Saints Of New York

by R.J. Ellory

  Two and three days later pieces of them were still being found thirty yards away.

  EIGHTY-SEVEN

  The first person Frank Parrish spoke to when he came out of surgery was his son. 'Gimme a couple of hours we'll go shoot some hoops,' he said. Robert told him he was full of shit.

  'I met Eve,' he said.

  'Cute, huh?'

  'Way cute. Monster fucking cute. You gonna shack up with her or what?'

  Parrish smiled. His words slurred a little, and he had the glazed eyes of a man jacked on painkillers. 'In another life maybe . . . she has her thing. She is what she is. No-one's going to change her.'

  'She's like you then. Maybe that's why you get on.'

  'Won't be like that for long. They're going to kick me out on my ass.'

  'For what you did?'

  'For what I did.'

  Robert leaned forward and gripped his father's hand. 'I'm gonna drop the engineering—'

  'I figured you might.'

  'You okay with that?'

  'You can do what the hell you like, Robert, you know that.'

  'But Mom—'

  'Tell her to go fuck herself.'

  'She's pissed, Dad, real pissed.'

  'She's always pissed, Robert.'

  'So what the hell happened to her? How come she's like this?'

  'She spent a few years married to me. Enough to ruin anyone for life.'

  'You're so full of shit.'

  'Yeah, I know. I take after my kids.'

  Caitlin came a while later. Frank told her they weren't putting chairs on the tables yet, which she didn't really understand, but she figured it meant that he wasn't ready to die.

  It was dark outside, and she sat beside his bed, and she reached out and took his hand.

  'You want some water or something?' she asked.

  He did not answer her question, but he did say, 'Been a long time since there was anything out in front of me.' He tried to smile, but it just looked like he was hurting more. She told him not to say anything, to close his eyes and go to sleep again, but he shook his head and said, 'Always been a day late and a dollar short. You know that? That's one thing you can rely on as far as Frank Parrish is concerned. I'll be one of those people who stays the same no matter what happens.' He closed his eyes. There were tears on his cheeks and Caitlin brushed them away with the ball of her thumb. 'You think it's come up on you quick,' he said, 'but it hasn't. It's been coming for years, an inch at a time. You don't notice it until it's right there in front of you, and you still think you've got a chance to change it but you haven't—'

  'Dad . . . please . . .'

  Frank Parrish squeezed his daughter's hand. He looked at her intently. 'You think I'm dumb? I'm not dumb, Caitlin. I know what's going on with you and Radick.'

  'I don't think you're dumb, Dad . . .'

  'Make sure he looks after you, okay? He's a good man . . . young, green as grass, but he's a good man.'

  'Dad . . .'

  'Tell Jimmy Radick that if he hurts you I'll kill him . . .'

  Caitlin smiled.

  Frank closed his eyes. He was asleep before she could answer.

  Valderas came the following morning. Parrish asked about Carole Paretski, told him that under no circumstances did he intend to press charges. Under no circumstances. He was somewhere he shouldn't have been, she had every legal right to be present in the McKee house, and he was an intruder.

  'Did they get the stuff in the house?' he asked.

  'Yes, Frank, they got the stuff in the house. And had she not been there none of it would have been admissible.' Valderas shook his head. He sat down on a chair beside Frank's bed. 'Jesus Christ, Frank, I don't know that you could have done anything crazier—'

  Parrish smiled with difficulty. 'Hell, Tony, I was planning on just shooting the guy in the head and being done with it.'

  'Well, it was good you went with Plan B then.'

  'So what happened?'

  'Well, she called 911, obviously. She'd just fucking stabbed you with a screwdriver - your own screwdriver, I might add. By the time they got there you were out of it. They saw the stuff she'd found, they called the PD, and by the time I found out about it you'd gone and she was under arrest. Anyways, I told the guys there what the deal was, and they were waiting for McKee when he got back with the kids. They didn't try and contact him in case he did a runner.'

  'And where are the kids now?'

  'Ironically, they're with Family Welfare. Carole Paretski will get them back today ... we already figured out how you were wrong and she was right. Regardless of whether or not you press charges, there isn't a DA in the country who would take her to court under the circumstances.'

  Parrish smiled, and then he grimaced in pain.

  'You need to rest,' Valderas said.

  'I know, I know, I will,' Parrish replied, and then he looked at Valderas directly and said, 'I'm fucked, aren't I? That's it now. The car, the break-in, everything. It's completely fucked, right?'

  Valderas hesitated, and then he slowly nodded his head. 'Yes, Frank, it's completely fucked.'

  'But you've got McKee, right? You've got him.'

  'For how many things we don't know yet, but yes, we've got him. He was shipped over to us as soon as Haversaw got word of what had happened. The 126th will take the bust.' Valderas smiled sardonically. 'Despite you and your efforts, Frank, we will take the bust. Anyway, McKee opened up like a can of worms. He's making noises about giving up other people who were also involved—'

  'What people?'

  'This outfit called Absolute Films. Some other crew of psychos.

  Links to the West Coast, LA, Vegas as well, I think. He's going to rat them all out for a deal of some sort.'

  'And who gets the murders?'

  'Oh, he'll get the murders, at least two of them. He was the one in a whole bunch of those pictures. The earlier ones we don't know, and right now it looks like there might be a great deal more Missing Persons cases getting resolved. The Danny Lange shooting we don't know about yet, but someone's gonna hang for that one as well. Maybe McKee'll get life instead of the death penalty if he gives everyone up.'

  'It was a bad, bad scene.'

  'And we touched the edges of it, Frank, just the edges of it. The girls you knew about were not the only ones. That's something we're sure of now. And it goes back before Jennifer, most definitely. I mean, shit, the guy worked in Family Welfare for years. He had names, pictures, addresses, phone numbers. He could approach these girls without drawing attention to himself in any way. It was his job to get up close and personal. That's the real thing here, that's the really sad thing about all of this. They already had two strikes against them, and then they ran into Richard McKee.'

  Parrish was quiet for a time. He had so many questions, but the pain was making its way through the wall of painkillers, and he was exhausted.

  'So you're gonna manage to clean up the city without me?' he said eventually.

  'No, Frank, not a fucking prayer. Without you it's all gonna go to hell in a hand basket.'

  Frank Parrish smiled. 'You better believe it,' he said. He closed his eyes for a second.

  'Hang in there, Frank. You got one more visitor. A priest.'

  'Oh for Christ's sake—' he started.

  Father Briley appeared back of Valderas. 'I heard that Frank Parrish, and if you don't stop taking the Lord's name in vain you are going to burn in Hell . . .'

  EIGHTY-EIGHT

  FRIDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2008

  Marie Griffin looked at Frank Parrish for some time before she spoke. The light from the window behind her cast a fine halo through her hair.

  'So this is the end of the line for you.'

  'Seems that way,' Parrish replied.

  'It's hard to imagine that we met less than six weeks ago.'

  'I know, I know. Doesn't it seem so much longer.'

  'Wiseass. Jesus, you don't let up, do you, Frank?'

  He smiled wryly. 'It's just the way I was made
, Marie.'

  'So what did they give you?'

  'They gave me a Congressional Medal of Honor, and they said I should run for Mayor.'

  'Frank—'

  'They didn't prosecute. That's what they gave me. They let me off the hook for all the shit that I did.'

  'But you're out of the PD.'

  'I am.'

  'With nothing?'

  'No, Marie, not with nothing. They gave me sixty-five percent of my pension, and there's a possibility that when I actually reach retirement age they'll give me some more. But hell, I ain't gonna hold 'em to it.'

  'And you didn't blackmail them?'

  'Blackmail them?'

  'Give me everything I want or I'll go to the newspapers about John Parrish, the OCCB, the Saints of New York?'

  Parrish leaned forward. He took something from his jacket pocket and held it in his hand for just a moment. Then hereached forward and put it on her desk.

  'What's that?'

  'Take a look.'

  She reached out and gathered it up.

  'A rosary,' she said.

  'It is.'

  'It has a picture attached to it. This is a little kid . . .' She paused and frowned. 'This is you, right?'

  'It is.'

  'And this came from where?'

  'My father's priest. He and I had a few words before I went into McKee's house. He told me some things about my father. Then he came to visit in the hospital and brought that with him.'

  'And he got it from your father.'

  'It was in my father's hand when the priest gave him the last rites. It was in his hand when he died.'

  'And this priest... he kept it for you?'

  'No, he kept it for himself, but then he thought I would have more use for it.'

  'Does this resolve something for you, Frank?'

  'Maybe. A little. I haven't figured it all out yet.'

  'So you're letting go of him? Of the ghost of John Parrish.'

  'I'm not thinking about him in the same way, if that's what you mean. All this shit happened a long time ago. What was the truth and what wasn't, well, it doesn't mean anything now. Stirring all of that up would simply give people a reason not to be confident in the police department now, and that wouldn't do anyone any good.'

  'That's a very responsible viewpoint to take.'

  'It's common sense, Marie. I don't think it's anything but common sense.'

  'And you?'

  Parrish shook his head. He looked away towards the window and sighed. 'I will just take some time to let things sink in. Was he who I thought he was? Was he someone different? I don't know Marie, I just don't know.'

  'But now you're a civilian.'

  'Yeah, I'm a civilian, just like you.'

  'And how is that?'

  'Weil, I got out of hospital two weeks ago, and most of the last fortnight I've spent answering questions and writing reports about this whole case, so I really don't have a handle on it yet. I'm drinking less because the doctor says I have to ... oh yeah, I also had a stomach ulcer I didn't even know about, but hell, as soon as I'm fixed up I'll be back on a bottle and a half a day.'

  'Whatever you say, Frank.'

  'So you'll have to give me a little while, you know? You'll have to give me six months to find my feet and get oriented.'

  'And where does the case stand now? Wasn't there some question about admissibility of evidence?'

  'They got around that because Carole was there when the evidence was found. She had a key that he'd given her and that gave her legal access to the property.'

  'So they've got McKee, no question.'

  'So far they've got seven of them. They have McKee on first degree for Kelly Duncan, Rebecca Lange and Nicole Benedict. It looks like Melissa Schaeffer, Jennifer Baumann and Karen Pulaski were killed by one or other of his buddies. They also have the guy that shot Danny Lange. McKee just opened his mouth and started talking, and he's a good way from done yet. This thing went back before Melissa, that's for sure, and there were others in between during the last two years as well. They didn't only take girls that went through Family Welfare, they took them from wherever. From what we can work out it was a set-up that already existed before McKee got involved, and when he showed up he just came with another feeder line for the party.'

  'And they were making snuff movies?'

  'They were making everything you could imagine. They catered to every taste you can think of. The sad thing is that they were a relatively small operation, all things considered. There are bigger organizations out there doing worse things and more frequently. I really cannot bear to think how many of our runaways are buried in the Hollywood Hills and the desert outside Vegas. Anyway, they've got seven of them, McKee of course, and then some other guy he hooked up with on the internet, and then there's the people from the film company in LA. McKee is up for three counts of first-degree murder, and then endless counts of accomplice tomurder, kidnapping, rape, pandering ... the whole lunchbox, you know? They've thrown the book at him. But because he gave up everyone else he's gonna get consecutive life-terms instead of the death penalty.'

  'How do you feel about that?'

  'I feel okay. I feel like he should spend one hell of a long time thinking about what he did, and I'm hoping that a three hundred and fifty-pound gang member called Bubba is gonna take a shine to him in the joint.'

  'And what about the fact that this case only scratches the surface?'

  Again Parrish was silent for a time, his expression reflective, I think that's something that we all come to terms with very early on. If you spend your time and attention worrying about all the ones that you didn't get, then you go crazy. You deal with what you've got in front of you, you deal with it the best you can, and you hope that somewhere else there are people who are working as hard as you to make things right. Maybe that's the one thing I've managed to be philosophical about all these years.'

  'And McKee's ex-wife?'

  'She's good, you know? She can't tell me sorry enough. She came to see me in the hospital, and I've seen her a couple of times since I was released. She's a good woman. She's happy to have the asshole out of her life, and now she knows her kids are safe.'

  'He really filmed his own daughter?'

  'Yes, he really filmed his own daughter.'

  'And how are Robert and Caitlin?'

  'Robert thinks I'm a hero, Caitlin thinks I'm going to drink myself into an early grave.'

  'And what do you think?'

  Parrish shrugged his shoulders and smiled. 'I'm forty-four years old. I've been a cop for eighteen years. I don't know anything else.'

  'Maybe you could go into the private sector? Investigator's work, maybe?'

  'I don't think so, no. I'm the sort of person who needs a system and a structure around me otherwise it all falls apart.'

  'Well, for someone who says they need a system and a structure around them, Frank, you spent an awful lot of time defying it, don't you think?'

  'You're not IAD. I don't have to answer that.'

  'So - I hope I'll hear from you. I hope you will let me know what you're doing and how it's going.'

  'You'll forget, Marie. A fortnight from now it won't matter where I am and what I'm doing.'

  'Oh, I don't think so, Frank Parrish. I think you've earned yourself a name.'

  'Well, you know what they say. One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name.'

  'It's been good knowing you. Good talking with you.'

  'And I was never really in therapy was I, Doc? Not for real.'

  'No, Frank, you were never in therapy.'

  'Thanks for your time.'

  'You're welcome.'

  Frank Parrish paused at the door. He turned back and looked at Marie Griffin.

  'All that stuff we spoke about - you know, my father, my marriage, my kids? I think it was good. I think it helped me.'

  'And I think it taught me something, Frank,' Marie Griffin said.

  'And what was that?'
>
  'That even when people do things the wrong way they can still be doing them for the right reasons. And about your father? The truth is that he's dead. Physically, spiritually, emotionally . . . every which way he's dead. And whatever he might have called himself, and whatever people might have thought about him, it's guys like you that are the real Saints of New York.'

  Frank Parrish nodded an acknowledgement. He smiled once more, and then he closed the door ever so gently behind him.

  Table of Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.. 5

  ONE.. 6

  TWO.. 8

  THREE.. 9

  FOUR.. 11

  FIVE.. 12

  SIX.. 13

  SEVEN.. 15

  EIGHT.. 17

  NINE.. 19

  TEN.. 21

  ELEVEN.. 22

  TWELVE.. 24

  THIRTEEN.. 26

  FOURTEEN.. 28

  FIFTEEN.. 29

  SIXTEEN.. 31

  SEVENTEEN.. 33

  EIGHTEEN.. 35

  NINETEEN.. 37

  TWENTY.. 39

  TWENTY-ONE.. 41

  TWENTY-TWO.. 43

  TWENTY-THREE.. 44

  TWENTY-FOUR.. 46

  TWENTY-FIVE.. 49

  TWENTY-SIX.. 51

  TWENTY-SEVEN.. 52

  TWENTY-EIGHT.. 54

  TWENTY-NINE.. 56

  THIRTY.. 58

  THIRTY-ONE.. 60

  THIRTY-TWO.. 62

  THIRTY-THREE.. 64

  THIRTY-FOUR.. 66

  THIRTY-FIVE.. 68

  THIRTY-SIX.. 70

  THIRTY-SEVEN.. 72

  THIRTY-EIGHT.. 75

  THIRTY-NINE.. 76

  FORTY.. 77

  FORTY-ONE.. 79

  FORTY-TWO.. 80

  FORTY-THREE.. 81

  FORTY-FOUR.. 82

  FORTY-FIVE.. 83

  FORTY-SIX.. 84

  FORTY-SEVEN.. 85

  FORTY-EIGHT.. 86

  FORTY-NINE.. 87