by David Archer
David hopped out of the driver’s door while his sister, Katie, got out of the passenger side. They had almost made it to the stairs by the time they realized Sam was sitting there, and it was Katie who froze and looked at him with dread in her eyes.
“Sam?” Katie asked. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s going to be okay,” Sam began, and then cursed himself. Those were the very words often used to notify family members that a police officer had been wounded in the line of duty. “I mean, she’s okay, she’s not hurt, but there is a bit of a problem. I’m afraid your mother has been arrested for murder, and I’m…”
“She’s been what?” David demanded. “Sam, you’ve got to be kidding.”
“I wish I was, buddy,” Sam said. “She went after a suspect in an old murder case this morning, and somehow her gun was used by someone else to kill the man. Right now, the evidence is all pointing at her, but that’s why she came to me. I’m on the case, and I’m going to find out who really killed the man.”
Katie looked at her brother for a moment, then turned back to Sam. “Okay, now tell us straight. How bad is this?”
“Kids, I’m not going to lie to you, it looks bad. Right now, all of the evidence they have points to your mom, and they’ve even got a witness who’s willing to swear they saw her do it. She tells me she didn’t, and that’s good enough for me. I’m working the case and looking for leads, and I’ll find them. She just asked me to come by and let you know what’s going on, so you don’t panic. She says you’re old enough to take care of yourselves for a few days, and if this drags out too long you can always come stay with me and my family.”
“We’ll be okay here,” David said. “I’m eighteen, now, so I can take care of Katie for a while. I just want to know if there’s anything I can do to help you?”
Sam shook his head. “Right now, I’d have to say no. We know that we’re dealing with a killer, so I don’t want to take any chance of you kids ending up in the line of fire. What you need to do is keep going to school, just act like everything is fine. If anybody contacts you or gives you any problem, you call me immediately. You both have my number, right?”
“Yeah,” Katie said. “Mom made us put it in our phones, just in case anything were to happen to her. Sam, do you really think you can find out who did it?”
“Yes, I do. I’ve got a pretty good track record when it comes to solving my cases, and I give you my word that I won’t let up until I know the truth. There’s a killer out there somewhere, and I’m going to find him. That’s all there is to it.”
Sam made sure the kids had enough money to carry them for a few days, then promised to keep in touch and let them know about any progress he made. He hugged them both and then got back into his car.
His next move, he figured, would be to visit the scene of the crime. He remembered the address from the file and posted into his GPS, then headed for LoDo.
LoDo is the name given to the lower downtown neighborhood where parts of the criminal element tended to settle. Denver was not known for a lot of gang activity, but most of what there was could be found in LoDo. Sam figured that would be the reason for Samara returning to the area when he came back to Denver, and he wanted to find out just what the man had been doing before he died.
The building was not terribly old, but it wasn’t in very good shape. There were minor amounts of graffiti on the walls, mostly spray-painted images of cartoonish devils, the common sign indicating the presence of the Denver Devils street gang. The Devils were a local gang, and apparently not affiliated with any of the international and national gangs who also had a presence in the city. They were apparently tolerated by the bigger gangs because their activities were considered minor; they were involved in marijuana and black-market liquor distribution, but avoided any dealings with harder drugs, firearms and such.
This is not to say that they were not a criminal element, however. The Devils had proven quite resourceful at protecting their turf, even against the bigger gangs. Their leader, known simply as “Snake,” made a point of recruiting young returning soldiers, and utilizing their combat skills effectively. The Denver PD Gang Unit had several cases pending against them, but found it difficult to make an arrest, or to get a conviction when one was made. Devils members always seemed to have airtight alibis.
Sam parked the Corvette in front of the building, where a number of Devils seemed to be gathered. A couple of them started walking toward the car, and Sam grinned at them.
“You guys like my Corvette?”
“Yeah, man,” one young man said. “That’s a sweet ride. You might not want to park it here, though, it might not be there when you come back.”
Sam shrugged, but kept grinning. “Yeah, it might not be,” he said. “But I know what each and every one of you guys looks like, so guess who I’ll be shooting if it’s gone.” He held out his jacket so they could see the big Glock in the holster clipped to his belt.
The youngster eyed him coolly, but made a point of stepping back a couple of feet. Sam pulled out his ID and held it up so that most of them could see it.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” he said. “I’m a private investigator, and I’m trying to find out what happened here this morning. See, the cops say that one of their own detectives murdered a guy, but I don’t buy it. What I might buy is some real information about what actually happened. Anybody interested in taking my money?”
“Hey, we might take it,” said a man in his twenties. The guy was covered with tattoos that went all the way up his face and over the top of his shaven head. “That don’t mean we’re going to give you anything in return, though.”
Sam waggled a hand as if to say things could go either way. “That’s been tried,” he said. “If you want to see how it worked out for the guy who tried it, I can give you the address of the cemetery. Now, all I want to know is what really happened. Unless one of you guys is the killer, I’m not interested in causing you any problems or trying to take you to jail. To be honest, everything I’ve heard about the Devils says you’re probably the good guys in some cases. Why would I want to interfere with that?”
“That’s cool, man,” said another, “but we ain’t no snitches.”
Sam nodded. “Okay, no problem. I’m just going to go inside and visit with a few of the people who live here. Oh, and I expect my car to be sitting where it is when I come back down.”
He leaned on his cane and started walking toward the door, but suddenly a half dozen of the Devils stepped into his way. Sam shook his head.
“Are we going to have to do this the hard way?” he asked. “All I want to do is talk to a few folks. Is that really such a big problem for you guys?”
“Hey,” said the tattooed man. “It’s like you said, Dick, we the good guys. Some of our people live up there, we don’t want you to hassle them. Dig?”
“Sure, I get it,” Sam said. “But how do you know somebody up there might not want the money I’m offering? I mean, looks to me like there’s probably quite a few people who live here who could use an extra couple hundred dollars.”
A few of the men seemed suddenly interested at the mention of the word “hundred,” and Sam reached into a pocket and pulled out a couple of hundred dollar bills. He held them up for everyone to see. “All I want is to talk to whoever was close to the apartment where Digger was killed. That’s all I need. Anybody want to collect this reward for showing me where to find them?”
A big man who had been sitting on the steps of the building stood up. “That’s all you want? Just to talk to somebody up there?”
“That’s all,” Sam replied.
The guy looked at him for a minute, then motioned for Sam to follow him. The rest of the Devils got out of the way and let him through. “I’m Snake,” the big guy said. “There was two people close by when it happened. One of them says he saw that lady detective shoot the guy, but I don’t know if he’s telling the truth. The other one saw her bending over the guy after he was already shot.
Come on, I’ll introduce you to both of them.”
Sam held out the two bills and Snake took them from his hand and shoved them into a pocket. He led the way into the building and up a flight of stairs to the second floor, then down the hall toward a door marked with crime scene tape. He turned to the last door on the right before the one that was sealed and knocked on it.
A young woman who was obviously well along in a family way opened the door and looked out. “Nikki,” Snake said, “this guy wants to know what you saw. He’s a private detective, he’s trying to prove that lady cop didn’t kill Digger.”
The girl held the door open and Sam followed Snake inside, then took a seat at her kitchen table when Snake pointed at it. Nikki closed the door and then took another chair.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told the police,” she said. “I heard shooting, but I was afraid to come out at first. I waited a couple minutes, maybe, to see if there was more shooting, then I opened the door and looked out into the hall. I didn’t see nobody, so I went out and looked in the apartment next door, because that’s where it sounded like the shooting was. I saw the guy who was living there laying on the floor and a lot of blood, and then I saw that lady cop. She was down on one knee and just looking at him. I thought she must have killed him, and I guess I started screaming.”
Sam nodded. “Thank you, Nikki,” he said. “Can I ask you a couple of questions about it?”
Nikki shrugged. “Sure, yeah, I guess.”
“When you saw Detective Parks bending over the body, did you see a gun in her hand?”
The girl shook her head. “No, she didn’t have no gun.”
“Was there anybody else in the room with her?”
Nikki narrowed her eyes and thought. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t remember seeing anybody else in there.”
Sam stared at the girl for a moment, and the thought crossed his mind that she looked a little bit familiar, but he couldn’t place where he might’ve seen her before. “Nikki, did you know Mr. Samara? The man who was shot?”
Nikki looked at him for a second, then slowly shook her head. “No, was that his name? I didn’t know him, he just moved in a few days ago.”
“Was he alone when he moved in? Did he have anybody living with him?”
She shrugged. “There was another guy staying there with him,” she said. “I don’t know who he was, but he was in and out. I only saw him a few times, and I don’t think I ever spoke to him.”
Sam turned to Snake. “I don’t suppose you would know who he was?”
Snake stared into his eyes for a couple of seconds, then shrugged his own shoulders. “Guy’s name was Zeno, that’s all I knew. Big guy, late forties, brown hair. I never seen him around here before.”
“When was the last time he was seen? Was he here this morning, when this happened?”
Snake shrugged again. “I don’t know, not for sure. There were a lot of people around this morning when that cop showed up. I guess he could have been in the crowd.”
“But you haven’t seen him since then?”
“He hasn’t been around today,” Snake said. “Least ways, I haven’t seen him.”
“And you probably wouldn’t have any idea where he might’ve gone?”
Snake shook his head. “People come here, they leave. Most of us who live here try to avoid new people sticking around. We got our own people we trust, but new people tend to bring problems.”
Sam gave Nikki one of his business cards. “Nikki, if you think of anything else you think I might need to know, please give me a call.” He glanced around the room and saw that there didn’t seem to be much in the way of baby needs, and looked at her again. “My wife is expecting a baby, too. How soon are you due?”
“Couple weeks,” she said. “Why?”
“You’re living in a two room apartment, but I don’t see any of the things you’re going to need when the baby comes. If I give you some money, can you use it for that purpose?”
Her eyes went wide, but she shook her head. “I don’t need no charity,” she said.
“It’s not charity,” Sam said. “You can ask Snake, I said I would pay for the information you gave me.” He reached into his pocket and peeled off four more of his hundred dollar bills and laid them on the table. He looked at Snake. “Didn’t I say that?”
Snake stared into his eyes for another second, then looked at Nikki and smiled. “He sure did,” he said. “That’s why I brought him up here to you. I figured you could use the money.”
Nikki looked hungrily at the money on the table, then looked up at Snake again. “This is for real?”
“Hell, yeah,” Snake said. “He said he’d pay, I brought him up to you. Those stinking cops didn’t offer to pay you, did they? You stood up and did the right thing, told them what you saw, I figured you deserve a reward.”
Sam smiled and got to his feet. “Like I said, Nikki, just give me a call if you think of anything else. I’m trying to prove my friend, Detective Parks, didn’t murder this man. Anything you can tell me is worth something to me.”
He looked at Snake, who had remained standing, and the big man opened the apartment door. Sam stepped out and Snake followed, shutting the door behind him.
“That was pretty cool, Dick,” he said. “Come on, I’ll show you the other guy.” He turned and walked past the sealed door to another one two doors past it, then knocked.
A wiry, older man opened it and smiled when he saw Snake. “Hey, dude,” he said, and Sam could hear the long-term effects of alcoholism in his voice. “What’s shakin’?”
Snake pointed at Sam. “This is a private dick, Booker,” he said. “He wants to hear what you told the cops.”
Booker looked at Sam for a moment, then licked his lips and shrugged. “You mean, about seeing that cop kill the guy down the hall? Yeah, I seen it. I was walking down the hall when she knocked on the door, and as soon as he answered the door she pulled out a gun and went bang, bang, bang. Shot him three times, boom, boom, boom, then she turned around and pointed that gun at me and I ran back in here and slammed the door. I didn’t want to get killed, know what I mean?”
“Sure, I understand,” Sam said. “So, that’s what you saw, right? You saw her knock on the door and start shooting?”
Booker nodded vigorously. “Yep, that’s exactly what I saw. Bang, bang, bang, just like that.”
Sam nodded. “Well, Booker, I sure appreciate your help. You have a good day, all right?”
Booker thanked Sam and shut his door without another word. Sam glanced at Snake, who was grinning.
“He’s full of shit, isn’t he?” Snake asked.
“I think so,” Sam said. “What he’s saying doesn’t seem to fit with what I’ve heard about the shooting.” He turned and walked back toward the door with the crime scene tape stretched across it, then looked the door over. After a couple of seconds, he pointed to the wood work beside the doorknob. “Looks to me like the door might have been kicked in,” he said, and then he grinned. “I realize you’ve probably never had any kind of experience with that sort of thing, but doesn’t it look that way to you?”
Snake looked closely, then nodded. “Yeah, I’d say it does.” He reached between the strips of tape and grasped the doorknob, gave it a turn and pushed the door open. “You want to look inside?”
Sam grinned. “Can’t,” he said. “The police sealed the door with crime scene tape to keep everyone out.”
Snake grabbed the tape and ripped it down. He wadded it up quickly into a ball, then tossed it down the hallway toward the stairs. “What tape?”
The two of them stepped inside and Sam saw the bloodstains where Samara’s body had fallen. They were at least six feet into the second room, which put them more than fifteen feet from the door. Booker had definitely been full of it.
“If Karen had shot him at the door, at least some of the blood would be in the first room. Whoever shot this man was standing inside the apartment with him at the
time.”
Snake nodded. “Looks that way to me, too,” he said, “but I ain’t no private eye.” He pointed at an open closet near the back of the room. “That’s where they found the gun. It was up on the shelf, shoved to the back.”
Sam walked over and looked into the closet. The shelf Snake referred to was only about five feet high, so just about anyone could have seen the gun laying on it. “Do you know if the closet was open when they found it?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Snake said. “I heard maybe somebody opened it and that’s when they saw the gun.” He looked at Sam for a couple of seconds. “Any of this going to help that lady cop?”
Sam shook his head. “Not much,” he said. “They claim they have a witness who saw the shooting, but if it’s Booker, he’s never going to hold up on the witness stand. Would you know of anybody else who might’ve seen or heard anything that might help?”
Snake chewed on his bottom lip for a couple of seconds, then shook his head. “No, not at the moment. Give me one of your cards, though, and I’ll think about it.” He shrugged. “Never know, I might even ask around, see what I can find out.” He gave Sam a look that seemed to contain a measure of respect. “I appreciate what you did for Nikki,” he said. “She’s had it rough, but she’s a good girl. She had been using drugs a lot, but when she found out she was knocked up, she just quit. That’s not easy to do, but she wants to do right by that baby. You helped her out a lot today.”
Sam handed him a card as they left the apartment, and Snake pulled the door shut behind them. The two of them walked down the stairs together and out the front door. The Corvette was right where Sam had left it, and seemed to be untouched.
Sam turned to Snake. “I appreciate your help,” he said. “Let me know if you come across anything else, okay?”
Snake nodded, but didn’t say anything. Sam turned away and got back into the car, started it up and drove away.