“No idea.”
“What about her dad?”
“Not likely. He’s been in jail for the last twenty years. He’s up for parole soon, but he probably won’t get it. The family still lives in town.”
“The family of the victim?”
She nodded.
“What’s he in for?”
“Murder.” A pause. “Double murder. A man and his wife who owned a jewelry store. They weren’t supposed to be there when he did the job. I mean, robbery is wrong no matter what, but he didn’t go in with the idea of murdering the old folks.”
“I understand. Do you know if either Brandy or Brady have visited their dad in jail?”
“No idea.”
“Okay.” A pause. “And you don’t know where Brandy lives?”
“No. Out of the blue, she called me about five years ago just to tell me she was okay. She gave me her phone number. Told me not to call unless it was an emergency. I don’t know if this is an emergency, but I think she’d want to know. I’d want to know.”
“I’ll call Brandy.”
“Thank you again.”
Decker paused. “Do you remember the names of the victims your ex murdered?”
“Lydia and Glen Levine. Levine’s jewelry store. The business was taken over by the son. He was there during the robbery, hiding in the closet, and was the key witness against Brandon and his partner.” A pause. “I know this is going to sound stupid, but I’m going to tell you anyway. My ex and his partner, Kyle, swore up and down that all they did was tie up the couple, that they both were alive when they left. They swore up and down that someone else must have fired the shots after they left. It’s probably bullshit, but I don’t know . . . Brandon was a lot of things. I never pictured him a killer.”
“What did the witness say? The son?”
“That he was there and he saw my ex and Kyle shoot his parents.”
“But you don’t believe him?”
“He could have shot them after Brandon and Kyle left. And, on the stand, it came out that the son was a party kid, that he spent a lot of money, and there was even talk about his parents cutting him off. But since Brandon and Kyle were caught with the stolen goods, it was pretty much open and shut for conviction.”
“What was the son’s name?”
“Gregg Levine. Like I said, he still runs the place.”
“Okay. Were you married to Brandon Neil at the time of the robbery?”
“My last name is Neil. He’s Brandon Gratz. Yes, we were married. That’s why I couldn’t be made to testify against him.”
Decker nodded. “Twenty years is a long time in jail. But it’s a light sentence for a double murder. Was that the recommendation of the jury?”
“Jury recommended life without parole, but the judge gave them twenty each with a possibility of parole. But like I said, they probably won’t get out.” She caught his eye. “You think there’s something to what Brandon was saying, about him being set up?”
“I have no idea.” Decker smiled. “I might want to come back and search Brady’s room again. Would that be okay?”
“Yeah, but not forever, you know. I got plans.” She looked down. “I need the money.”
“I understand, Ms. Neil. Thank you for your time and help.”
“Detective, I may seem a little hard, but please find out who hurt my boy. We weren’t close. Still, no one should get away with murder.” She looked down. “I didn’t rat out my ex-husband. It was my constitutional right not to say anything against him and I didn’t. But once he was convicted, I was secretly glad he didn’t get away with it.”
Chapter 4
“How are you and Officer Baccus working out?”
McAdams said, “Let me call you right back.”
Decker hung up. He bought an espresso at an independent coffeehouse, and as he was walking back to the car from the café, his phone rang. “You okay, Harvard?”
“Just wanted privacy.”
“How’s the new kid doing?”
“She’s quiet. I appreciate that.”
“Anything else?”
“The coroner just left.”
“Anything else about Baccus?”
“She takes copious notes. She was probably a good student. Have you called your daughter yet to find out who we’re working with?”
“Haven’t had time. The coroner didn’t say anything else other than blunt force trauma?”
“Two blows. Either one would have knocked him cold, so the second one was for good measure. She didn’t find any obvious bullet or stab wounds. She’ll know more once she gets him on the slab. How’d the death notification go?”
“Jennifer Neil wasn’t close to her son even though they lived together. She’s also estranged from her daughter, but she told me that Brady and Brandy might be in communication.”
“Brandy and Brady?”
“You heard me correctly. I’m going to set up a date to meet with her. See if she might be more useful to rounding out her brother. Their father, Brandon Gratz—Jennifer’s ex—is serving a sentence for double homicide.”
“Now we have Brandon, Brandy, and Brady.”
“Just be sure to write the names properly when we’re identifying the cast of characters. Brandon’s sentence is twenty years, so he will be up for parole soon. Jury recommended life without parole, but the judge overruled them. It’s odd.”
“Uh-oh, you’ve got that tone in your voice.”
“What tone?”
“The tone that says, ‘Even though this isn’t my case, I’m curious about it.’”
“I am.”
“It’s not only not your case, it’s not even in your jurisdiction, plus it’s been adjudicated.”
“I realize that. I’m just wondering if Brady’s death might have anything to do with the sins of the father.”
“It was twenty years ago.”
“Twenty years ago, you were eight. Twenty years ago, I was a very good homicide detective. It was a long time ago for you, but not for me. It’s worth checking out.”
“But not in the immediate.”
“I agree with you there. It sounds like Brady Neil may have done some dealing in the past. Also, he works in the electronics department. Theft and drugs could also be motives for murder. Anyway, I have a phone number for Brandy Neil. I’m going to call her up and break the news—hopefully in person.”
“Now?”
“Sometime today. He and his sister were close at one time. I found pictures of them together when they were younger.”
“Where’d you find the pictures?”
“In Brady’s basement room. There was nothing there to indicate that he was involved in something illegal, but his mom claims that he always had money. She has no idea where he got it from. I’ll tell you all the details when I see you.” A pause. “When will I see you?”
“Two of the punks you asked me about this morning are coming to the station house—four in the afternoon.”
“Which ones?”
“Uh, hold on. Here we go. Dash Harden and Chris Gingold. Riley Summers will come in tomorrow morning at ten. I haven’t heard from Noah Grand or Erik Menetti. When I’m done over here at the scene, I can drop by their houses and see if the lads are home—ask for their cooperation.” A pause. “Do I have to take the girl?”
“Officer Baccus. Yes, take her with you.”
“Decker, I’m an only child. I don’t share well.”
“Then here’s a chance for some on-the-job training. Go find the lads, but be back at the station house when the punks come in. You and Kevin can take one, and Baccus and I will take the other.”
“She’s not going to be any help to you, boss.”
“I don’t need help, Harvard. I could use a little luck. And if I don’t get luck, I’ll just have to rely on my backup plan.”
“Which is?”
“Lots and lots of hard work.”
On the station house computer, Decker plugged in “Homicide Lydia and G
len Levine.” As expected, there were hundreds of references in the general media as well as in-house police information. The original files were probably now archived. Plus, it was going to take time to go through all of it, and since he had a genuine homicide to deal with, Decker knew where his obligations lay.
He picked up the phone and called Brandy Neil. A few rings, and then it went to her message line. He left his name, his rank, and his phone number—cell and station house—and then hung up. He was about to phone his daughter when something on his computer screen caught his eyes.
One of the papers—the Hamilton Courier—had offered up a quote from the lead investigator of the Levine double murder case.
Victor Baccus.
Decker stared at the twenty-year-old article. Nabbing two murderers responsible for a double homicide could make a career in a town the size of Hamilton.
It’s not only not your case, it’s not even in your jurisdiction, plus it’s been adjudicated.
He realized he was still holding the phone. He put in a call to Cindy’s cell. When she answered, he said, “Do you have a moment?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Decker waited a beat. “Do I sound worried?”
“You don’t usually start out a call with ‘Do you have a moment?’”
“You’re right. Hi, princess, I love you. Do you have a moment?”
Cindy laughed over the line. “Around five minutes. What’s up?”
“We found a body here in Greenbury, but it’s possible that the murder took place in Hamilton—”
“You want to know if you should cede jurisdiction?”
“Does that sound like me?”
Another laugh. “Go on.”
“Of course, I’d like full access to Hamilton’s files. The police chief was willing, but he had an arm-twisting request.”
“Which is?”
“Introduce his officer daughter into the wonderful world of Homicide—”
“Oh, wait. I know where this is heading. Hamilton Police. Lenora Baccus.”
“Yes. Apparently, she worked with you.”
“She did. Did she tell you why she left the department?”
“Sexual harassment. I’m not calling to debate the validity of the charge, but I would like your opinion of her. She told me she was on your team that took down a major GTA ring.”
“That is true.”
“What did you think of her?”
“Hard worker, very diligent, willing to learn, good firearm skills, good skills with people, and a great team player.”
“That’s an endorsement. Anything to add?”
“Like is there anything negative?”
“Whatever you want to add.”
“As an original thinker? Not so much. And, truthfully, not the most robust personality on the force. No woman should have to take any kind of sexual harassment, including rude comments, but there are realities of life. She’s very good-looking. I would have thought she might have been a bit more prepared. The constant comments were obnoxious, but they seemed to blindside her. Like she’s never had unwanted male attention.”
“Maybe she was sheltered.”
“Could be, but c’mon. Like I said, we women shouldn’t have to put up with this crap, but it helps if you’re the type of person who can ignore the shit and just get on with the job. Life is not one big safe space.”
“I’m surprised about that, especially since Baccus came from a police family.”
“I don’t think her father was Mr. Supportive about her career choice.”
“Sounds like someone else we know,” Decker said.
“Daddy, once you were reconciled to my stubbornness, you were not only supportive, you were a wonderful source of information and knowledge. You were tough on me at times, but I always knew where the criticism came from. Whenever these jerks get to me, I hear your voice in my head. Just do the friggin’ job.”
“You’re still having to deal with jerks?”
“All the time, Dad. But the good news is, I’m starting to outrank all of them.”
Decker beamed. “What do you think my approach with Baccus should be?”
“Give her specific assignments—look up this, call that person, check out this alibi.”
“Questioning a suspect?”
“Never seen her do it. My intuition is it’s not her natural forte. But you’re a great teacher. She’s lucky to have you as a mentor.” A pause. “I’ve got to go.”
“Thank you, princess. I love you to death.”
“Right back at you, Daddy.”
Decker decided to try Brandy’s number again. This time, the line clicked in with a human voice. He said, “Brandy Neil?”
“Who is this?”
“Detective Peter Decker, Greenbury Police. Is it possible that we could meet in person?”
“Why? What’s this about? How’d you get my number?”
“From your mother.”
“Why?”
“It’s about your brother, Brady.” A long pause over the line. Then a longer pause. “Ms. Neil?”
“It has to be bad news.”
“Could we meet?”
“Is he dead?”
“I’m afraid so, yes.”
“Murdered?”
“It looks that way.”
“Ah, Jesus!” Swearing over the line. “How?”
“I’ll tell you everything I know. But it would be helpful to meet in person.”
“Where? Hamilton police station?”
“Uh, if you could, I’d rather meet at the Greenbury station. Your brother died in our jurisdiction, so we’re running the investigation. I don’t want to intrude on Hamilton’s space. If it’s too far for you to travel, I’ll come to you.”
“I almost never go to Greenbury. It would take me like a half hour to get there.”
“Like I said, I can come to you.”
“No, I’d rather meet at a police station, no offense. I don’t know who you are.”
“I think that’s prudent of you. When can you come down?”
“Not now. It’s two o’clock. I’m still at work. I suppose I can make it around seven.”
“That would be fine.” He gave her the address of the station house and his cell number. “I’ll see you around seven. Please call if there’s any change of plans. And thank you very much.”
She spoke before he could hang up. “Where is my brother now?”
“He’s still at the morgue.”
“And if you got my number from my mother, she must know, right?”
“She does.”
“Ah, Jesus! This is just horrible . . . just terrible.”
“It is terrible. I’m very sorry.”
“Did he suffer?”
“No,” Decker told her.
Not a lie, not the truth. He didn’t know one way or the other, and since he didn’t know, there was no reason to cause her any further misery.
Chapter 5
Dash Harden sat in the chair. His manner said defiance while his face said fear. He was used to vandalizing—a nonconfrontational crime—and now, he was face-to-face with the enemy. He was eighteen and stood about five eleven, his body slowly turning into a man’s, with the wiry arms giving way to actual muscle. Light brown hair and a face spangled with freckles and acne. His hair was cut short, his features more bulldog than eagle. He kept insisting he had been home all night. Since Decker didn’t have any proof that Dash had vandalized, he told Lennie Baccus that he’d be stretching the truth a little. Her job was to listen and take notes, especially the nonverbal reactions, because the interview was being recorded. Concentrating on things like the kid’s posture, his fidgetiness, what he did with his hands, eye contact with Decker, eyes looking up or looking down or away. While words were easier to understand superficially, gestures almost always told the truth.
“Dash, it’s the third time those mailboxes have been overturned,” Decker said. “We installed a closed-circuit TV camera after the
second time.” That part was true. “You and your friends were caught on tape.”
Shaking leg. “I wasn’t there.”
Decker had yet to tell the kid about Brady Neil. He and Dash had been at it for twenty minutes, so it was time to turn up the heat. “Do you really think I’d go through all this trouble to interview you here if it was just about a couple of broken mailboxes? Well, more than a couple of broken mailboxes. Anyway, that’s not what I’m after.”
Harden continued to squirm. “I wasn’t there.”
“Yes, you were.”
Sweat on his forehead. “I swear I wasn’t.”
“You were there.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“I saw you on CCTV.”
A long pause. “It wasn’t me.”
“Okay, it wasn’t you.”
The kid’s face brightened. “I can go?”
“No, you can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Because I saw you on tape, and what I saw matters more than what you say.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“Dash, your buddies and you have been vandalizing mailboxes, walls, street signs, and buildings in Greenbury for a long time. Then you run back to Hamilton, where you think you’re safe. Not this time. Just tell the truth and you’re done here.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“Yes, you were.” Decker poured the kid a drink of water. “Son, the first one of your gang to tell the truth gets the most leniency, because you’re all going to be charged. I know that you know about the dead body. That means I bump up the charges from destruction of property—federal property—to murder—”
The kid jumped out of his seat. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“I believe you, Dash.” The kid was quiet. “Come on. Sit back down.”
The kid cooperated.
“Tell me what you know about it.”
More sweat on his pimply forehead. “Sir, I don’t know anything about a dead body.”
Decker looked at Lennie and gave her a slight eye roll. “Dash, I think you’re a good kid. You’re the first one who came in to talk to us. And that’s why you’ll get leniency if you start telling me what really happened. If you don’t talk, you’ll force my hand. Then I go over to the next interview room, where my colleague is making the same offer to Chris Gingold.”
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