Dead and Hating It

by Edward Kendrick

  “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” Mike gave him a hug. “I’m overworked, underpaid—” he grinned, “—and this case is getting to me because I knew, know, Kurt.”

  “What if…?” Brody looked at Kurt. “Where did the two of you go on dates?”

  “To clubs, occasionally. Movies, of course. He wasn’t really big on our spending time running around, as he put it. He said he did enough of that with his job. Oh, oh, the last month before, well…” Kurt took a deep breath. “Anyway, he told me he was thinking about getting a bigger apartment, or a condo, because he was tired of his small place. I thought that meant he was thinking of asking me to live with him.”

  Sage told Mike what Brody had asked, and Kurt’s reply.

  “Did you go with him when he looked at places?”

  “Once. Then he said he’d rather do it alone because I was too picky. I suppose I was, in a way. The two I saw, well, I couldn’t help pointing out small problems with both of them. That didn’t make him happy.”

  After Sage relayed Kurt’s answer, Mike nodded. He tapped his lip then said, “How did he find them?”

  “Through a property management company, he said. Before Mike asks, I don’t know which company it was. He joked about how he could have used Craigslist, if he wanted to spend all his time looking at places a dog wouldn’t use as its doghouse. “

  “Ouch,” Mike muttered after Sage told what Kurt had said. “All right. I guess part of my time tomorrow will be spent calling management companies and hope there aren’t dozens of them.”

  “You think he might have rented a place before he killed Kurt?” Sage asked.

  “I think it’s possible,” Mike replied. “Why go looking if he wasn’t intending on sticking around at least for a while. Hell, maybe he’s tired of moving from city to city. Kurt, how many people did you tell about George?”

  “Honestly, only a couple. You and one of the other photographers at the paper. It’s not like I had a lot of friends. Acquaintances, sure, but no one I was close to. I only told you because you said something about my looking happy, which I was. I thought I finally found the man for me.”

  “Which is exactly how he wanted it, I suspect,” Mike said when Sage repeated Kurt’s words. “Did you ever meet any of his friends or people he worked with?”

  “No. He said his private life was private. That he had me, and that’s all he needed. God, how could I have been so stupid?”

  “You weren’t,” Sage replied, “You met a man who made you feel special and he wrapped you in a cocoon, as it were. I’m surprised he was willing to go out to clubs or movies.”

  “Because I’d be seen with him? They were big clubs, nowhere near where either of us lived, so the chances of running into anyone we knew was probably nil. At least as far as he was concerned.”

  Once again, Sage told Mike what they’d been talking about.

  Mike was about to reply when Brody said, “I’ve got an idea, Mike. If you can find out what places he looked at, and if he rented one, we can check it out without him being any the wiser. At least that way you’ll know if he’s still around.”

  “Good idea,” Sage said, then told Mike.

  “It is. Chances are he won’t be calling himself George Neville, now, but he would have when he was looking.”

  “I disagree,” Sage said. “That might be why he didn’t want Kurt with him, after the first time. If he was planning ahead, he wouldn’t want whoever he talked with to know who he was. As far as that goes, he might already have had a new ID. He’d need it to rent a place.”

  “Kurt, did he go out of town as part of his job, especially within a month of your death?” When Kurt nodded, and Sage told him he had, Mike said, “He’s changed his name at least three times now, and had ID for each new identity. To me that says he knows someone who creates fake IDs, for a price. He might have lied to you about the last trip he took, and instead he went to pick up a new ID.”

  “What a bastard,” Tonio said under his breath, getting nods from his fellow ghosts.

  “Do you think if he’s still around you can find him, Mike, since you don’t know what name he’s using now?” Jon asked. “Not that I doubt your abilities, of course.”

  Mike chuckled when Sage repeated Jon’s words. “Thanks for the backhanded compliment. I’m going to do my best, before he homes in on a new victim.”

  “If he sticks to his pattern, you have two years before he kills again,” Sage pointed out.

  “Or, he’ll start escalating, which, if he did remain in town, might happen. He figures there’s no one who can connect him to Kurt, so he’ll be safe.” Mike looked at where he thought the ghosts were seated. “Okay, guys, we’ll leave it at that for now, until I have more information for you.”

  “Our clue to get out of here,” Brody said, laughing. “So, posse, let’s head home.”

  The ghosts vanished moments later, with Kurt saying, “Sage, tell Mike I appreciate everything he’s doing.”

  Sage did, then, before he could continue talking about George and the murders, Mike said, “Let’s make coffee and watch some stupid comedy. I need a breather from all this, at least until tomorrow.”

  They did, although they turned off the comedy halfway through and headed to bed, instead, where Sage did his best to take Mike’s mind completely off the murders—and succeeded admirably according to his lover.

  Chapter 7

  The New York City detective got back to Mike Thursday morning. The first thing Mike asked, once he’d told him why he was interested in Gerald Nivens, was if he had any pictures of him. After checking, which took a few minutes, the detective said he did, from his driver’s license. Mike asked him to send him a copy.

  “I have another question,” Mike said. “Did you run his prints through the AFIS database?”

  “What prints?” the detective replied. “We brought him in for questioning, but with nothing to hold him on until we checked his alibi, we didn’t take them. By the time we found out the alibi was a fake and went to his apartment, he was gone. When the CSI team dusted for prints, they found a couple of partials that might have been his. That was despite the fact he’d wiped every surface so clean you could have eaten off it.”

  “Did you run them through the AFIS database?”

  “Of course. We got a match to someone named Gordon Norris, who was wanted for a similar type of murder two years previously. To be honest, given the kind of case load I have on a daily basis, I just added it into our information on him and left it at that. I figured he was long gone and had undoubtedly changed his name, again.”

  Mike wanted to say, “How stupid are you?” but refrained. He knew the detective had, in his opinion, been very lax but it was too late to do anything about it. “If you’ll send me the license photo, and any information you have on him, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Will do. Give me your email.”

  Mike did, and then hung up. It took an hour before the information hit his inbox. There was nothing in the written information that he didn’t know already, other than George’s address while he’d lived in New York, and the company he’d worked for, which no surprise was a sales firm. That gave him an idea—something he should have thought of already—and he made a note to get in touch with any of the same type of companies in the city to see if they’d hired someone new in the past few days.

  The driver’s license photo showed a man with light brown, well-styled hair and green eyes. The facial structure matched that of Norris and Neville. Short of getting a nose job and cheek implants or some such there’s not much he can do the change that. According to the license, Nivens was six foot even, which was within the right height range.

  Mike was putting all three photos into a document, so he’d have something to show to the people he wanted to interview at the property management companies, when he got called out on a new case. He finished what he was doing, printed out three copies, and took off. Two hours later he returned, at which point he ha
d work to do on another case, so it was late afternoon before he got a chance to make a list of the places he wanted to visit.

  Not being a total idiot, as he thought of it, he called them first. Working on the premise that George would stick to his pattern and use G. N. as the initials for his new name, Mike asked the first two people he spoke with if they’d had any rentals within the last month—he figured George might have planned ahead—with a last name beginning with N. Both said they’d had several, which didn’t surprise him. The man at the first company said two had a first name starting with a G. None did at the second place. By then, it was almost five, so Mike called back to ask the man if he’d mind waiting until he got there before leaving, so that he could look at some pictures. The man sounded intrigued and said he would.

  “Unfortunately,” Mike told Sage when he got home, “the guy said the two men he met bore no resemblance to any of the driver’s license photos of George.”

  “Do you want me to take over, tomorrow?” Sage asked. “I’m between clients at the moment so I can spare the time.”

  “You’re sure you want to run all over hell and gone?” Mike replied, immediately handing him the list of management companies.

  Sage grinned. “Yep, if the department pays for my gas.”

  “I think I can swing that, as long as you use your police ID for the interviews.”

  “Of course. They probably wouldn’t talk to me otherwise.”

  * * * *

  Friday morning, after Mike had left for work, Sage began making calls. He was horrified when he looked at the list and counted thirty-six companies, not including the two Mike had already contacted. “I’ll be stark raving mad before I’m finished. I hope to hell not all of them rented an apartment or condo to someone with the right initials.”

  He had one thing going for him, he figured. George was in his mid-thirties which would help eliminate the number of people who fit the parameters, and he was male, which would knock out any women.

  As it turned out, by the time he’d gone through the list there were only four companies who had rented to someone who could have been George. Sage put the photo sheet, and the names and addresses he had to visit, in a folder then took off.

  It wasn’t until he spoke to a woman at the third management company that he hit pay dirt. She took one look at the photos and said, “That’s Mr. Garrett. Norman Garrett. I’m sure of it.”

  He’s getting clever. Same initials but reversed.

  “When did he rent his apartment?” Sage asked her.

  She turned to her computer, bringing up the information. “Three weeks ago,” she told him. “He passed all the background checks and paid first and last with a credit card once he was approved.”

  “I need a copy of that, as well as his address,” Sage replied.

  She printed it out, saying, “May I ask why you’re interested in him?”

  Lying, because he wasn’t about to tell her the truth, he said, “He’s a missing witness to a crime in another state. Probably because he was afraid the perpetrators would come after him to silence him. We hoped he’d use his same initials. The photos I showed you were put together by the detective in charge of the case to show possible ways he might have tried to change his appearance.”

  “Clever,” she said. “It worked, too. I hope you get to him before that bad guys do.”

  Smiling, Sage replied, “That’s the idea. Thank you for all your help.”

  * * * *

  “I take it from the look on your face you found something,” Mike said when Sage came over to his desk in the squad room.

  “I did. I have his new name, and address.” Sage handed him the information. “How he passed a background check is beyond me, but he did.”

  “Practice and good contacts,” Mike replied as he read through the information George—who was now Norman Garrett—had given the management company. “Criminals do it all the time. You should know that.” He smiled briefly, adding, “At least I don’t have to call sales companies to see if they’ve hired someone in the last couple of weeks who could be George.”

  Sage nodded. “Now that we know where he is are you going to arrest him?”

  “Not yet. I still don’t have any proof he murdered Kurt.”

  “How are you going to get it?”

  “Hopefully with the ghostie boys’ help.” Mike repressed a sigh when Lieutenant Price approached his desk to tell him he was needed at a murder scene.

  “Take Sage with you, since he’s here,” Price said.

  “Suited up?” Sage asked, meaning wearing full CSI clothing, hood, body suit, gloves, and booties. It was what he normally did when he accompanied Mike to a crime scene. When Price nodded, and since his gear was at home, Sage said, “I’ll meet you there, Mike,” got the address, and hurried out of the squad room.

  “How are you doing on the Foster case?” Price asked.

  “We’ve found Mr. Neville. He’s still here in the city, using another name. Now all I have to do is prove he did kill Kurt,” Mike replied as he got ready to leave.

  “You will,” Price told him before returning to his office.

  * * * *

  “Do me a favor,” Mike said to Sage as he waited for the ME to finish his examination of the body of a young woman that had been found in the back yard of her home. Her ghost wasn’t there, so Sage was getting ready to leave.

  “Name it,” Sage replied.

  “Get in touch with Brody and tell him I want to talk with Kurt. With any luck I should be home in time for dinner, since we know who killed her, according to her neighbor, if not her ghost.”

  “It’s always the husband or lover,” Sage said sourly. “It’s enough to make you wonder if getting into a relationship is safe these days.”

  “Or ever was,” Mike replied. “I think you and I disprove that, however.”

  “We do.” Sage resisted hugging him. Given that he was posing as part of the CSI team, it would have definitely raised a few eyebrows. “I’ll let Brody know.”

  “Thanks.”

  * * * *

  “We have arrived,” Brody said as he and the other ghosts appeared in Mike and Sage’s living room soon after seven that evening.

  “We have visitors, in the plural,” Sage told Mike. “I think they’re joined at the hip these days.”

  “Not really, but all of us want to know what Mike’s found out,” Jon protested.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised,” Mike replied when Sage relayed Jon’s words. “Okay. I’ve found George, who is now calling himself Norman Garrett.”

  “Yes!” Kurt pumped his fist. “Are you going to arrest him?”

  “I can’t, yet,” Mike said after Sage repeated Kurt’s question. “I don’t have any proof he murdered you, Kurt.”

  “Tell us where he is and we’ll find it,” Brody said confidently. “Or not,” he grumbled seconds later. “He’ll hardly be toting around trophies. Maybe he talks to himself and will say something incriminating I can record.”

  “We should be so lucky,” Sage replied, then told Mike what Brody had said.

  “Even if he did, and you recorded it, it wouldn’t be admissible in court,” Mike told them. “I’d have to get a judge’s permission to set up surveillance on his apartment and that won’t happen with no proof he’s murdered anyone.”

  “A definite catch-twenty-two,” Sage said.

  “Exactly.” Mike looked toward where he thought the ghosts had settled. “If any of you have a bright idea how to get George to confess…”

  “We could do what ghosts do best and start haunting him,” Tonio suggested.

  Jon nodded. “Move things around, open and shut doors.”

  “Scare the living hell out of him,” Kurt added with a wicked grin. “It would serve him right. He terrified three of us in our last moments of life.”

  “Payback is a bitch,” Brody agreed. “If we can pull it off.”

  “Okay, now that you’ve had your fun,” Mike said when
Sage gave him the gist of what the ghosts were saying, “let’s get serious.”

  “I was serious,” Tonio protested. “Ask Mike what he knows about George’s other victims.”

  Sage did, saying, “Why do you want to know?” before Mike could.

  “If we knew enough about them, we could make it seem if they were there, too.”

  “How, if you can’t communicate with George and he can’t see you?”

  “I still haven’t figured that out,” Tonio admitted.

  “Recordings,” Brody suggested.

  When Sage let Mike know what they were talking about, especially Brody’s comment, Mike nodded thoughtfully. “It could work, if we can come up with things they might say to him, if they were able.”

  “I can think of several things I’d like to say to him,” Kurt replied angrily. “Like why me? And did it turn him on, making me think he cared about me when he knew he was going to kill me?”

  “We’ll need more than those two,” Mike said when Sage repeated Kurt’s proposed questions. “And each of you will have to have a recorder on you when you do this, so the voices seem to be coming from different parts on the room or apartment.”

  “He’s going for it,” Tonio whispered to Kurt, getting a high-five in return.

  “Sage, what’s Kurt wearing?” Mike asked.

  “I could say he’s naked, since that’s how he was when he died, but he’s got on a pair of jeans, thanks to Brody—or whoever decides clothing is not optional.” Sage pointed up at the ceiling.

  “Good. Kurt, since you can’t pick up or move things, yet, you get to carry a recorder in your pocket to catch everything he says. It’ll be voice activated, so you don’t have to turn it on, and I’ll be listening so I know when to step in.”

  Sage frowned. “Isn’t this going to be considered entrapment?”

  “All I want is something I can play back to him, when I arrest him. Yeah, it’ll be iffy, and his lawyer might have something to say about it, after the fact. But if I do it right, it might get him talking, or bragging about how he got away with murder because there’s no way I can use the recording against him.”