by Kim Pritekel
Reaching the double front doors, one standing open, she stepped inside. Ally was huddled against the wall on the landing up from the first two steps on the main staircase. She was still crying, as she had been on the phone, which was clutched to her chest. She stared up the long, narrow stairs.
“Hey,” Catania said, reaching out to brush her fingertips over her cheek before she turned her attention to the rest of the stairs. “Call my mother, Ally.”
“Get down, now. I said, now! Do not make me shoot you. On your belly!”
“Fuck.” She ran up the stairs, taking two at a time.
Making sure her badge was visible, she pulled her weapon and slowed once she got to the top of the stairs so she wouldn’t startle the officer and get herself shot. What she saw down the hall made her blood boil.
“I said get down, goddamn it,” the uniformed officer shouted, the muscles in his forearms bulging as he clutched his gun in both hands tightly, his legs spread and slightly bent.
“Hands where I can see them. Now! Do it now,” he screamed.
The officer was to the left of the hallway, his gun pointed directly at Matteo, who was just outside his apartment door, partially bent over, almost in a standing fetal position. He was rocking, his hands on his head, which he kept banging against the doorframe. A low keening sound could be heard. Catania noticed his tan cords were becoming discolored and she could smell the strong stench of urine and feces.
Farther down the hall past the two men was Karen, being held back by a second officer. Catania pointed her weapon at the yelling officer.
“Detective d’Giovanni!” she yelled at the top of her lungs to be heard over the officer who was attempting to arrest her brother. “Stand down, Officer. Stand down!”
“Detective, this man is under arrest and if he doesn’t follow my orders, I will shoot him.”
“You shoot him and I’ll shoot you.” That got his attention and he spared a glance at her, eyes widening when he saw her pistol. “Stand down, Officer,” she said, voice softer. “This man is on the spectrum and has no idea what you’re telling him to do. Now, stand down.”
“Ma’am, I cannot,” he said, loosening his stance a bit but kept his weapon aimed at Matteo.
“What is this man wanted for?”
“Murder, ma’am.”
The air was knocked out of her lungs at the simple statement and she literally had to take a step back or fall down. Swallowing hard, she slowly walked over to the officer. Her light touch to his hand pulled his focus again to her pistol and he lowered his gun, hands shaking.
“Let me deal with him for a moment. You’re about to shoot someone who is scared to death and absolutely incapable of following your commands.” She met his gaze. “I doubt you want that on your record, Officer.”
“No, ma’am. You tend to him, but I’m staying here at attention.” He kept his hands on his gun but had it aimed more at the floor.
“Thank you,” she said, releasing a heavy sigh. Holstering her own weapon, she slowly made her way over to Matteo, who continued to rock. “Matty,” she said, her voice soft. “Hey, bud. It’s me.” She knew it was entirely possible for him to turn to violent in the state of mind he was in, profound fear and confusion, so she knew she had to take it easy. As she got closer, she saw he had a massive bloody nose. “Oh, Jesus,” she whispered. “Call an ambulance,” she called over to Karen. When she saw she wasn’t moving, she felt anger flare. “Call a goddamn ambulance! He’s bleeding.”
She immediately cursed herself. Her yelling had made him fall to the ground, his bottom in the air as he tucked his head in by his knees.
“I’m sorry, Matty,” she murmured, reaching out a hand and just barely touching his shoulder to see if he’d react. When he didn’t fight her, she lowered herself to sit next to him, her hand moving to his back to rub small circles. “Come back to me, Matty. Hey, I bet I can beat you at that zombie thing you like to play,” she said, a smile on her lips, waiting for him to raise his head and argue with her. He did nothing but continue to rock and make that strange sound.
Remembering his bloody nose, she glanced around, relieved to see Oscar standing at the top of the stairs. She waved him over.
“Is he okay?” he asked, looking down at him.
“Oscar, please get me some rags. His nose is bleeding badly.”
He hurried back toward the stairs and down, to Ally she assumed. Moments later he returned, two dish towels in his hand.
“Hey, Matty,” she cooed, scooting aside as she gently pulled on one of his belt loops until he fell to his side, which only made him curl up deeper into the fetal position. Blood was smeared all over his face and had puddled onto the floor. She brought one towel to his nose, careful to make sure his mouth was clear to breathe. She put the other towel on the floor, pressing down so it would absorb the blood from the wood flooring. “Hey, big guy. Roll over for me, huh? I’ve only got one arm and we’ve got to get you into a safe position.”
“The ambulance is here, Nia,” Oscar said softly.
Catania bent down and left a soft kiss on his temple. “They’ll take care of you, big guy,” she murmured. “I love you and I’ll see you soon.”
She pushed to her feet and stepped back by the officer who had lowered his gun completely. They watched in silence as the EMTs arrived, tending to Matteo’s bloody nose as they slowly got him up and onto the gurney, all but picking him up. A few other tenants stepped out of their apartments and watched as Matteo was taken away.
Catania watched, tears in her eyes. Once he was gone. She brought her hand up and swiped at a tear that threatened to fall.
“Detective,” the officer next to her said, holstering his gun. “Are you guys taking over here? We have to go with him.”
She nodded before taking a cleansing breath. “Yes. Go ahead. Detective Riley will take over now.”
“Barnes,” he called to the officer standing with Karen.
“What the hell happened?”
She turned to see Oscar walking toward her and a very shaken Ally behind him.
“I have no idea. That officer said he was trying to arrest him for murder.”
“What?” Ally asked, a hand going to her mouth.
Catania ignored her. She had to get focused and get her mind on the job. “Oscar, call in that we need a couple more officers. We need some folks to talk to Karen and Ally as well as the other tenants here.”
Without a word, Oscar stepped aside and removed his cell phone from his pocket to do her bidding. Catania turned to Ally.
“Ally,” she said quietly, “I need you to join Karen. We’ll have some people come to talk to you.” She reached inside her jacket pocket, rolling her eyes when she didn’t feel a pair of fresh latex gloves. “Damn it.” Everything had happened so fast that morning she hadn’t had time to replenish the supply she always kept either in the glove compartment of the car or on her person. Suddenly, a pair of gray-blue latex gloves were dangled in front of her face. “Thanks,” she muttered, snatching them from Oscar’s fingers.
Catania took several deep breaths before she felt the cold steel of professionalism slide into place, grateful for it, especially today. She noted the bloody rag that was still on the floor from Matteo’s bloody nose as well as some blood that had been smeared on the doorframe. Looking past that, she entered his small apartment.
One of the chairs that straddled the little eating table was knocked on its side and the couch was pushed slightly out of its normal place, about six inches cockeyed. She glanced at the TV, initially startled by the blood-covered woman who was center screen, a scream frozen on her face. It took a second for her to realize it was one of his video games, assumedly paused when he was interrupted.
For just a moment she felt a streak of pride when she saw the bedroom area was pristine, bed made to perfection, all dirty clothes stuffed into a hamper, even if a green shirt sleeve had escaped the lid and was left dangling down the side of the wicker basket.
“Ni
a.”
The tone of Oscar’s voice surprised her, deep and deadly serious. She turned toward where he stood by the cabinet they had worked together to hang for her brother a mere couple weeks before. She ducked her head toward the wall to look into the small space created between the cabinet and the wall, Oscar’s flashlight beam showing the way.
In the space was a large, gallon-size plastic bag with a zipper top. It had been flattened to fit behind, but one piece of the contents was easy to make out with the beam of Oscar’s flashlight. It was a driver’s license and the name revealed the smiling woman to be Anastasia T. Luhan.
“No, no, no, no!” Catania exploded, feeling faint as she felt her entire world was falling out from underneath her. The tears came hot and quick as she stepped away from the cabinet and hidden bag.
“Hey,” Oscar said, moving to her side. “Nia,” he said gently. “Look, partner, either you’ve got to pull yourself together or you’ve got to leave. Kiddo, nobody would blame you if you needed to walk off this case—”
“No!” Turning away from him, she squeezed her eyes shut as she took in several deep breaths, trying desperately to calm herself. Finally, she met his concerned gaze. “I’m sorry. No, I have to see this through.”
He studied her eyes for a long moment before nodding. “Okay.”
“Detectives?”
They turned to see two fresh uniformed officers standing out in the hall just outside the apartment door. “Hey,” Oscar said. “Evidence found in here from an unsolved murder. I need you two to canvas everyone in this building, especially Karen Ross, she’s the owner. She’s the older of the two blond women out in the hall.”
“Yes, sir.”
Left alone again, Catania felt her partner and friend’s gaze on her again. She met it. “Let’s do this.”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Let’s do this.”
Returning to the baggie, Oscar pointed his flashlight beam back into the space, shining it in every direction.
“Matteo isn’t into bomb making or anything, is he?” he asked.
“No. Well, not to my knowledge, anyway,” she added, still in shock at what was happening. Something inside her, though, was refusing to accept this, and it went beyond that it was her Matty. Something felt very wrong. Even so, she pushed it aside. They had a job to do.
“I don’t see anything, wires, any sort of a device, but I just wanted to make sure,” Oscar said, bending down to visually follow his flashlight beam upward along the cabinet.
“You know, we had this thing screwed in tight against the wall, Oscar,” she said. “There was no way this could have been slid behind it.”
“Agreed.” He took a small step back to look at the cabinet as a whole. “Hell, I was worried we’d end up screwing up Matteo’s deposit whenever he moves out because of damage to the wall.”
“Me, too. Okay, so it’s secure?” she asked.
He nodded. “I think so.” He handed her his flashlight.
Reaching in, Oscar took hold of the large plastic bag and tugged, bringing up his other hand to stabilize the bottom as it slid out from its hiding place. “Jesus,” he whispered.
A hand went up to Catania’s mouth as instant nausea hit her. She walked with him as he set the bag on Matteo’s kitchen table. They exchanged a glance before Catania grabbed her phone and sent off a quick text that the CSU team would be needed and then snapped several pictures of the Ziploc bag from different angles before setting the phone aside.
Oscar took the plastic zipper part and tugged it back slowly, the quick tick tick tick tick of the plastic teeth giving way the only noise. The smell was atrocious as he pulled the plastic bag apart, the smell of decaying blood.
Oscar’s hand reached into the bag and slowly brought out blood-soaked material, though the blood was dry. Once he laid it on the table, it was easily identified as a pair of panties. Next came the license, which had been wrapped in its own smaller sandwich baggie. After that was a black plastic bag, the type with round holes cut out as handles to carry purchases from a store. No writing on it, no logo, just plain black. Oscar pulled the bag open, and Catania was surprised to see instant tears spring to his eyes.
“It’s okay, partner,” she whispered, trying to steel herself for whatever was in the bag.
Oscar cleared his throat and took a deep breath before he reached inside and removed a meticulously folded T-shirt, baseball style with the main part yellow and the little sleeves blue. On the yellow shirt front was a cartoon dump truck.
Catania felt her own emotions build as she knew that Oscar was seeing exactly what she was, and that was the beautiful little face of four-year-old Eric Gomez.
Taking a steadying breath, Oscar laid the T-shirt down on the bag, which lay flat on the table. “And finally,” he said, releasing a long sigh as he reached in and removed a large hunting knife, dried blood on the blade and handle.
“That it?” she asked. Oscar nodded, staring down at the collection with a clenched jaw. “I know, Oscar,” she murmured, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”
“Is he capable of this?” Oscar asked quietly, indicating the paused screen of death behind them.
Catania studied the paused video game for a long moment before turning to him, shaking her head. “I can’t see it. I’m not saying that because he’s my brother. I do not believe he is emotionally capable of doing this,” she said, indicating the items on the table. “Let’s look at everything else, see if we find more.”
Catania went through every square inch of that apartment, finding nothing of interest other than a couple of cheesy romance novels hidden under the bed. She couldn’t imagine her brother reading anything like that, but wanted to make sure they were in fact his and not Anastasia Luhan’s.
She came out of the bedroom as Oscar was leaving the small bathroom. “Anything?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. There isn’t a single thing in this place that doesn’t belong or is giving me pause.” He placed his hands on his hips and sighed, looking around.
“Same here. Other than these,” she said, holding the books up.
“Come hai potuto fare questo, puttana?”
They both turned at the sudden yelling in the hall.
“Oh shit.” She almost threw the books at Oscar before she hurried from the apartment, peeling off her latex gloves as she went. She cursed under breath again when she saw her mother shove Karen, the uniformed officer trying to separate the two women. “Mamma!”
“Puttana!” Antonia shrieked, Karen staring at her wide-eyed as she was slammed against the wall.
“Mamma! Smettila, basta,” Catania yelled, grabbing her mother by the shoulders and yanking her away from a terrified Karen. “I said, stop!”
Antonia whirled around at the sound of Catania’s voice and instantly burst into tears, clutching her painfully tightly. “Is no true,” she wailed. “No, I will not believe my Matteo did these things!”
“It’s okay, Mamma,” she murmured, holding her as best she could with her one free arm. “You need to leave. Okay?”
“I’m not leaving my son,” she screamed, pushing at Catania.
“Mamma, listen. Mamma!” Once she had her attention, she cupped her face with a hand. “Mamma, they took Matteo to the hospital. You and Papa go there. I’ll be there later.” She looked over at Ally, who was walking up to them with the officer who had interviewed her. “Officer, are you finished with this witness?” she asked softly.
“Yes, Detective.”
She turned to Ally. “Ally, would you be willing to escort my mom to the hospital? She’s incredibly upset.”
“Yeah, of course.” Her eyes were red and swollen. “Come on, Mamma,” she said softly, taking Antonia by the arm. “Let’s go see how he’s doing, okay?”
She watched them walk down the hall toward the stairs, a small smile on her face as Ally expertly directed her past Matteo’s open apartment door, her voice muffled by the distance as she talked nonstop to her, likely abo
ut food. That was about the only thing that could distract Antonia d’Giovanni long enough to get to out of the house.
Letting out a long sigh, she ran her hand through her hair before turning to Karen, who had moved away from the wall though she still looked shaken.
“Are you okay, Karen?”
“Yes. Nia, you have to know I didn’t want any of this,” she said, indicating the police standing around, and Oscar, who had closed Matteo’s door and was putting up yellow tape to keep curious onlookers out until all the evidence had been dealt with and gathered by CSU. “I had no idea I’d find that, never in a million years did I think I would.” She began to cry, a hand bringing up a crumpled tissue to her nose. “I was just doing my weekly inspection.”
“When did you last do your inspection?” she asked gently. She knew likely Karen had already gone over this with the officer, but she wanted to hear it firsthand.
“Last Friday, like I do every week.”
“And, nothing? That bag wasn’t there?”
Karen shook her head. “No. Nothing was.”
She turned to the closest officer. “I want a full list of every single person who has access to this building and to Matteo d’Giovanni’s apartment for the entire time he’s been here, not just today.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a nod.
“Karen, come with me. Oscar,” she said, leading the way back to Matteo’s door. She moved the tape aside and opened the door, leading her sister-in-law to the cabinet. Karen’s tears began anew when she saw the objects on the table. “Karen,” she said, trying to get her to focus. “You see how the cabinet is now.” She indicated the slight space between the piece and the wall. “Last Friday, or the last time you were in this apartment, was it like that, or…” Oscar helped her push it back to how they’d mounted it. “Like this?”
“Oh, like that,” Karen said with a nod. “Absolutely. It was flush to the wall before. In fact, that’s why I looked behind there today,” she explained, excited. “I worried the thing was going to fall down and tear the wall up in the process. I was going to say something to him but then I saw…” She glanced at the table and turned away, soft sobs following.