sound of that.”
“The liquid on his shirt that escaped from the hypodermic needle contains several toxic substances used in manufacturing. There were also trace amounts of chloral hydrate and chloroform on the shirt. They’re puzzled by a few odd traces of chemicals that could be derivatives of propellants used in a spray, but it’s not anything they’ve seen before. So maybe he’s created a knockout gas, or maybe chloral hydrate was in the syringe. Chloral hydrate decomposes to form chloroform, so maybe that’s where the chloroform came from.”
“I’m going to have to add a chemistry course to my next quarter at school,” Tommy snickered. “Just kidding.”
“I get why you said it was a little progress, Peter. It’s better than nothing. I take it the toxic substances used in manufacturing could have killed Nick if they’d entered his system,” Frank said.
“Yes, I can give you a list of the substances if you want to look them up,” Peter offered. “You should have them too, George, in case they turn up elsewhere. There’s one that seems worth our attention considering Louie’s physical condition. One of my guys used to be a competitive bodybuilder, and he recognized it. On the street, it’s called DNP. Pay attention, Tommy, because I’m going to add some history to my chemistry lesson.”
“Should I take notes?” he asked in a smart-aleck way.
“If you want to pass the quiz,” Peter quipped. Tommy was caught off guard until several of us laughed.
“Peter got you,” Brien added, although he didn’t get it either until he heard the ripple of laughter. “He does that to me almost every day.” Peter ignored them and went on with his lesson.
“DNP is shorthand for 2,4-dinitrophenol. It’s an industrial chemical that became popular among people wanting to lose weight, including bodybuilders and people with eating disorders. In 1948, Harvard biochemists figured out that DNP disrupts energy generation in cells. Normally, the energy required for driving all the processes that occur in cells comes from the oxidation of fats and carbohydrates in food. In the presence of DNP, fat and carbohydrates in food are broken down, but the production of useful energy for cells is blocked and released as heat. As a result, the body’s reserves of fat and carbohydrates are burned up, resulting in weight loss.” I gasped when I got it.
“Like what’s happened to Louie.”
“Yes, although most people gain the weight back after they quit using DNP, everyone reacts differently. In the 1960s, a Russian-born doctor was translating Russian medical journals for the U.S. government when he stumbled on DNP. The Russians had given it to soldiers to keep them warm during the winter because it raised their body temperature. The main side effect was weight loss. In the early 1980s, the doctor set up weight loss clinics across the southern U.S. and became rich until it became apparent an increase in body temperature and weight loss weren’t the only side effects. Clients began to develop cataracts, skin lesions, many got sick, and some died. Too much DNP can kill you, but how much is too much isn’t clear. A raging fever can result from an overdose.”
“Whoa!” Brien exclaimed. “Are you saying people spontaneously combust?” I was too stunned that he correctly pronounced spontaneously combust to speak up, but I was sure he had to be wrong.
“No, but you’re on the right track,” Peter responded. Brien beamed as if he’d been given a gold star. “Too much DNP can raise your body temperature to the point that you die from hyperthermia.”
“Wow! It cooks you until you’re literally toast!” Tommy exclaimed.
“If you’re trying to compete with Brien for who can say the most outlandish things, please knock it off,” George snapped. “I appreciate the information, Peter. Does it leave traces in the body that can be identified?”
“DNP was used in munitions, to make dye, wood preservatives, and pesticides. Since it’s toxic, there must be tests to make sure those who handle DNP aren’t ingesting it, but I don’t know yet. Maybe Laura can speak to someone at the hospital lab or the M.E.’s office to find out more about tests used to detect its presence in the body.”
“What I need to know is if it can be detected in dead bodies,” George added. “Since someone injected Gavin Fitzgerald with something that killed him, I’d like to see if there are traces of the same stuff the maniac tried to use to kill Nick. If we can link the two cases, that would be more than a little progress. It would also give us something specific to search for if Timothy Ridgeway isn’t lying, and Sacramento Lugo was already dead when he stabbed him. That’s assuming we can exhume Sacramento Lugo’s body.”
“If it’s possible to detect it in blood or tissue, I also want to have Louie tested for it,” I added.
“I’m on it,” Laura responded. “If there is such a test, I’ll visit Peggy Hyndman. Maybe she can interest Louie’s doctor in testing him for traces of DNP without having to get a police order to do it.”
“Thank you. As I told you, Auntie Agnes also helped us find the items Louie left behind in Sacramento’s room. We brought them with us, and as soon as we’re done here, I’ll see if there’s any of the powder or tea Louie said the Cleaner Man gave to him. If the powder or tea contains DNP, we’ve made a direct connection to the Cleaner Man and some of the dangerous substances he’s doling out.”
“Wear gloves when you go through the items—for your protection as well as to avoid contaminating the evidence,” Frank warned. “If you find powder or tea, call George and have him take it from there.”
“Sure. Betsy, a question about powder or ‘tea,’ as Louie calls it, would be worth asking when you’re making the rounds of the shelters and when interviewing Louie’s pals. I’m going to visit the Soaring Hawk Casino tomorrow and have another chat with Sammy Keanu. I’ll ask him about the new issues that have come up today in addition to the questions I have for him about the conversation he had with Billy Castro yesterday.”
“George, there’s a security guard I spoke to at the hospital who thought he heard Billy Castro say something that sounded like blackmail to him. His name is Trevor, and I told him you’d be following up about the incident.”
“The Cat Pack never eases up,” George sighed. “I’ll add blackmail to the
list of motives for murder. I wish we could get our hands on the letter Billy Castro was trying to get his hands on—if it exists.”
“Why else would he have tried to kill Louie?” I asked. “It must have something to do with the letter.”
“Who knows with all the screwy stuff going on.” George stood and sighed. “I’d better get out of here before you all add more tasks for me to do and while I can continue to delude myself that I’m leading this investigation.”
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you in person, Agnes. Thank you for another superb dinner, Bernadette. Good luck, you two lovebirds!”
“I’d better get going too,” Frank said.
“Are you sure you have to leave? It’s not even eight-thirty yet.” I followed Frank as he headed toward the front door.
“Please, Jessica, I’m back on the job now, and I can’t afford to be late during my first week back,” Frank snapped.
“You don’t have to bite my head off. I’m not trying to get you into trouble. I just miss you.” His body relaxed, and he smiled.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled me into the empty great room from the foyer and embraced me. “The kids told me to chill. Evie claims it’s ‘performance anxiety’ now that I’m a ‘real cop’ again. Have you been sharing more of your psychotherapy chatter with her?”
“No, but she told me she wants to be a therapist when she’s older. I guess she’s trying to get a head start by reading about the subject. Evie’s remarkable to be seriously considering career possibilities while she’s barely in her teens.”
“I know. She also told me I shouldn’t be surprised that my mind needs as much time as my body to heal. I did a double-take to remind myself I was speaking to my child.”
“Thirteen, going on thirty,” I muttered.
“Both kids have been through a lot,” Frank said, sighing. “I hope they haven’t had to grow up too fast.”
“There’s no need to worry about that. Your would-be thirty-year-old suggested we get married at Disneyland. There’s still plenty of the child in her. In Frankie too, who thought it wasn’t a bad idea. Then they started squabbling about where in the Magic Kingdom we should have the ceremony.”
A Dead Nephew Page 16