The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel

by Torbert, R. J. ;

  “Keep that psycho away from me!” Simpson yelled.

  “Listen,” Paul said, “just answer my questions. Calm down.”

  Robert finally settled down and started answering Paul’s questions. For two hours, Robert discussed his life with Debbie, his work with William Lance, and even his intimate encounters with Patty for a few months. His indiscretions during these months were the genesis of all that was to follow.

  Paul stood up to stretch his legs and looked down at Simpson. He said, “You may have had nothing to do with kidnapping Debbie Lance or the killings that followed, but by letting your dick do the talking for you—yeah that’s right, by not keeping it in your pants because you had to have another piece of ass—it was the root of all this evil. As of now, we are not going to charge you, but quite frankly I think your punishment is going to be worse because I have no idea how you are going to explain yourself to Debbie and her father. And if you are still with her and working for the old man after all this, I may just want your autograph because it would be the greatest magic trick of all time. Hold on a second,” he said as he left Simpson there and entered the viewing room with the assistant district attorney.

  “Let him go,” Ashley said. “We have nothing on him for now, but I want to hear the tape again anyway.”

  Meanwhile, Bud had his own interrogation to be concerned about. Officer Steve Rubelli was going through the motions, questioning Bud about the shooting at the Red Onion Café, and for one of the few times in his career, Bud took and followed the advice of both Paul and Detective Lieutenant Cronin. His answers were straight and to the point.

  It had been Cronin’s statement before he walked into the room that made an impression on Bud. As Bud was walking to the room, Cronin had grabbed his arm and said, “No hiding behind a clown face today. There are people here who care and are concerned about you. I let you go out on calls with just a backup gun because I want you involved in the trial. Don’t prove to them that I misjudged you. Don’t prove to them I don’t know what I am doing by making poor decisions when it comes to you. But most of all show them how intelligent and how good of a cop you are without sidestepping stress with the humor. This is serious. Make sure you project the attitude that you know how serious it is.”

  Bud had gotten to the door, turned around, and said, “I won’t let you down, boss.” Cronin nodded as Bud stepped inside.

  Detective Lieutenant Cronin had also spoken to Rubelli in his office before his meeting with Bud and told Rubelli just how he felt and what he would do if Bud didn’t get his gun back. When Rubelli asked Cronin if he was threatening Internal Affairs, the detective lieutenant answered back quickly, “No, I’m protecting you. I’m telling you that you have a good cop here who witnessed a fellow officer shot and killed, who is knee-deep in the middle of this case, which is the biggest case in this town for the past 20 years and for certain the rest of our careers. He finds himself alone in the back of a restaurant with a cop killer. He did what every one of us would do, and quite frankly many cops would have done in the shooter. Detective Johnson had the frame of mind to shoot when he felt threatened. So what I’m saying, Officer Rubelli, is that I’m letting you know if he doesn’t get his gun back from the review board, I’m going to fight it aggressively. And quite frankly, I don’t think public opinion on this one would be too interested in your side of things. So go do what you have to do, but keep things in perspective. We are talking about a gunshot to someone who was murdered at the hospital by someone who was involved in the killing of a cop. Thanks for your time and for listening.”

  Officer Rubelli left the office knowing that Cronin had a point, and unless Bud surprised them with answers completely out of the ordinary for this type of case, Johnson would get his firearm back. Bud did not let anyone down. He sat in the meeting before the Internal Affairs review board and convinced them he attempted to avoid the discharge of his firearm. He ended the interview by saying, “I love being a cop. I love my brothers-in-arms family and I’m proud to be here and I understand why you need to do this, but I need you to understand that we officers who have gone through something like this need the support from all our brothers. A good cop was killed because she happened to be in the same car as the target. It’s more important to me that we lost Victoria Davis than it is about me shooting a cop killer in the groin.”

  Bud was excused and went back to Detective Lieutenant Cronin’s office to give him the details of the meeting. Phone records came in of John Winters’ calls to Patty Saunders, seven times; Phil Smith, eight times; his brother Mason, four times; Kyle Winters, five times; and Wayne Starfield, 14 times during Deborah’s kidnapping.

  “I guess we have enough for a warrant,” Cronin said as he picked up his phone and called Agent Sherman and informed him they had pretty good evidence to pick up John and Mason Winters. As soon as he hung up the phone, it rang again. This time it was Rubelli on the other end. “Thank you,” Cronin said as he hung up the phone. He opened his draw and pulled out Bud’s Glock 9mm gun, an Austrian-made pistol that was a favorite of cops and standard issue to FBI agents. Cronin amused himself by thinking it was also a favorite of rap stars. After putting it back in its holster, he gave it to Bud.

  “Congratulations, Detective Johnson, you are now a brother with arms again. Rubelli was impressed with your statements.”

  “Yeah,” Bud said as he got up to leave. “Thank goodness I didn’t tell him I had to take the biggest crap of my life while I was in there.”

  The door shut as Cronin shook his head and said, “The Comedian.”

  Bud met Paul to drive over to Mather Hospital to visit with Deborah Lance to try and get some information while it was still fresh on her mind. They met with her doctor, who told them she was severely beaten and barely escaped being raped when Starfield was killed. Physically, she would eventually be OK; however, emotionally would be a different story. He said she would need intense therapy to get through this. Also at the hospital was Agent O’Connor, who had come in for some follow-up questions while still on his crutches from the gunshot wound. They had seen him at the funeral earlier, but it was not appropriate to speak with him there. He told Bud and Paul that Debbie’s face was pretty bruised but that she was holding up well until they broke the news to her about Patty’s involvement with the kidnapping and her involvement with Simpson the prior year.

  “She took it pretty hard,” O’Connor explained. “She loved him. The old man took it hard too but told him he had three days to get out of the guesthouse. He wants him gone before Debbie gets back. She wouldn’t even see him. We told her we didn’t think he was involved in her kidnapping, but she’s done with him, I think.”

  “Thanks,” Paul said, “we are going to speak with her for a few minutes. Can you just make sure your guards let us in?” O’Connor nodded and waved to the agents at the door to let the two detectives in the room.

  They walked in to see Debbie Lance sleeping and her dad sitting at her bedside holding her hand. He looked up at Bud and Paul and acknowledged to them to come over. Paul stood by her bedside looking at the young woman sleeping and could not hear Bud talking to the father regarding the events over the past week. Paul was in one of his trances where he blanked everything out except what he was looking at and thinking. He looked at her pretty face with bruises on her cheek and her left eye. Starfield walloped her so hard he had fractured her nose and made her eye swell up as well as giving her rib cage a fracture. To think what he would have done if he had not been stopped by the masked intruder.

  Paul was very touched by watching her father stroke her hair as she lay there. His thoughts went to Rachelle and how she could have been lost. Officer Davis, Timothy, Kyle Winters, Wayne Starfield. All dead, with Debbie, Rachelle, and Agent O’Connor injured seriously because of a jealous girlfriend who wanted money and power from the Lance family. Paul’s head was spinning with all the possible angles. His thoughts had taken over so much that he didn’t even hear
Bud call his name to see if he had any more questions for William Lance. Finally, Bud touched Paul on the arm to get his attention and said, “Paul, any questions for Mr. Lance?”

  “Yes,” Paul said. “Mr. Lance, is there anything you are not telling us out of embarrassment to you, your daughter, or your business about all of this?”

  William Lance seemed stunned by the question and sat back in his chair and started to stare in the air to gather time and his thoughts.

  “Why do you have to think so hard and so long?” Paul went on. “Your daughter was beaten and almost raped. People are dead, and our case is saying that Patty Saunders instigated all of this out of jealousy. Is this what this case is about? And, by the way, you never told us about Ms. Saunders trying to get you into bed. Mr. Lance, did you have a life-insurance policy out on Debbie?”

  “Not here,” Lance replied.

  “Yes or no, Mr. Lance? Was there a policy on her?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “How much?” Paul asked. “How much?” Paul said again in a much stronger voice.

  “Five million dollars,” Lance answered.

  “Five million dollars for a 26-year-old woman?” Paul replied. Bud was just standing there silently watching Paul ask the questions. There was no one better in Bud’s eyes than Paul, when he got on a roll with questions.

  Paul moved a little closer to William Lance and said, “Mr. Lance, tell me why you had a $5 million policy on your daughter.” William Lance stared back at Debbie sleeping.

  “Not here,” he said.

  “Then let’s go get a cup of coffee,” Paul said. Bud looked at them and said he was going to stay with Debbie in case she woke up.

  As William Lance and Paul walked down the hallway to the coffee shop, Agent O’Connor informed Paul that the FBI had raided both Thompson Street homes for the Winters brothers, and they were not surprised they were not there. A manhunt was now under way, but quite frankly these were not the type of guys to skip from their comfort zone, so it was just a matter of time. O’Connor accepted Paul’s offer to witness the questioning as they headed toward the café. In Debbie Lance’s room, Bud was looking at her when she opened her eyes.

  She smiled and said, “You again?”

  “Hi there, Ms. Lance,” Bud said as he smiled back.

  “You are the detective that was there at the house.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Call me Bud.”

  “This time I have clothes on,” she replied with a half-hearted laugh. “What a way to meet someone for the first time.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Bud said. “The important thing is that you are going to be fine and this thing is almost over.” She turned her head, and Bud could see the tear tickle down her cheek.

  “My best friend seduced the man I have loved since I was 13 or 14 years old. They both betrayed me, and now innocent people were killed by trying to help find me.” As the young woman started to let out a burst of tears, Bud sat by her.

  “Listen,” he said. “We are going to figure this out, I promise. The important thing is you are going to be OK physically; emotionally, there are going to be people to help you. This is my card, call me any time. I was there when your clothes were off, I am here with your clothes on, and I will be there no matter what.”

  The young woman looked at Bud in amazement that a cop would speak to her like that, but he started laughing and told her, “That means no matter what, I will be there for you if you need me. By the way,” he added, “you look like a Deborah to me.” She started laughing for the first time in a while. “Listen,” Bud said, “can I ask you some questions?”

  “Sure,” Debbie replied. “If I can ask you a few.”

  “OK,” Bud said. “Let’s take turns.”

  “Deal,” she replied. Bud asked her questions about the five days she was held hostage. He wanted anything that would help with evidence during a trial once charges were filed against Patty Saunders and the Winters Brothers. In turn, Debbie asked questions about what they knew about Patty and Robert. One of them being if there was evidence that her boyfriend was responsible for her going through this.

  Bud answered as honestly as he could to her, saying, “Right now, the only evidence we have is that he used poor judgment in getting involved intimately with Patty. He ended the relationship over his guilt of betraying you, but a woman scorned is a very dangerous thing.”

  “How would you know?” Debbie asked.

  “I grew up with three sisters and my mom. So I know these things. That’s a question, so it’s my turn again.”

  She laughed and said, “Are you a comedian or a cop?”

  “That’s two questions in a row, so I get two.”

  “OK, OK,” Deborah said, smiling.

  Bud’s face turned serious again as he asked, “Deborah, tell me why your dad would have a $5 million insurance policy out on you.”

  “I asked my dad that question about three years ago. He looked at me and just said, ‘Because you are everything to me.’ That’s all he told me. I just figured when we lost our mom, he reacted a bit by insuring me.”

  “Did you see anyone else the whole time you were held hostage, besides Starfield?”

  “No,” she replied.

  “What about on the ferry? Can you tell me how they did it? We had our own theory, which was put in an article in the paper. We believe the article was so close to the truth it prompted the shootings to eliminate the reporter who wrote the article.”

  Deborah told him everything that had happened on the boat, and Paul’s theory was almost dead-on. The only difference was that once they had her in the trunk of one of the cars, they didn’t want to take a chance of anything happening on the ferry, so the car that held Deborah drove around back to Long Island on the Connecticut Turnpike then most likely on the Cross Island Parkway back to the Long Island Expressway back to Port Jefferson. No tolls involved, except for the Throgs Neck Bridge. The second car simply turned around and went back on the ferry after they dropped off Deborah’s burnt-orange Charger.

  “How do you know that?” Bud asked.

  “I heard them talking through the trunk,” she replied.

  “This is good,” Bud said. “How do you think or who do you think made the calls from a payphone at McDonald’s rest stop?”

  “I don’t know,” Deborah said.

  “Look at me,” Bud said. “Does Patty or Robert have relatives in Connecticut that you know they have kept in touch with?”

  Deborah looked at Bud with her glassy eyes and said Patty had a cousin in Milford, Connecticut.

  Bud nodded his head in acknowledgement and said, “You’re doing great.”

  “I’m kind of tired,” Deborah replied.

  “I know,” Bud replied. “Thank you, Deborah.”

  “You know my dad is the only one who calls me Deborah; everyone else calls me Deb or Debbie.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bud replied. “I’m partial to formal names.”

  “It’s OK,” the young patient replied. “You can call me Deborah.” With that she closed her eyes and drifted off. Bud smiled, looking at her, and realized how lucky she was to be alive.

  He wrote a note on his writing pad that said, Thursday; watch interrogation video of Robert Simpson with Paul. He left the room and walked down to the café and sat down at the table where Agent O’Connor and Paul were with William Lance.

  “Mr. Lance, excuse me if this is a repeat question that Agent O’Connor and Detective Powers have already asked, but I would appreciate knowing why there is a $5 million policy out on Deborah Lance?”

  “As I mentioned earlier in the conversation, I insured Deborah because when I bought the policy I had not sold the 8:15 office business yet. My plan was to have Deborah run the business; therefore, the large policy was not unusual.”

  “Who else knew about the policy amount?” Agent O’Connor interjected.
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  As Lance hesitated, Paul chimed in, “Let’s make it easy for you. Did Robert Simpson and Patty Saunders know about it?”

  As Lance put his head down, he said, “Yes.”

  “So we have motive on both of them,” Paul said. He called Detective Lieutenant Cronin, who in turn sent officers to pick up Simpson again.

  “Mr. Lance,” Bud went on. “Why would Patty Saunders know about something like this? Simpson was your assistant and almost family. Why and how did Patty know about this?”

  Lance shook his head as he answered, “They were so close, it just came up during a conversation one day. We were talking about the business, how Deborah would eventually have it. She promised Patty there would be a place for her.”

  Paul looked at Agent O’Connor and Bud, then turned to Lance. “So when you sold the business last year, Patty lost her career job, lost her best friend to Simpson with a possible marriage, and she would be left out in the cold. Tell us about the relationship with you.”

  William Lance looked directly at Paul, making eye contact, and said, “I’m a 60-year-old man. What normal guy my age would not be tempted to have a 23-year-old at the time and a very beautiful girl in my bed? It was hard to not fall victim to her.”

  “It was hard, all right,” Bud interjected. Paul gave Bud a whack on his arm.

  “Continue,” Paul said to Lance.

  He leaned forward to speak again, saying, “As hard—or should I say difficult—as it was not to fall prey to her, I would not betray my daughter. In addition, my reputation as former Suffolk County executive, my business, there was no way I would ruin my life, which would have affected my girl too much.” Paul believed him.

  Bud couldn’t stay silent any longer and said, “What did Patty do to attempt to get involved?”

  “One night,” Lance started, “I went upstairs to leave the kids at the pool and Patty came in my room about 10 minutes later to talk to me. She got close, and I couldn’t help it. We kissed, and within seconds she grabbed my crotch and wanted to, quote, ‘See my Lance,’ so to speak. She had her top off when I pulled her off me and told her I couldn’t go through with it. She told me not to worry about it. No strings attached, she said, but I knew there were always strings attached when it came to young women and older men with sex.”