The detectives pawed through the file that contained interviews with the men Peter Hill served with in the US Marines. Then Luca’s cell phone went off.
“Shit! It’s Debra. Uh, hello.”
Cremora smiled when he heard Debra’s barking voice.
Luca said into the phone, “Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.”
Luca stood and tucked the file under his arm.
“I’ll run through this tonight. You go spend some time with your dad.”
Chapter 25
Luca lifted Debra’s arm off his chest and slowly slid out of bed. He picked up his briefs and tee shirt and snuck out of the bedroom. He dressed in the hallway and raised his shoulders as he tiptoed down the stairs. The detective grabbed the fat file off the coffee table and opened it at the kitchen table.
Luca read through an interview with a Private Soto and slumped in his chair. Soto claimed that he thought Hill was a weirdo and mercurial, if not unstable. The private said he witnessed Hill losing his temper a couple of times and getting into at least two fights. Luca took a deep breath and moved to another conversation an investigator had with a marine named Ippolito, who painted Hill as a calm, measured man who was always looking to help people.
Luca felt hope rising as he read through the dialogue of a third marine, a captain named Chavez. The captain praised Hill’s demeanor and had even used him to defuse tensions between the marines under his command.
The detective excitedly flipped the Chavez interview over and read yet another glowing report on Hill from Private Faegan before skimming through the remaining reports. Relieved that nothing negative jumped off the pages, he began to take a closer look when the stairway light came on.
“Frank? You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
Debra came down the stairs. “What in God’s name are you doing?”
Luca flipped the file closed. “Uh, couldn’t sleep, so figured I’d read through some interviews.”
Debra shook her head and smiled. “Not much has changed, has it, Detective?”
“It has. It’s just that this kid, I don’t know, it feels like he’s getting railroaded.”
Debra filled a glass with water. “Who is it this time?”
“Marine named Peter Hill. He’s a suspect in the Wyatt case.”
“And you don’t think he did it?”
“It’s not that. It’s like there’s a rush to pin it on him.”
Debra put a hand on his shoulder and said, “And you’re doing double time to avoid another Barrow.”
Luca nodded, picked her hand off his shoulder, and kissed it. “Come on, let’s get back to bed.”
***
Luca came down the stairs.
“Coffee smells good.”
He kissed Debra good morning, poured a mug, and sat at the table.
“You want something to eat?”
“Sure.” He opened the Asbury Park Press and flicked through the sections looking for the sports segment. When he saw the Monmouth County section, he said, “Just lost my appetite.”
“What’s wrong?”
He pointed to the headline of the lead story: “Murdered Football Star’s Parents to Meet with Prosecutor”
The parents of William Wyatt, who quarterbacked the Middletown Eagles to two state championships, are scheduled to meet with Monmouth County Prosecutor Stanley. The family is frustrated with the investigation into who killed their only son, William “Billy” Wyatt, who was brutally murdered in his home. The May 15th slaying is one of several unsolved murders that have vexed law enforcement and frightened county residents. Prosecutor Stanley’s office confirmed the visit and said they were making progress on the case. However, Stanley refused to comment further on what he termed as an ongoing investigation.
A picture of a celebrating Wyatt hoisted on the shoulders of his teammates was tucked into the text.
“What’s the matter with the parents coming up?”
“Nothing to do with them. These poor people have a right. I feel terrible for them, but I just know Stanley’s gonna ratchet up the pressure.”
“It’ll be fine, Frank. Take it easy.”
“You don’t know these guys, Deb. They’ll hijack the case and pin it on Hill.”
“Come on, Frank, you’re getting paranoid again.”
“You think so? Then why don’t you tell me why they got the search warrant on Hill without telling me?”
Back at his office, Luca discussed with Cremora the interviews of Hill’s fellow servicemen. “Besides this guy Soto, nobody had a bad thing to say about Hill.”
“So what the heck was Gesso talking about?”
Luca shook his head. “I’m getting a bad feeling.”
Luca’s phone rang. “Today? Okay, I’ll see you later.”
Luca pulled up to the house and thought things through again before getting out. He rang the bell, and Vinny swung open the door. When Vinny saw who it was, he quickly stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
“What do you want now?”
“I have a question concerning Peter.”
“Look, this is getting ridiculous.”
“Hold on, you may not believe it, but I’m not convinced your brother had anything to do with Wyatt’s death.”
“So you’re saying you’re on our side now?”
“I don’t take sides. My job is to investigate and develop rock-solid evidence to solve cases. Frankly, the evidence, and I’m talking a bit out of school here, is weak, but that’s not going to prevent Peter from getting tagged here.”
“You mean railroaded.”
“Look, I have my own ideas on who may be responsible, but now I’m confused. You see, we know Peter was in front of the house that night. But there was no proof he was inside.”
“That’s ’cause he wasn’t!”
Luca raised his palm. “That is, until we found a picture frame with his prints on it.”
Vinny leaned on the door. “What are you talking about?”
Luca handed him photos of the frame and the partial picture it had contained, explaining that the torn photo they took from Peter’s room had been in a frame in Wyatt’s house. Vinny stared at the copies and said, “This is crazy. I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
Luca lowered his voice. “I’m really hoping there is. I held off logging it as evidence, but if there’s no believable explanation—”
“They’re going to arrest him?”
“Look, I don’t think things quite fit as far as your brother goes, and you didn’t hear it from me, but the county prosecutors feel he does, and they are, shall we say, anxious to close the case.”
“What can we do?”
Luca pointed to the photos in Vinny’s hand and said, “Why don’t you take these to your brother and see what explanation he has? I’ll be waiting in my car.”
Vinny looked at the photos, nodded, and opened the door.
When the door closed, Luca turned around and stepped back on the porch, ears on high alert. He struggled to overhear the conversation taking place inside, picking up an occasional fragment when voices were raised. Suddenly, Vinny started yelling that if Peter didn’t explain what was going on, he was going to jail for murder. Luca leaned his cheek on the door and closed his eyes. He was unable to fully decipher the exchange, but he was now convinced that Vinny was not colluding with his brother. He went to his car.
Luca pulled out his cell to call Debra but saw Vinny coming down the walkway and pocketed it as he rolled down the window.
Vinny handed Luca the photos.
“What’d he say?”
Vinny twisted his mouth. “Said the picture was his. Mary was wearing the locket he gave her. He said he thought he gave her the picture, frame and all, and it was his.”
“Not how Mary remembers it. Said it was a picture of her and Billy Wyatt. Have to say that what she remembers sounds right. Otherwise, why was it torn?”
Vinny shrugged. “I don’
t know. You know my brother’s got all kinds of memory problems, and he mixes all kinds of shit together. I know it don’t look good, but he didn’t do it. He just couldn’t have.”
“I’m inclined to feel the same way, but the prosecutor’s going to say Peter went to see Billy in a jealous rage over Mary on the night Wyatt was killed.” He waved the pictures and said, “And now this puts him inside at the murder scene.”
“What can we do?”
“We need to understand what happened when he went to see Wyatt, whatever it was that happened, good or bad. If he did it, I’d be wrong, but at least we’d both know the truth.”
Vinny nodded.
“Look, your brother is the only one who can tell us. See what you can get from him. Meanwhile, I’ll be following any and all credible leads.”
“Thanks, Detective Luca.” Vinny stuck his hand in the car. “Really, I really appreciate it.”
Luca shook his hand, said goodbye, and drove off troubled.
Chapter 26
Stanley slipped into his office via a rear entrance as a clap of thunder sounded. In the two days since the Wyatt family met with the Monmouth County prosecutor, Stanley had been fielding questions about the effectiveness of the department. Though the Wyatt’s followed his recommendation, refusing to talk to the press, the sympathy their appearance garnered raised the heat of the spotlight significantly.
Stanley quickly scanned the overnight crime reports. Thankful nothing major had occurred, he grabbed a summary of the open felonies and sank into his chair. There were more unsolved acts of violence then at any time since he assumed office. Frustrated with the number of open cases, he asked the sheriff to organize a series of meetings for that afternoon.
Just before he entered the building, Luca repressed another urge to call Debra. It was about the tenth impulse since he was informed about the emergency meeting. He knew gloating wouldn’t help, so when he could, he’d try to make things different this time around.
Luca smiled at a new secretary and took a second look at her before turning into the conference room. Huddled at the far end of the wooden table, the sheriff and Sergeant Gesso briefly raised their heads in acknowledgment. Before Luca finished his wave, a folder slapped his shoulder.
“Hey Clooney, where’s your sidekick?”
“Hey Matt, JJ’s dad had another heart attack.”
The only other senior detective in Luca’s precinct, Matt Duro, was a good cop but rough around the edges. “Oh well. Hey, heard you’re shacking up with Debra again.”
Luca dropped his active case files on the table and took a seat. “It’s not shacking up when you’re married, bozo.”
Duro sat beside him, whispering, “What’s this? Another dog and pony show?”
Luca shrugged. “I’m hoping against hope they don’t push—”
“You tellin’ me? These fucking lawyers should ride around with us, get a dose of reality.”
The door at the opposite end of the room opened, and a scowling Stanley, followed by two of his associates, entered the room. The prosecutor quickly swapped his frown for a smile and shook his visitors’ hands before taking a chair at the head of the table.
Stanley signaled Gesso, who opened the meeting.
“Prosecutor Stanley is meeting with investigators, on a precinct-by-precinct basis, to review open cases and see what resources his office can provide. He wants to help close as many cases as possible.”
Duro nudged Luca with his elbow.
Stanley said, “As I said in previous meetings, we’re not looking to interfere. We just simply want to see where we are in all open cases and how to move them forward. We’re all here to help. Sheriff Meril also has county resources at his disposal that may help to alleviate the fear the community is in.”
Gesso said, “We appreciate the offer. Any help with patrols or increasing our presence would go a long way in assuring the citizens.”
“Nothing alleviates fear more than arrests,” Stanley said, smiling broadly.
Duro interjected, “As long as it’s not a game called catch and release.”
Weinburg, who had organized the Hill lineup, said, “Fair enough, Detective, but the public notices when we take a suspect off the streets.”
Luca chipped in, “Yeah, but they really notice when due process gets trampled on.”
Stanley raised a hand. “Shall we get back to the matters at hand?” The prosecutor looked around the table. “We need to work together to bring those who commit crimes to justice. My office acknowledges the difficult work you do in the field and called for these reviews to see where we can assist in quickly closing cases.”
“Focus on the low-hanging fruit, so to speak,” Weinburg said.
Stanley cocked his head toward Gesso and the sergeant spoke as he flipped a file open, “We’ve got four open homicides and ten assaults with deadly weapons in the precinct.”
Cline clarified, “And that would be within the last five weeks.”
Gesso pursed his lips and nodded.
Stanley said, “For the moment, let’s focus on the homicides.”
Gesso began the review. “Block, Henry. Fifty-seven years old, white male. Shot point-blank with a shotgun behind the Middletown Arts Center. No witnesses, no suspects at this point. Appears to be a robbery.”
“Shotgun blast should’ve left a lot of evidence.”
Duro jumped in. “Not a pretty scene, blood all over, but until we can find the sucker drenched in it, it’s nothing but a scene out of a horror movie.”
Cline said, “Record states that the victim was a family man, lived in Middletown by the train station, and commuted to the city.”
Duro leaned back in his chair. “Like the summary says, the vic stayed late for some office function and took a late train back. Wife noticed he never came home and phoned it in at around three a.m.”
“We can read, Detective. What I’m looking for is the information to determine where to take the case.”
“Look, the guy lived by the station and would cross through the wooded area to get to his house. Some cretin must’ve been watching the late trains, saw this skinny little guy was alone, and took him down.”
“Did he need to use the shotgun to rob a small guy? Sure there isn’t something else going on? Any problems with addiction or money?” Cline questioned.
“We have no other reports of shotgun use in the area, or county, for that matter,” Sheriff Meril added.
Luca spoke up, “There was a teenager who was robbed as she walked home from the train as well. She said she thought the assailant had a shotgun, but couldn’t be sure.”
“When was that?”
“I’d have to check, but say two to three months ago.”
“Get the case details to Duro. He’ll follow up. See if we can get a description of the man from her and take it from there.”
Stanley leaned back in his chair.
“That’s what I’m talking about. Though I wish these types of exchanges happened at the precinct level, Sergeant. Who’s next?”
“Butnick, Igor, you’ll remember his body was left in the Holmdel A&P parking lot. The thirty-year-old was a member of the Brooklyn-based Russian ring—”
Luca jumped in. “Look, these Russians are shut tight. No one’s talking. A contact of mine tells me it was an inside job—the mob hitting one of their own. This Butnick character was an independent type guy, and who knows? Maybe he stretched things, and the bosses made an example out of him. It happens all the time.”
“I don’t know if we should spend more time on this. Sounds like we’re spinning our wheels, unless it could lead us into one of the top guns in the Russian gang,” Cline said.
Stanley stated, “It’s isolated to the Russian community. It may make a headline with the mob angle, but it’ll do nothing to quell the public fears.”
Luca remained silent. He agreed it would be a waste of time to focus on a mob killing. As far as he was concerned, that was one less monster on the street.
Stanley beckoned with his hand and Gesso moved on.
“Tilup, Eileen, forty-year-old mother of two. Beaten while cooking dinner. Her six-year-old called 911, but Tilup died two days later. Children were traumatized and haven’t been able to give us anything to work with. No signs of forced entry. No substantive leads—a real dead end.”
“Of all the cases, this one has really hit a chord with the public. I can’t tell you how many calls we had on it,” Stanley said.
“Who can blame ’em? I mean, geez, if a mother is not safe cooking dinner in her home.”
Duro said, “I get it, but we don’t have much to go on. By all accounts, Tilup wasn’t playing around, so no jilted lover to focus on. Family seems clean. No financial issues. It’s a sick society we live in. Maybe it’s just a random act of violence—”
Stanley slapped a hand on the table. “Detective, let me remind you that it is random acts of violence, perceived or not, that frighten the citizenry. Our job is not to discount or explain away. We need to bring the perpetrators to justice.”
“The Wyatt case had similar circumstances. Could it be the same guy? Are we collaborating?” Cline asked.
Luca fired, “Of course we’ve collaborated! We’ve jointly reviewed the crime scene data and evidence, but beyond an assault with a blunt instrument and no apparent signs of intrusion, there doesn’t seem to be any connection in the crimes.”
Silence held court for a five-second count until Cline broke it. “Well, that seems like a good segue into the Wyatt case.”
Gesso shuffled files.
“Wyatt, William, a twenty-eight-year-old Caucasian male, beaten to death inside his home on May fifteenth. No sign of a break in.”
“How close are you to building a case against this Hill fellow?” Cline asked.
Luca shifted in his chair and said, “He may be in the mix, but I’m not ready to do anything.”
Cline leaned forward. “What? Unless I’m missing something, we’ve got quite a bit of incriminating evidence on Hill.”
Luca gritted his teeth and replied, “It’s all circumstantial at this point.”
Stanley put both forearms on the table. “Let us be the judge of that, Detective.”
Am I the Killer? - A Luca Mystery - Book 1 Page 16