All The Dead Girls
Page 13
“I wasn’t snooping.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“I was passing by.”
“Who do you work for? Are you a cop?”
Eric shook his head. “No.”
Castor pulled the pendant Eric was wearing from inside his T-shirt and saw that it was a cross. “Who’s Chris?”
“A friend of mine.”
“Is he a cop?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me, Eric. I know he’s a cop. You asked him to find out who texted Nick’s number.”
“He works for the phone company.”
“He’s a cop. You told him to get Veronica’s number from the bus company. Only cops can do that.”
“He has a friend working for the bus company.”
Castor reached into his bag and took out a stun gun.
“If you keep lying, I’ll shock you with this.” He held up the stun gun. “Have you ever been tasered? It’s painful as hell.” He paused. “What police department is Chris with?”
Eric looked from the stun gun to Castor and said, “Plano PD.”
“What’s his last name?”
“Falcone.”
“Did you hear it, Os?” Eric said loudly. “That guy’s a cop with the Plano PD. His last name’s Falcone.”
“Got it,” Osiris replied.
Castor asked Eric, “Who else is involved in this?”
“No one.”
“What was your plan?”
“We planned to trick Nick into attacking Holly. We were going to film it so we’d have evidence against him.”
Osiris said, “And then you were going to shoot me.”
“Why did you want to kill Nick?” Castor asked.
“He killed our friend Maggie Culver.”
“I must say your loyalty to Maggie is admirable.”
“What happened to Holly and Ralph?”
“They ran away.”
Eric jerked his chin at the women and asked, “Are they alive?”
“Yes. They’re asleep. I injected them with a sedative.”
“Are you going to let me go?”
“Of course. If you cooperate.”
“I’m cooperating.”
“What’s Holly’s real name?”
“Holly’s her real name.”
“What’s her last name?”
“Williams.”
“What’s her address?”
“Three four one six Martel Avenue, Dallas, Apartment Three C.”
Castor took a pen and notepad from his bag and wrote down Holly’s address. “If you’re lying, I’ll kill you and your momma. You love your momma, don’t you?”
Eric nodded.
“Ask him whose idea it was to avenge Maggie,” Osiris said.
Castor asked Eric, “Whose idea was it?”
“Ralph’s.”
“Blame it on the dead guy.”
“I’m telling you the truth. Maggie was one of his best friends.”
As Eric spoke, Castor realized he had revealed that Ralph was dead.
“Okay, I believe you,” he said.
“Is Ralph dead?”
Castor sighed. “Yes. But Holly’s still alive.”
He tore off a piece of duct tape and asked, “Does Maggie’s family know about your conspiracy?”
“No.”
Castor covered Eric’s mouth with tape and returned to his seat.
“Do you know this Falcone guy?” Castor asked Osiris.
Osiris nodded. “He’s one of the detectives who questioned me last April.”
Perhaps Detective Falcone needs a good talking-to, Osiris thought. Perhaps we should teach him a lesson. How about we plant two gigabytes of child porn on your personal computer, Detective Falcone? Will that convince you to back off? I think it will.
“What did he say Holly’s address was?” Osiris asked.
“Three four one six Martel Avenue, Dallas, Apartment C.”
In one of his messages, Ralph had said that Holly lived at 3416 Martel Avenue. He had used Holly’s real address?
“Look it up,” Osiris said.
As Castor entered the address into Google Maps, Osiris remembered the text he’d sent to his partner in which he said they would go to DC after he and Harry had murdered Holly. Soon the cops would read that message and learn where he and Castor were headed. Fortunately, that wouldn’t help them much.
“It’s a real address,” Castor said. “An apartment building.”
“Look her up on Facebook.”
Castor opened Facebook on his tablet, searched for Holly Williams in Dallas, and got six matches. None of the six women looked like Holly. He got two matches when he did a search for Holly Williams in Fort Worth, neither of whom was Holly.
“I think she deactivated her account,” Castor said.
She deactivated her Facebook account so I wouldn’t find out that Ralph and Eric were her friends, Osiris thought. Smart girl.
Chapter 36
1
Forty-seven days earlier
Osiris was calm and collected on the way to Plano Police Headquarters. When he was brought into the booking room, he told the booking officer that he wanted to call his lawyer.
“You'll have to wait until you've been processed,” the officer said.
After he was fingerprinted and his mug shot was taken, Osiris asked the officer, “Can I call my lawyer now?”
The officer handed him a phone and he called Ben Weaver, his immediate supervisor.
“Hi,” he said. “This is Black Grizzly. I need your help.”
“What happened?” Weaver asked.
“I’ve been arrested.”
“Where?”
“Plano.”
“How serious is it?”
“Very.”
“What agency arrested you?”
“Plano Police Department. How long will it take you to get here?”
“About six hours.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Forty minutes later they brought Osiris into an interview room and cuffed him to a metal bar bolted to the table. As he waited, Osiris thought about the morons who agreed to talk to law enforcement officers without an attorney present. How many people had been imprisoned because they had said something incriminating during an interview or lied to an FBI agent? Probably thousands, maybe even dozens of thousands.
Osiris had never been arrested before; he found he was actually enjoying the experience.
He was humming the Police Academy theme song when two men in dark suits—he assumed they were detectives—came into the room. One of them had a thick mustache and reminded Osiris of Ron Swanson from Parks and Recreation.
“How are you, Mr. Chapman?” the guy with the mustache said, and sank into the swivel chair across from Osiris. His partner grabbed the other swivel chair, rolled it to the end of the table, and sat down.
“I’m fine,” Osiris replied.
“I’m Detective Chris Falcone, and this is Detective Jack Penney. We’re investigating the murder of Maggie Culver.”
Did these two morons think they could crack him?
“Nice to meet you, gentlemen,” Osiris said.
Detective Falcone opened his pad, then pulled Maggie’s photograph from the folder he'd brought with him and placed it in front of Osiris. “Why did you kill her?”
“I’m not answering any questions without my lawyer present,” Osiris said.
“Okay.”
The detectives exchanged looks, got up, and walked out of the room.
2
When Jim Sanders, the Chief of the Plano Police Department, arrived at his office in the morning, he found a tall, fit man in a black suit and white shirt waiting for him in the reception area.
“My name’s Ben Weaver,” the man said, and showed Sanders his credentials. “I need to talk to you.”
Sanders was intrigued when he saw that Weaver worked for the Central Intelligence Agency.
“Let’s go into my offic
e.”
Sanders told his secretary to hold his calls, and then he and Weaver entered his office.
“How can I help you?” Sanders asked.
“I’d like to talk to you about Michael Chapman,” Weaver said. “He was arrested by your department last night.”
Michael Chapman was the prime suspect in the murder of a young woman. Why was the CIA interested in him? Was he a terrorist?
“Okay.” Sanders nodded.
“In the interest of national security, you must release Mr. Chapman immediately. Tell your detectives to forget him. Do not interview or detain him ever again. I want his entire case file and I want you to erase any mention of his arrest from your records. His photos and fingerprints must be removed from your database.”
Sanders frowned. “He murdered a young woman. We can’t release him.”
Did Chapman work for the CIA? Was he an American spy? Was he one of those agents with a license to kill?
Was Michael Chapman his real name?
“You can and you will. I assume you recorded the interrogation of Mr. Chapman. I want all copies of the tape.”
Had Chapman killed Maggie Culver because she was a foreign spy?
“I don't want to sound disrespectful, Mr. Weaver, but how do I know you really work for the CIA?”
“Call the CIA’s customer service line and ask for Spencer Alves. He’ll verify that I work for the Agency.”
“I don’t know the CIA’s customer service number.”
“Look it up online.”
Sanders opened the browser on his computer and searched for the CIA’s customer service number. The number appeared at the top of the search results.
When the operator answered, Sanders said, “I'd like to speak with Spencer Alves.”
Half a minute later a male voice said, “Spencer Alves speaking.”
“This is James Sanders. I’m the Chief of the Plano Police Department. I have one of your agents in my office. His name’s Ben Weaver. Can you verify that he works for the CIA?”
“Can I talk to him?”
“Sure.” Sanders handed the receiver to Weaver.
“Hi, Spencer,” Weaver said. “How are you doing?”
A pause.
“I’ll be back tonight.”
Weaver listened and then gave the phone back to Sanders.
“I can verify that Mr. Weaver works for the CIA,” Alves said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No. Thank you very much.” Sanders put down the receiver. “Can I ask why you want us to release Chapman?”
“It’s classified. Have you searched Mr. Chapman’s residence?”
“No.”
“Have you collected any evidence against him?”
“Not yet.”
“If you find anything, you must destroy it. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Does Chapman work for your organization?”
“No.”
“What am I going to tell my detectives?”
“Use your imagination.”
Sanders thought of getting the Texas Attorney General's Office involved but figured that would only delay the inevitable.
“Can you provide a written request for Mr. Chapman’s release?” he said.
“No. I can have an assistant attorney general of the United States call you, if you want.”
“Yes, please do.”
Half an hour later Assistant Attorney General Gregory Werner, the head of the US Justice Department's National Security Division, called Sanders and told him to obey Weaver’s orders.
“All right, I’ll have Chapman released right away,” Sanders said to Weaver after Werner hung up.
“Thank you, Mr. Sanders. Here’s my card.” Weaver pulled out his business card and put it on the desk in front of the police chief. The card only had his name and phone number. “If you have any questions, give me a call.”
Sanders picked up Weaver’s card and put it in his inside jacket pocket.
“Don’t tell anyone about this conversation, even your wife.”
3
Later that morning, Sanders summoned Detectives Falcone and Penney to his office and told them that he had ordered Michael Chapman released.
“You have to leave Chapman alone,” Sanders said.
“Why?” Falcone asked.
“He has an alibi. He has nothing to do with Culver’s murder.”
“An alibi? Can anyone confirm it?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“That’s classified information. I wish I could tell you more, but I can't.”
“Jesus Christ, are you kidding me?” Penney said.
“Chief, we can’t leave him alone,” Falcone said. “I don’t think Maggie’s his first victim.”
“And she won't be his last,” Penny said.
“You will leave him alone. That's an order.” Sanders leaned back in his chair. “If you don't like it, quit.”
4
After Detective Falcone hung up, Mark Culver poured himself a glass of vodka and drank it as he paced around the living room.
Was Chapman’s alibi real or fake?
Was Brooke wrong? Had she misidentified Chapman as the man who murdered his daughter?
Culver went to the bedroom door and looked in. His wife, Lea, who had taken a few Xanax this morning, was still asleep. Culver returned to the living room and called Brooke.
“That's bullshit,” Brooke said when he told her that Chapman had an alibi and that he had been released from jail. “It was him. He killed Maggie.”
“Are you sure it was Chapman?”
“Yes. I’m a thousand percent sure it was him. You have to tell them his alibi is fake.”
“Falcone said his alibi checked out.”
“Checked out?” Brooke heaved a sigh. “I should’ve taken his picture. What are you going to do, Mr. Culver?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think Chapman paid off someone in the police department or the district attorney’s office. You should go to the FBI.”
Was it possible that Chapman had paid off someone in the police department or the district attorney’s office? Culver thought it was.
After talking to Brooke, Culver called his friend John Benning, who knew the Plano Chief of Police.
“I’m sorry about Maggie,” Benning said.
“Thank you.”
“How are you and Lea holding up?”
“Not so good. I want to ask you for a favor, John.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“You know James Sanders, the Plano Chief of Police, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Is he dirty?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“The police released Maggie’s killer. They said he has an alibi. I think he might’ve paid Sanders off. Or maybe someone powerful pressured Sanders into letting him go.”
“They let that bastard go? That's outrageous!”
“Can you ask Sanders why they released Maggie’s killer? His name’s Michael Chapman.”
“Sure.”
“I want the real reason.”
“I’ll do my best to get to the bottom of this, Mark.”
“Don’t tell him I asked you to talk to him.”
“Okay.”
5
Two days later, John Benning and Jim Sanders met for dinner at a steakhouse in Plano. When the waiter brought their steaks, Benning said, “The daughter of a friend of mine was murdered a few days ago.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Sanders said.
“Her name was Maggie Culver. Your department is investigating her case.”
“It's a terrible tragedy.”
“I heard that you released her killer. Why?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Michael Chapman. Why did you let him go?”
“He has an alibi.”
“That’s bullshit. He killed that girl. Did someone pressure you into letting him go? Who was
it?”
“Do you really think I’d let a murderer go because someone asked me to?”
“Then why did you let him go?”
“He has an alibi. It may be fake, but we can’t prove it. Besides, we had no case. There wasn’t enough evidence against him.” Sanders took a long swallow of his wine.
Benning put his fork and knife down and leaned forward. “We've known each other for over fifteen years, Jim. You can tell me the truth.”
Sanders looked at him for a long moment, then said, “I’m pissed about this, too, John. We had to release Chapman. That's all I can tell you.”
“Her family may complain to the Justice Department.”
“They'll be wasting their time.”
Chapter 37
1
Maggie had been their friend for many years and they had loved her dearly. They couldn’t let Michael Chapman get away with her murder.
Maggie’s father’s friend had talked to Plano Chief of Police James Sanders about Chapman and had come to the conclusion that someone powerful had pressured him into releasing Maggie’s killer. Sanders had said that there wasn’t enough evidence against Chapman. They believed that if the police had had irrefutable proof that Chapman that had murdered Maggie, they would have told Chapman’s powerful friends to pound sand.
They knew where Chapman lived and they briefly considered killing him as he left or arrived at his house. They discarded the idea because it was too risky: if something went wrong, they might have ended up on death row.
They believed that Chapman would kill again and decided to try to catch him in the act. They were going to film him as he attacked his next victim so they would have incontestable proof that Chapman was a killer. They would stop him before he murdered his victim, of course. It would be lawful for them to kill Chapman while he was attempting to commit murder, and they were seriously considering this option.
They began surveilling Chapman on May 23, a month after he killed Maggie.
2
Eleven days earlier
When will he go on the prowl again? Eric wondered.
He and Ralph sat in their rental Kia, parked seventy yards from Chapman’s two-story Tudor in the affluent Dallas neighborhood of University Park. It was Friday, May 29. They had been surveilling Chapman for six days now, using a different car each day (they had gotten his address from Detective Falcone, who was pissed that Maggie’s killer had been released). In his bag Ralph had a SIG Sauer P320, which he had purchased two weeks before.