“Look, my job is to gather the evidence and present it to you for prosecution. I’ve been around long enough to know the only good case is one where the evidence holds up in—”
Gesso interrupted, “Why don’t we go through it? The suspect, Peter Hill, was seen in front of the Wyatt house on the night of the murder. Hill has a long history of tension with the victim, including finding out earlier that night that Wyatt was going to marry his old girlfriend. Hill doesn’t have an alibi, claiming he cannot recall the events of the night in question due to the injury he sustained serving as a marine.”
“Got to be a bit careful with a marine these days,” Weinburg offered.
“Can we prove he was inside the house?”
Luca knew his badge was on the line. “There’s another suspect, Jimmy Johns.”
“I think circumstantial was the word you used, Detective,” Stanley said.
“We need time to focus on Johns. A meth user with an endless need for money. He was at Wyatt’s place of work, knew when he was getting paid, in cash, that is. Was seen by a neighbor cutting through yards on Wyatt’s street the night of the murder.”
“Weak motive. Is that all you have?”
“Some partial prints from the scene match his.”
“Nonsense, Luca! That report was inconclusive,” Cline said.
“But it didn’t exclude Johns. Plus, they came from the same brand of cigarettes he smoked.”
“I think we have to focus on Hill. Who knows, maybe we can solve two of these at the same time.”
Luca shook his head. “There’s nothing that links the cases.”
“But I think we’d all agree that on the surface, they seem similar. It’s the public’s perception I’m concerned about,” Stanley said.
Luca said, “With all due respect, sir, I’m concerned with solving homicides, not the public’s perception.”
Stanley said, “Why not hang a charge on him and bring him in? See what we get out of him?”
Luca stopped grinding his teeth to answer. “Did anyone read the damn medical reports? This kid’s fragile. We can’t traumatize him. You’re so worried about the public? Think about jerking around a wounded veteran and how that’ll play.”
Stanley steepled his hands. “Did we get anything from the search?”
“Nothing back from the lab. I checked this morning,” Weinburg answered.
Stanley looked at Luca. “I’ll hold off till the lab results come back, but I don’t see any reason not to bring him in. We’ll just have to be delicate and consider his service as a marine.”
Luca eyes narrowed as he said, “The reason is we have to be sure. Your office has a history of pressuring us, and that leads to big damn mistakes.”
Stanley straightened in his chair and looked at Gesso, who frowned and said, “Barrow case.”
Stanley pointed a finger at Luca. “Look here, Detective, that was way before my time, and I resent your insinuation.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s how it feels from my chair. It feels like we’re rushing to pin it on Hill. He may end up being the guy, but I’m not comfortable with it at all.”
“Well, get comfortable, before someone else is bludgeoned to death,” Weinburg said.
Luca shot out of his chair, and Gesso interceded, saying, “That wasn’t necessary, Marc.”
“You’re right. It was out of line. I’m sorry, Frank.”
Gesso steered Luca into his chair and said, “Let’s put a halt to the dick measuring contest and move on! We’ve got more cases to review.”
Chapter 27
Luca slammed the door and flopped onto the couch. As he kicked off his shoes, Debra came in from the kitchen.
“What’s the matter?”
Luca peeled off his socks. “Nothing.”
Debra knelt down. “Don’t tell me nothing. You been drinking?”
“Had a couple with JJ. Fucking rough day, that’s all.”
“What happened? The Wyatt case?”
Luca frowned. “I had to turn in some evidence against Hill. Now he’s done. The full weight of the system’s—”
“But if it’s evidence against him, what’s the problem?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Cut the shit, Frank!” Debra got up and started walking away.
“Okay, okay, sorry, it’s just this case is getting to me.”
“I know you’re frustrated, but bringing this home certainly isn’t gonna help us.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him off the couch. “I made you some linguini and clams, but it’s probably paste by now.”
As Luca tucked into a bowl of pasta, his cell rang. Debra frowned when he pulled it out.
“I gotta take it. It’s JJ.”
Luca said hello, listened, grunted a protest, and hung up.
“That was fast.”
“Yeah, JJ wanted to let me know Stanley is drafting an arrest warrant for Hill.” Luca got up from the table.
“Whoa, you’re leaving?”
“Nah, getting a bottle of wine.”
***
Luca sat at his desk nursing his third cup of java when JJ came in.
“Frank, you know they’re bringing in Hill this morning.”
Luca snapped his wrist. “Stanley’s cracking the whip.”
“Cut him a break, Frank. There’s a lot of evidence—”
“Get off it, J! You know there’s only one way to work a case. We can’t have a different script because the press is looking or people are scared. Goddamn it, I’m scared.”
Cremora said, “What the fuck, Frank?” as Luca’s phone rang.
Luca said hello and then, “Of course I still want to know.”
He jotted down a note and said, “Thanks, man. I’ll be down to pick up the photos.”
Luca hung up the phone, shot out of his chair, and punched the sky.
“What’s up, Frank?”
Luca smiled and said, “That was the lab! They were able to enhance the video feeds from the 7-Eleven. Got a partial plate number.” He handed the note to JJ. “Run these numbers by your guy at DMV. See who owns any possible plate numbers.”
Luca grabbed his jacket and said on the way out, “And the best part is, Gianelli’s worked his magic and got an image of a forearm tattooed with a scorpion. Sound like anyone we know?”
“You kidding me?”
“Nope, and remind me we owe Gianelli a dinner.”
Chapter 28
Luca showed the enhanced photos to Cremora and said, “It’s got to be Johns. I can see the bastard sitting in front of me.”
“And how. I don’t get all these tattoos, man. Geez, even the girls are getting ’em, and some of them are frigging huge.”
Luca shook his head as he pinned one of the photos to the case board. “Ain’t gonna look pretty when they hit their forties.”
“Trashy, if you ask me.”
Cremora answered his phone and hung up quickly. “They got Johns. He’s on his way in.”
Luca watched his suspect stare at the tabletop as he dragged deeply on a cigarette. Clean shaven, Jimmy Johns wore a nasty scowl as he picked at a fingernail. Cremora sided up to his partner and said, “You can almost see the chip on this guy’s shoulder. How you want to handle this?”
The detectives quickly agreed on a strategy and entered the interview room. Johns didn’t raise his head and continued smoking.
“Mr. Johns, I’m sure you remember me. I’m Detective Luca, and this here is my partner, Detective Cremora. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Johns crushed his cigarette out in the plastic ashtray and coughed, “I got nothing to say.”
“Look, we can do this the easy way, or if you’d rather make it hard, we can lock your ass up.”
Johns cleaned his glasses with his shirt. “For what? I didn’t do nothing.”
Cremora said, “I don’t know yet, but we’ll find something, right Frank?”
<
br /> Luca narrowed his eyes and nodded.
“You fucking pigs think you can do what you want.”
Cremora said, “You know, Frank, this guy’s no fool after all.”
Luca said, “Look, you answer some questions, and if we’re satisfied, you’re outta here.”
Johns dug out a pack of Newports. His shirtsleeve receded from his wrist, revealing the head of the scorpion. Luca leaned in for a closer look before Johns’ arm dropped to his lap. The detective flipped open a file and compared his mental image against the grainy lab photo.
Johns hacked and brought up some phlegm. “Well, you going to ask your fucking questions or not?”
Luca hit the record button and covered the formalities before asking, “Mr. Johns, do you shop at the Keyport 7-Eleven on Broad Street?”
Johns tapped a cigarette on the table. “Sometimes. What’s that, a crime these days?”
“When you do go there, how do you get there? Do you walk?”
John lit the cigarette. “Walk? You walk across 36 and you’re rolling the dice, man.”
“So you drive?”
Johns nodded, and Luca stated his affirmation for the record.
“Did you visit that establishment on the morning of May nineteenth?”
“I donno, could’ve. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is Billy Wyatt’s credit card was used that morning at the 7-Eleven, and he had already been murdered.”
Johns took a long drag. “So what’s that got to do with me?”
Cremora opened a file and slid a photo across to Johns. “That’s a surveillance shot of your car just before the card was used.”
Johns picked up the picture, studied it a second, and tossed it Frisbee like back to Cremora. “Maybe it’s my car, but I wasn’t driving it if it was. I lend it out a lot.”
“Yeah? Like to who?”
Johns pulled his collar away from his neck. “A lot of people.”
Luca grabbed another photo out of the file. “Well, explain this then.”
Johns’ eyes hit the picture and bounced to his arm before going back to the photo. He sat back and said, “And what the fuck is that supposed to be?”
“Why don’t you roll up your sleeve, Jimmy boy?” Cremora challenged.
Luca arranged four pictures in front of Johns and said, “This is your car coming in the lot. This guy here,” Luca tapped a photo, “we believe is you walking in, but kudos for trying to keep your identity hidden. Problem is, your scorpion tattoo gave you away, my friend.”
Johns puffed incessantly but said nothing.
Luca said, “Now, you going to admit to using Wyatt’s credit card?”
Johns swiped a hand across his mouth as he suppressed a cough. “I ain’t admitting to nothin’. Even if I did, and I ain’t saying I did, I got nothin’ to do with his being dead.”
“Yeah, sure, you’re just an innocent little boy,” Cremora said.
Luca asked, “Look, help us out here. We have a witness who said you were seen near the Wyatt house the night of the crime. Now we have you using Wyatt’s credit card. How do you explain it?”
Johns crossed his arms and coughed before leaning back in his chair. “I ain’t got to explain nothing. I want a lawyer.”
“You’re sure gonna need one,” Cremora said.
Luca stood and said to his partner, “Read him his rights and book him on identity theft and fraud, for the time being.”
Chapter 29
“I can’t believe that damn Mulberry! Fifteen hundred bucks? Is he fucking kidding?”
“I know it’s crazy. Johns got an arm-long rap sheet.”
Luca plopped into his chair. “You gotta wonder whose side these judges are on.”
Cremora shook his head. “Yeah, combined with the sleazy lawyers these scumbags hire.”
“You’re telling me? That Brown is one smug, arrogant bastard. He’s too close to Mulberry, if you ask me. He knew he’d spring Johns, otherwise why would his sister be there with the cash to make bail?”
“I know you didn’t like this mutt Johns from the get-go, and now I’m feeling the same way about him.”
Luca cupped his chin. “Every frigging turn with this Johns just burns me up. You think I’m fixated, but I’m telling you, this creep is the one who offed Wyatt.”
“That’s a leap, Luc, so take it easy, pal.” Cremora grabbed his jacket. “I’m heading to court, the Sikorsky case.”
“Nail the bastard, will you?”
Cremora flashed a thumbs-up and hustled out.
Luca sighed heavily and reached for his in-box. He pawed through a couple of reports and bolted upright when he read about an arrest made by an Officer Sanchez.
***
Luca helped Debra clear the plates and snuck a look at his watch.
Debra said, “That new HBO comedy you like is on tonight.”
“Ah, what time?”
“Eight.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got to do something, but I’ll be back before you know it.”
“What you got to do at this hour?”
“I gotta run down to the station to speak with an officer named Sanchez. Shouldn’t take long.”
“Now?”
“He works the overnight shift.”
“Can’t you get him when he comes off?”
“It’s important, Deb, and you never know when something comes up, and then they’re in court.”
“Is it the Wyatt case again?”
Luca pulled his lips in and nodded.
Luca hung out by the locker room until a rosy-cheeked cop approached him.
“Sarge said you wanted to speak with me.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Luca extended his hand. “Detective Frank Luca.”
“Yeah, I knew who you are. I’m Emilio Sanchez. What’s up?”
“It’s about an arrest you made two nights ago on Main Street in Keyport.” Luca unfolded a copy of the arrest record.
Sanchez skimmed it. “Sure, what about it?”
“The license he had belonged to the victim on a homicide I was working.”
“Yeah, I remember, but they arrested that kid, right?”
Luca tilted his head. “Yeah, well. Can you tell me who else was in the car?”
“Couple of guys. They were pissed, had to walk when we impounded the car,” Sanchez said.
“I didn’t see any names on the report. You get their names?”
“Uh, no, they were clean.”
Luca pulled out a photo of Johns. “This guy one of them?”
Sanchez examined the picture. “Not sure, don’t think so.”
“I didn’t see an interrogation transcript.”
“Yeah, well, it was end of the shift and—”
“The end of the shift? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Hey, what’s this all about?”
Luca stared at him and counted to ten.
“Look, I gotta go on duty. You want anything more, go ask the sarge.”
Luca grabbed a cup of coffee and jumped into his car. He checked the address on the arrest report and made a beeline to Keansburg. Luca smacked the steering wheel as he passed the street Johns lived on and counted four blocks to Rosa’s residence.
Luca flung the car door open so hard it bounced back at him and bruised his shin. He rubbed the welt and took a few deep breaths before marching up the walkway.
A grizzled man in his seventies pulled open the door.
Luca held out his badge. “Looking for Mike Rosa.”
The man nodded slightly, left the door open, and disappeared back into the house. Luca poked his head into the dark house, but all he could see was the light from a TV. Luca stepped back and leaned against a rusty railing when he heard footsteps.
Tee shirted, Mike Rosa looked like a slab of granite. The cigarette dangling from his lip belied the athletic aurora he projected. He stepped onto the small porch and shut the door as Luca showed his credentials.
“What d’ya want?”
“You used a driver’s license belonging to one William Wyatt two nights ago.”
Rosa nodded as he took a drag.
“Where’d you get the license from?”
“I bought it. You see, I lost mine in a DWI, and I need to get to work and—”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your story except how you came in possession of the Wyatt license.”
“What’s it mean to you?”
Luca poked his finger into Rosa’s concrete chest. “Look, I ask the questions, and you give the answers. You got that?”
Rosa dropped his cigarette to the ground, and Luca’s neck hairs rose. Rosa crushed the butt out and spoke, “I bought the fucking thing for twenty bucks. I thought it was a good way to—”
“From who?”
“Guy lives a couple blocks away. He’s always fencing shit.”
“How about a name?”
“Jimmy, Jimmy Johns.”
Luca felt his lips curl up. “You sure?”
“Yeah, of course I’m sure, man. Look at all the shit I got from it.”
Chapter 30
My lawyer’s offices were on the second floor of a low-slung building on Route 35. We sat in the waiting area, declining coffee twice as we leafed through a pile of magazines. After thirty long minutes, Edwards’s energetic secretary came out and led us to a small conference room as she chirped away.
Eddie Edwards offered his hand.
“Hello Peter, Vincent. Nice day today, huh?”
I stared at his white hair and said hello as he pulled a chair out for me.
“Sit, sit. You boys want something to drink, coffee, water?”
Vinny said, “Nah, we’re good.”
Edwards fell into his chair and reached for the phone. “I’ve asked Johnny Scotto to join us. Is that okay with you, Peter?”
I shifted in my chair and looked at my brother.
Vinny asked, “What’s his area of expertise?”
“Primarily white-collar cases, but Johnny’s got top-notch instincts to go along with extremely helpful contacts in the prosecutors’ offices.”
Instincts? If my life is gonna hang on instincts, my instinct it to run. I wondered how fast I could run. Was I fast in high school? Who was the track and field coach? I think he was a tall guy. Yeah, I think so. Was it Mr. Chavez?
Am I the Killer? - A Luca Mystery - Book 1 Page 17