No Mercy

by Torbert, R. J. ;

“Bud doesn't have his gun with him right?”

  He expected Cronin to laugh and say, no but instead he answered,

  “I hope not.”

  The references to Bud Johnson's shooting of Kyle Winters in the groin and O'Connor in the ass during the prior famous investigation would forever create conversation and inside jokes the rest of his career. The two detectives sat down in front of the DJ from Skyline. Paul took the lead during the interrogation, which was the norm.

  Ron Royal, better known as the Master, was a twenty-eight-year-old club mixer and seemed only able to talk about music. He didn't seem to know about anything outside of his ten-by-twenty-foot area where his equipment and tapes were. He was a genius when it came to his playlist, video screens, and speakers.

  Paul showed Ron the video of the man who had made a request on paper to him.

  “Yes,” he said, “he requested ‘Kiss of Death' by Mystic Strangers.”

  Bud perked up.

  “How do you remember that?”

  The Master replied, “I got many requests, and if there is one thing that I remember in my life, it's my music, but this was different. The request came with a $100 bill in it. I'm sure about the song he requested.”

  Paul asked him if he still had the bill on him, and the Master laughed, saying it filled up his tank on his van the next day.

  Paul brought out the photos from the jail and asked him if anyone looked familiar. The DJ shook his head, telling the detectives he had never seen them. Bud asked him if he had seen or knew Alicia Hudson, and again his answer was no. They thanked him and asked him to stay for a while during the interviews. Ron Royal looked at his watch and promptly said, “The Master will wait for a bit, however, time is money, my friends.”

  Bud, never at a loss for words, replied, “Well, then it's good the club is closed on Monday nights.” The two detectives then went into the second room, where Ken Anker from the Pajama Club was ready for them.

  “Please,” he said, “feel free to call me Sir Entertainment.” Paul smiled and replied, “Ken, we have some questions for you. Thank you for coming down.”

  “OK,” the DJ replied with a big smile on his face, “call me Sir for short.” He held his hands raised up in the air.

  Bud promptly replied, “How 'bout I call you Dick, short for Dick Head?”

  Paul hit his partner on his shoulder to get down to business.

  Paul knew Bud's reply stemmed from his annoyance at the request from the DJ to be called Sir.

  Cronin, in the monitoring room, was shaking his head watching the exchange, while Ashley noticed in Room 3 the DJ from the City club now had an attorney in the room with him. He motioned for Cronin to take a quick look and his only reply was, “Interesting.”

  They both went back to Room 2 and turned up the volume to listen in. The questions were the same for Ken Anker as they had been for Ron Royal. The answers were the same too, including the $100 bill for a request to play a song. Yet they were surprised it was a different song title. This one called “The Thrill” by the same group, Mystic Strangers.

  Paul asked the DJ if the song was an unusual request and the DJ responded,

  “Yes, I had never heard it before.”

  “If,” Bud asked, “it was so unusual, why did you have the song available?”

  The DJ was surprised the question was asked, but he answered,

  “Man, in today's technology you can download anything quickly and play it. No big deal.”

  Paul brought out the photos given to him by Detective Cronin, and again there was no recognition of who they were.

  Paul and Bud excused themselves and went into Room 3 with Lawrence Stone and attorney Michael Corbin. ADA Ashley walked into the room to lend some support to the detectives, with the lawyer in the room.

  “Gentlemen,” Attorney Corbin stated, “why is there a need for an ADA to be in the room during a simple questioning?”

  Ashley replied, “I was thinking the same thing about your client”, Cronin smiled behind the mirror as he watched.

  Ashley looked over at Mr. Stone and asked, “Mr. DJ, may I call you Lawrence?”

  The man promptly replied, “My show name is Ace of Clubs. Get it?” He laughed and said, “Ace of Clubs, it's a double meaning.”

  Bud quickly spoke up. “Pretty bold for a guy with his fly open.” The DJ looked down at his fly. The attorney yelled back,

  “That's uncalled for, Detective!”

  Paul whispered in Bud's ear while Ashley touched Bud's arm to calm him down as the ADA spoke.

  “Mr. Ace,” as he looked at the DJ, “have you ever seen this man before in your life? Yes or no?”

  Attorney Corbin stood up. “Don't answer that! What is this? This is not a trial. We are leaving this instant unless you are charging my client.”

  Ashley stood up to be on Corbin's level. “How do I know you are really his attorney and not someone trying to keep him quiet, take him out of here, then kidnap him, and kill him to keep him from talking?”

  Cronin was laughing loudly behind the mirror, enjoying the show. Lawrence Stone looked up at Ashley as he caught Bud nodding yes in agreement to what the ADA was saying and then blew into his finger like it was a smoking gun.

  The DJ yelled “Wait!” as he looked up at the attorney. “Really, who are you?” The attorney just shook his head like he couldn't believe his client could be so dumb.

  Ashley looked at Michael Corbin and said, “Let's just all put our egos aside, sit down, and work this out. Ace here is not going anywhere without answering a few questions, or he will be charged as an accomplice.”

  Corbin and Ashley both sat down as Paul continued to look at the DJ's reaction. The ice was broken as Bud spoke up that he was hungry and they needed to finish up. They all looked at Bud before starting up the questioning.

  Paul spoke first. “Mr. Corbin, who is paying you?”

  The attorney replied, “I am on retainer for the City club.”

  “So,” Ashley said, “the owner, Brian Branca, is your client?”

  “Yes,” the attorney answered, “but Mr. Stone here is an employee of Mr. Branca, therefore I am here to protect his interests and those of the club.”

  “My friend,” Ashley replied, “we were told Edward Larson was Brian Branca's attorney.”

  Corbin replied, “We are both on retainer.”

  Ashley was quick to respond, “We have been in this room for over thirty minutes and have established nothing because of all this spin. Now, let's just ask a few questions and everyone can be on their way.”

  As it turned out, Stone knew nothing. Not even a request was given to him. No money was exchanged, and there was no recognition of any of the photos. Attorney Corbin smiled at the three gentlemen across the table as if to say sorry but that he really didn't care. Ashley got up without even saying good-bye to his counterpart and opened the door to the back hallway to join Detective Cronin in the viewing room.

  “Kevin,” he said, “I think it's OK to let the three DJs leave for now. Besides, we can bring the cleaner from the club in here, and who knows, with any luck Corbin doesn't even know we brought the young man in.”

  Cronin agreed and called Gina to have Chapman escort the three DJs out one at a time. He didn't want them talking to each other. As Chapman was escorting the first DJ out, Cronin got a call from Gina that she had an urgent call from Hansen. She put the call through as Hansen began to speak.

  “Sir, the twelve photographs you sent to us through email, do you have them in front of you?”

  “Yes,” Cronin replied. “Let me put you on speakerphone so the ADA can hear you. OK, go ahead.”

  Hansen began to speak again. “The Jerry Wakefern photo. You had me look for the boyfriends of the victims, including the man Jake Wiley, who never showed up for his blind date with Kate Summers. Well sir, the photo of
Jerry Wakefern is the man I interviewed as Jake Wiley.”

  Cronin slammed his fist on the table and exclaimed, “I knew it! O'Connor is mixed up in all this! Good job, Detective!”

  ADA Ashley yelled into the speaker, “Pick him up!”

  “Yes sir,” Hansen replied.

  “Wait,” Cronin replied. “Hold on. You are at the Lance mansion right now, correct?”

  “No,” Hansen replied, “Ms. Lance is at the school right now, so I am in the parking lot.”

  “Hold on, Detective,” Cronin said as he pushed the mute button. “John, if O'Connor is involved, why? His only beef over the last two years was the money, Deborah Lance, Bud, myself, and the young girl. He's already in jail for life, so Lindsey Wilkerson doesn't mean anything to him. Revenge against Bud and me means something to him, and if money could be the pot of gold for his accomplices, then Deborah could possibly be a target.”

  Ashley shook his head and said, “Pretty thin, but maybe?” He made the statement in the form of a question.

  “Listen,” Cronin said, “he's killing brunettes that look like Deborah to have a reason for killing the target all along. He kills her, he gets revenge on Bud. He kills me, he has revenge on Bud. He kills us all, he gets what he wants with nothing to lose, and how could we prove it with him in jail?”

  Ashley held up the photo of Jake Wakefern and said, “We start with him.”

  The detective pushed the mute button again while Hansen waited.

  “Detective,” Cronin said, “take a walk into the school and tell the principal it's nothing serious but as a precautionary measure you are to remain in the building until school is out. Don't say anything about Deborah at this time. When she drives home, identify yourself and ask her to come to the precinct in the morning before school. Stay with her until Franks relieves you in about four hours.”

  Cronin then pushed the intercom button and said, “Gina, have Chapman pick up Jerry Wakefern. Have him take Officer Dugan with him.”

  Detective Hansen got out of his car and walked into the entrance of the school. He was met by a woman behind a glass partition who requested identification. The schools on Long Island were no different than the rest of the schools across the nation. Shootings across the nation of children in schools had everyone taking precautions. When Hansen flashed his badge, the woman behind the glass paged security, who happened to be an off-duty police officer. Hansen gave the officer general details as a courtesy but told him he would remain in the building as a precautionary measure.

  Paul and Bud moved to another room where the tech man— or music engineer, as he liked to be called—was. Bill Tillman went through the same list of questions as the others. He was of no help to them, and they released him within twenty minutes.

  By this time Gina had escorted the young man that worked in the City club as the service man, maid, or house engineer. Paul told Bud to take the lead on questioning him since he was brought in at Bud's and O'Malley's request. He asked the same questions they discussed with the others, and as they expected there was no information the young man named Rodrigo Hernandez could offer. Then Bud showed the video showing Rodrigo coming in and out of the private room, including the video of Bruce Roberts getting a $100 slipped to him.

  Bud continued, “The video shows Roberts going into the room while you were still in the room cleaning before the girl got there. Tell us what was said.”

  The young man shrugged his shoulders and said, “Nothing, he just gave me twenty dollars to make sure a certain song would play while the client's date was in the room with him.”

  Paul looked anxious. “What song?”

  Rodrigo answered, “‘Alone in Darkness' by Mystic Strangers.”

  Cronin called Gina on the intercom and said, “Make a note to get the lyrics from all three songs and give a copy to myself, Paul, and Bud, please. Also, get Wyatt, who is parked a block away from the Wilkerson house, to be relieved by Franks and O'Malley. No need to notify or bother the family at this point.”

  Ashley looked over at the detective and asked, “Are you taking over the lead in this case?”

  Cronin looked up at him and replied, “You know that will be impossible.”

  Ashley shook his head as Cronin pushed the intercom button again and said,

  “Gina, all these instructions I'm giving to you, make notes and give them to Detective Powers so he is aware of everything, please.”

  Chapman and Dugan reached the home of Jake Wiley aka Jerry Wakefern in Centereach to bring him down to the station, and as they expected, he wasn't there. They walked around the building to peek through different rooms in the back of the house and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Officer Chapman noticed the old furniture in the house and the wallpaper looked like it was from the '70s. Even the carpet on the floor was shag.

  “This guy lives in a time machine,” Chapman said.

  In a split second time stopped. A figure wearing the baseball hat with the mask draped down stepped out and fired his shotgun, hitting Dugan in the face, instantly killing him, and shooting Chapman before he even got his hand on his gun. The man wearing the mask calmly walked around the building and drove off in the squad car, only to park it in a nearby 7-11 parking lot. No one paid attention to whoever got out of the squad car.

  Chapman was lying on the ground shaking, trying to reach his radio. He was bleeding, but he had his bulletproof vest on. Still he was going into shock. Officer Dugan didn't have a chance. There was no vest for the face.

  Bud looked at Rodrigo across the table. “Any other contact with anyone else the night of the murder?”

  “Only,” Rodrigo said, “the man in the bathroom in the private room.”

  The detectives looked at each other as Bud said, “Rodrigo, help us out here. Why didn't you tell us about the man in the bathroom?”

  The young man looked at Bud and replied, “You didn't ask me, but he said he was waiting for his blind date.”

  Paul spoke up. “Did you get a look at him?”

  “Yes,” the young man answered. “He had long hair, slim, 6'1”, maybe 6'2”, about thirty-seven or thirty-eight years of age.”

  Bud played back the video showing the man leaving the private room with the mask on. “Look at his body, his hair, his height. Is this the man you saw in the room?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Rodrigo answered, “but he didn't have a mask on.” Bud nodded as he looked over at Paul.

  Detective Hansen walked over to the classroom where Deborah was teaching and looked in discreetly as he saw the young woman talking to her fifth-grade class. He stayed around the area until he knew her workday would be ending and even checked with the administrative office which vehicle was hers so he could park accordingly. He was getting bored after an hour of this and decided to get back to the car and get closer to her vehicle. He couldn't believe that a woman who had a father worth over $20 million would want to spend her time teaching. He thought to himself, That’s why you have to be dedicated to be a teacher.

  He smiled as he got in his squad car and turned the ignition, and in an instant he was gone. The explosion was so loud that some of the windows shattered in the classrooms, scaring the kids. Calls came into 9-1-1, and they were soon transferred into Cronin when Gina found out it was at the school. Cronin hung up the phone and told Gina to get Lynagh and Healey to the school immediately to pick up Deborah. She was not to leave alone.

  Justin Healey and George Lynagh raced through the streets with the lights and siren blasting to get to the school. Gina called the principal's office to be sure no one left until the officers were there. When they got to the school there were two ambulances and three squad cars of officers from nearby precincts. Healey drove up over the curb and parked near the front entrance of the school. They walked in calmly, found out where Deborah Lance was, and asked for an administrative person to replace Ms. Lance, for she would be com
ing with them. As soon as they got to the classroom, Deborah knew something was very wrong when she saw it was Officers Healey and Lynagh.

  “Is my father all right?” she asked.

  “Your father is fine, Ms. Lance, but you will have to come with us to the precinct,” Lynagh explained.

  “What's wrong?” she asked nervously.

  “All will be explained at the precinct,” Lynagh said as he grabbed her arm.

  “Detective Cronin, Powers, and Johnson are waiting,” Healey added.

  Deborah told her class good-bye and left them with the administrative assistant. The officers politely put her in the car as she started to send Bud text messages. She called her father, who was in Manhattan and said he would be leaving to join her but wouldn't get there for a couple hours. Deborah called Rachelle at Z Pita and began to get choked up as she spoke.

  “Rachelle, they are bringing me down to the precinct. I'm scared, please come, my father can't make it for a couple hours.”

  “I'm leaving now,” Rachelle answered.

  William Lance called Kevin Cronin. Rachelle called Paul and Bud, who were trying to get answers from the boss as to why Deborah was picked up at the school and being brought down.

  “Listen up, everyone!” Cronin yelled, but before he could begin, an emergency call was transferred to him. It was Stony Brook University Hospital.

  “Detective, this is Eddie Sharp, the hospital administrator. I'm sorry to tell you that we have two of your officers here. One is dead; the other is in serious condition with a shotgun blast that the vest only partially caught. Alive is Officer Chapman, but I regret to tell you Officer Dugan was dead before he hit the ground.”

  Cronin sat down as Powers, Johnson, Ashley, and now O'Malley, who had just arrived, were listening. Detective Lieutenant Cronin hung up the phone and looked at everyone as Gina stepped in.

  “Dugan was killed at the Wakefern house, Chapman is in serious condition, and now,” he looked at O'Malley, “Hansen was killed in an explosion at the school. His car was . . . ”

  He was interrupted by O'Malley, who snapped, “Goddamn it! He was with me for ten years, never a problem like this!” He sat down with his hands covering his face.