Once In, Never Out

by Dan Mahoney

  “Maybe, but what about these other two?” Hunt asked, pointing to the crime scene photos of Winthrop and Meaghan. “Why would he kill them like that?”

  “I have a few crazy ideas, but before talking about that I’ll wait to hear what Vernon has to say. For now, let’s just stick to you and Mullen.”

  “Okay, what do you want to know?”

  “Anything else you think I’d find interesting.”

  “At this point, I’d guess that’s almost everything I know about him,” Hunt said.

  McKenna took his notepad and pen from his pocket. “I’m listening.”

  “First of all, he wasn’t just my partner. Once I got to know him, he became my best friend.”

  “What was there that you liked about him?”

  “Until he was arrested, almost everything. He was smart as a whip, hardworking, fun to be with, tough as nails, and absolutely fearless when it came to bombs. He was the star of the squad, knew more about taking bombs apart than anybody else. He was also loyal to his friends. You never had to worry about getting into trouble if you were working with Mullen, if you know what I mean.”

  “You mean if you broke a few rules, he’d stand by you if the bosses found out and put the heat on you.”

  “Exactly. He’d lie with a straight face and go to the wall with you. His motto was, United we stand, united we fall.”

  “Was he a family man?”

  “The best, until the troubles started with Kathleen. Even after that, he still loved her and he lived for his two boys.”

  “The troubles? Would that be in 1990?” McKenna asked.

  “No, it began sometime in eighty-eight, after Kathleen got out of college and went to work. Continued right up to his arrest, might even be the cause of it.”

  “You know what the troubles were?”

  “I’ve got his version and I still halfway believe it, but there’s probably more to it than that.”

  “Okay, give me his version,” McKenna said.

  “Mullen worked like a dog putting Kathleen through college. You know, watching the kids while she was in school or studying, doing all the housework and most of the cooking, besides working a second job when he was on vacation to pay for baby-sitters and tuition. With his help, she did great in school, majored in architecture. Graduated tops in her class at Fordham and landed a big job with a firm in Midtown. Before long she was making more money than Mullen and, according to him, that’s when she no longer had any use for him. He thought she was running around on him at the office and it broke his heart.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t think Kathleen would have done that to him. She’s got too much character for that.”

  “So what was it?”

  “Maybe an office flirtation, but certainly not an affair. But I do think she stopped loving him sometime in eighty-eight.”

  “After he beat her?” McKenna asked.

  The question surprised Hunt. “Yeah, probably after he beat her,” he said, eyeing McKenna shrewdly. “What do you know about that?”

  “Less than you, I’d guess. All I know is that she somehow wound up in the hospital with a broken arm and a broken jaw, saying she took a tumble down the stairs. But that wasn’t what really happened, was it?”

  “No, that isn’t what happened. He did it to her.”

  “Know why?”

  “Yeah, I know why. She had been working real late on some big project in the office. The place was a mess when she got home, so she climbed on her high horse and gave Mullen the business. You know the routine, don’t you?”

  “You mean, ‘What have you been doing all day while I’ve been out in the world breaking my ass for us, you lazy good-for-nothing?’”

  “That’s the one,” Hunt said. “I think she also threw in, ‘What do I need you for?’ and then Mullen snapped. He’s a big boy and forgets how strong he is when he gets going.”

  “So she gets busted up bad during a squabble. Not too smart, not too nice, and certainly not a great character sign for him,” McKenna said.

  Hunt didn’t get it. “Don’t forget, Mullen did everything around the house and usually he did a pretty good job at it,” he offered in his partner’s defense.

  “Okay, let’s not put him on trial for that right now. How do you know so much about this incident?”

  “Because I saved his ass on that one. She was gonna have him locked up and you know what that means.”

  “Sure. He’d lose his job. It’s felonious assault.”

  “Yeah, he would have lost it all. The job, the wife, the house, the kids. Everything gone. He was terrified, so he locked her in the bathroom and gave me a call.”

  “Where do you live?” McKenna asked.

  “Yonkers. About ten minutes away, but I was there in five. I managed to calm things down and talk some sense into Kathleen. We all got our story straight to save his job and then Mullen and I took her to the hospital.”

  “And that was it?” McKenna asked.

  “Yeah, that was it for a while. But things were never the same after that. It looked normal, but it wasn’t.”

  “Because she was terrified?”

  “Yeah, I guess she was.”

  We know now that she certainly had good reason to be terrified, McKenna thought. “Then came her first nervous breakdown. You know about that?”

  “Not directly, but I know something about it.”

  “Where’d you get it from? Mullen?”

  “No, he never mentioned a word about it and I never pressed him on it. Before she went into the hospital, it seemed to me that he was doing everything he could to make amends. He treated her like a queen, even better than he used to before the beating.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning he was always spending every spare penny he had buying her clothes and jewelry, besides doing everything else around the house,” Hunt said defensively.

  “And she was doing nothing?”

  “No, I guess she was working a lot of hours until she lost her job.”

  “Too much time out of work while she was in the hospital?” McKenna guessed.

  “Probably,” Hunt conceded.

  “Let’s get back to her first nervous breakdown. What caused it and how do you know?”

  “She never mentioned a word about it to the doctors or to me, but my wife went to visit her in the hospital and Kathleen whispered to her: She told my wife that sooner or later, Mullen was going to kill her. Then she went really off and said that if he couldn’t kill her, someone else would do it for him.”

  “And I guess your wife thought Kathleen was crazy?”

  “Well, she was in the psychiatric wing, wasn’t she? And we both knew how well Mullen treated her and how hard he worked. It looked like classic paranoia to us and we wound up feeling sorry for him,” Hunt said.

  McKenna said nothing in response. He just stared at Hunt, waiting for the dawn of reason, waiting for Hunt to take some responsibility for his actions and his errors in judgment. He didn’t want Hunt defending Mullen, he wanted Hunt viciously against him.

  The uncomfortable silence lasted a minute as Hunt squirmed on the couch under McKenna’s gaze. Finally, Hunt had to say something. “Pretty dumb, huh?” was what he came up with.

  “Let’s see exactly how dumb,” McKenna countered immediately. “I’m betting Kathleen was born someplace on the other side. Right?”

  “Yeah, she’s Irish from Ireland.”

  “Probably from someplace in the North?”

  “I don’t know. I just know she was born in Ireland.”

  “Count on it, she’s from someplace in the North. Now, she was still making good money after he busted her up the first time and she’s a smart girl. Why do you think she didn’t just leave him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You didn’t know then, but you should sure know now. Why did she hang around, terrified, instead of just packing up and getting out?”

  “I don’t know,” Hunt
repeated at once.

  But McKenna could see that Hunt did know, that he had figured it out. McKenna just pointed to the pictures on the coffee table in front of them and said patiently, “Look at these and tell me you’re not stupid.”

  Hunt did as he was told, stoically looking down at the pictures, taking in first one and then another. Finally he stiffened and looked up at McKenna. “I’m not stupid.”

  “Prove it,” McKenna said.

  “After she got home from the hospital she probably made some leaving noises. Then Mullen told her who he really was and she knew what that meant. She knew that if she ever left him, he’d get her. Also knew that if she had him locked up, then someone else would get her.”

  “Then she wasn’t crazy or paranoid?”

  “No.”

  “Then what was she?”

  “A smart, scared girl, but another victim. Maybe the only one who’s still alive.”

  “Glad we got that out of the way,” McKenna said, sitting back on the sofa. “Now, for a while I’m gonna tell you all the things that you were gonna tell me. Just stop me when I’m wrong.”

  In contrast to McKenna, Hunt was sitting on the edge of the sofa. “Go ahead.”

  “Unfortunately for Kathleen, Mullen was desperately in love with her. Because of him, they were living on one salary again, but that didn’t stop him from spending every penny they had buying her things she probably didn’t want and couldn’t use. They’re going broke, but Mullen can’t help himself. He’s got to win her love back and he thinks the gifts will do it. So he starts shaking down the call girls, but he doesn’t save a penny of the loot. It all goes to gifts for Kathleen. After he gets nabbed, you’re as surprised as everyone else. How am I doing so far?”

  “That’s what happened.”

  “Good. Now let’s get to you. All this time you’re sitting there at ground zero, watching him spend everything and feeling sorry for him. You should have seen it coming, but you didn’t. Then he asks you for the big favor after he gets nabbed. He doesn’t tell you in so many words that he’s gonna run, but he wants you to keep an eye on Kathleen for him. He’s—”

  “Stop right there! You’ve got it wrong,” Hunt said. “After he got locked up he couldn’t care less about Kathleen. His feelings for her took a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. He blamed everything on her.”

  “Does he hate her?” McKenna asked.

  “I’d say so.”

  “You’re not gonna deny now that you’ve been in touch with him, are you?”

  “No. Like I told you, I’m gonna come clean. But it’s important for you to know that it isn’t Kathleen he’s concerned about. It’s his kids. He loves those two boys and they’re crazy about him.”

  The kids? I should have seen that, McKenna thought. This Mullen is a macho, highly focused, dedicated guy with a one-track mind. He has to be to have pulled off the life he’s led. After he got locked up he must have realized that he had failed with Kathleen, so he switched all the affection he’s capable of giving to his two boys. They’re his lighthouse, the only sane marker in his crazy world. “Tell me how he got in touch with you,” McKenna said.

  “The first time?”

  “Yeah, the first time.”

  “In December of ninety-two my brother got a package for me.”

  “That was the arrangement Mullen had made with you? Everything was to go through your brother?”

  “Yeah. I guess he thought they’d still be watching me, but the surveillance had been off me for a while.”

  Not too good a surveillance if Hunt knew about it, McKenna thought. “What was in the package?”

  “Ten thousand in cash and instructions.”

  “Where was it mailed from?”

  “New York.”

  “His handwriting on the label?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What about the instructions?”

  “Typewritten and simple. Spend it on the kids, give Kathleen whatever I thought necessary to keep things running smoothly, use discretion, and don’t splash it around.”

  “How’d you do it?” McKenna asked.

  “Spent two thousand on the kids for Christmas and gave the rest to Kathleen. Five thousand right away and the rest during the year, a thousand at a time.”

  “What was her reaction?”

  “None. No reaction at all. I guess she expected it.”

  “That’s it? No thank you, no nothing?”

  “We don’t really talk anymore. You’d have to see her to understand.”

  “Didn’t she get on with her life?”

  “She’s working again, but she doesn’t seem to have much of a life. Listless is what I’d call her. She used to be a knockout, but she’s really let herself go.”

  “She a redhead?”

  “Used to be. How’d you know?” Hunt asked, surprised.

  “Lucky guess. What color is her hair now?”

  “Sort of a dirty blond. Might be her real color.”

  “Okay, back to the packages. How many did you get and what was the total?”

  “Six packages, usually in December. Always ten thousand dollars in them, except for the one in ninety-four. That one had twenty thousand in it so I could take the boys to London to see their father.”

  “London? How did that work?”

  “Easy. I just followed the instructions. I booked us into the Hotel Churchill and had them in Trafalgar Square by Nelson’s needle at noon on the twenty-third of December. The instructions stated that a woman wearing an orange kerchief would pick them up and that’s what happened.”

  “Did she say anything to you?”

  “Not a word.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Maybe forty, black hair, stocky. A little plain, but not bad-looking. She just took the boys by the hand and off they went. I didn’t see them again until they showed up back at the hotel on January second. Then we came back.”

  “Did the same woman drop them off back at the hotel?”

  “I didn’t see her, but I presume so.”

  “What about passports? You had to get the boys passports to take them to London, didn’t you?”

  “No, they already had them. Mullen got the boys their passports while he was out on bail.”

  God! How did IAD miss that one? McKenna wondered. “Where were those boys for eleven days?” he asked.

  “With their father, I guess, but they wouldn’t say. They came back in new clothes with new luggage, but they wouldn’t say a word about it.”

  “Didn’t you press them on it?”

  “There’s no pressing those two boys. They’re both just like their father, tough and smart.”

  “You think he’s in touch with them?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I think he’s been in touch with them for a while.”

  “Why’s that?” McKenna asked.

  “Because they didn’t seem too surprised when I told them we were going to London. Neither one of them had a question about it.”

  “But you’ve got no idea how he’s doing it?”

  “None.”

  Then I’m gonna find out because those two boys are the monster’s Achilles’ heel, McKenna thought. “I want you to tell me everything you know about those kids.”

  McKenna was back on the phone to Brunette right after Hunt left. After reporting, McKenna suggested that some laws pertaining to the Fourth Amendment had to be violated.

  Brunette agreed. Even if they could get a search warrant for the Mullen home in Woodlawn, that would legally require giving notice to Kathleen. That would never do, given the present circumstances. So, while Kathleen was at work and the boys were in school, the Mullen home would be thoroughly searched. McKenna had to know how Mullen was keeping in touch with his sons. It would also be nice to know where those boys had spent those eleven days with him.

  Sixteen

  McKenna and Thor sat on the facing sofas in the sitting room of McKenna’s suite, talking over the Hunt interview
while waiting for Vernon to arrive. The crime scene photos of the three bodies were still on the coffee table between them, consciously ignored by both men.

  McKenna answered the knock at the door. The Master of Murder made his entrance with a flourish, dressed in a fresh suit and carrying the autopsy reports and his notes. McKenna resumed his seat on the sofa while Vernon pulled up an armchair and placed it near the end of the coffee table, but he remained standing as he shuffled through his papers.

  It was a few minutes before Vernon tossed the papers onto the coffee table between McKenna and Thor. Class was in session as he began pacing back and forth in the spacious sitting room, his hands behind his back.

  “This whole protocol is a little unusual for me,” Vernon stated. “I’m usually presented with an unknown killer’s work and asked to study it to ascertain his motivations. Along the way I’m frequently able to determine the killer’s race, approximate age, education, socioeconomic background, sexual preference, probable occupation among a precise range of choices, certain factors he had experienced in his childhood that helped contribute to making him the fiend he is, what kind of car he’s likely to drive, his personal hygiene habits or lack thereof, whether he’s single or involved in a stable sexual relationship, whether he’s been in the military, and many other personality traits. In short, I tell the agencies I’ve worked with whom they should be looking for; it’s then up to them to attach a name to the person I describe, build a case against him, and finally arrest him to end the horror. When I’m working with competent investigators, it’s rewarding work.”

  Vernon stopped pacing for a moment to direct a regal nod to Thor and McKenna, surprising them both. Kudos from Vernon were as rare as compliments from Stalin.

  Vernon acknowledged their embarrassed smiles and continued his pacing. “These three cases you’ve given me to examine are a rare pleasure for me since we already know the identity of the killer and quite a few things about him,” he said, then stopped pacing to make a point. “By the way, let me tell you that I’m convinced that the same man killed Joseph Dwyer, Thomas Winthrop, and Meaghan Maher. If necessary, I’m prepared to give expert testimony substantiating that fact.”