Walking Shadows

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Walking Shadows Page 9

by Faye Kellerman


  “At home, in bed with my husband.”

  “And last night?”

  “Same answer. He can verify that if you want him to.”

  “I’m sure he can. What does your husband do?”

  “He owns a real estate company—does business all over the area. Why?”

  “Sake of completeness. With that in mind, where do your other siblings live?”

  “Matthew lives in Columbus, Ohio. Martin is in Seattle. Ella’s in Brooklyn. She’s a tattoo artist. The rose on Dana’s shoulder was courtesy of her.” Yvonne regarded Baccus. “I believe you knew her.”

  “She was a grade above me.”

  “Ah, so you do talk.” She made a face. “Then you’re twenty-seven.”

  “I am. I remember when it happened. I’m very sorry.”

  The sudden sympathy caught Yvonne off guard. Her eyes moistened. “Ella probably suffered the most. She was younger than Martin by eight years. She was shipped out to my aunt, who couldn’t deal with all the psychological ramifications of such a massive, horrid event. Later, after Gregg married, he brought her to live with him. It was difficult on Maran, his wife, but she really did try. Then Ella got mad and moved in with me for a while. My husband was fairly tolerant, but Ella grew harder to manage. We tried our best, but we were grieving ourselves, as well as trying to run the business and live life. She fell into the wrong crowd. Now she seems to be doing a little better. At least she has found an outlet for her artistic talents other than graffiti.”

  Yvonne’s face tightened. “Do you have any idea what horrible old wounds this opens up?”

  “I’m sorry for your loss and for your pain,” Decker said. “I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. And I know you’re still suffering. But I’m just doing a job. Brady Neil was murdered, and I realize that this is bound to affect every member of your family—especially once the press gets wind. I’m surprised they haven’t been pestering you already.”

  Yvonne was silent.

  “You should be prepared for some phone calls,” Decker went on.

  “Haunting us even after the little shit died.”

  “It’s terrible. I’m sorry. I need your siblings’ phone numbers just to verify where they were when Neil died. Can you get them for me?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Thank you. And when do you think we could talk to your brother?”

  “Call him up. I’m not his secretary.”

  “If you could get me his number, it would help.”

  She turned to Lennie. “Why don’t you just ask your father?”

  “I don’t talk about my cases, even to my father. But if it’s bothersome, I’ll find out Mr. Levine’s number for Detective Decker.”

  “Oh fuck! I’ll give it to you!” She regarded the monitors. “Dana’s back. I need to open up.” She stood. “I’m sure this wee conversation has not been very illuminating.”

  Decker stood and Lennie followed. He said, “Thank you very much for your time, Mrs. Apple. And if you think of anything that might be important, please call.”

  “Important about what? Helping you find out who killed Brady Neil? If I knew who it did, I’d give that guy a medal.”

  Chapter 11

  When they were in the car, Lennie said, “Do you seriously think that Gratz and Masterson had something to do with Brady Neil’s death? They’ve been incarcerated for almost twenty years.”

  “We look into everything, Lennie.” Decker turned on the motor. “What do you think your dad and Gregg Levine were talking about?” He pulled away from the curb. “Do they often play golf together?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t follow the comings and goings of my dad. But I do know that the Levines—well, Gregg and Yvonne—are important members of the community. They have done a lot of charity work for the police department. I don’t see what’s odd about Gregg calling up Dad and asking him about Brady Neil’s death.”

  “Nothing odd,” Decker said. “Just checking if they’ve done this before.”

  “Like Yvonne said, Gregg Levine probably wanted details.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  “And since the latest incident happened in Hamilton, Gregg probably feels that he’s entitled to know the details. It could have something to do with his family.”

  “Like what?” Decker asked. “Are you suggesting that one of the Levine family members was behind Brady Neil’s murder?”

  Lennie was quiet. “Do you think that the Levines had something to do with Neil’s murder?”

  “Nice deflection of my question.” Decker smiled. “I’ll answer yours. I don’t know. I’m still gathering information.”

  “I probably sound a little defensive about my dad. For the record, I haven’t said a word to him about this investigation.”

  “You don’t get a medal for that, Lennie. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  “I know.” Silence. “He’s being stupid.”

  “Pardon?”

  “My dad. He shouldn’t be talking to Gregg Levine in an unofficial capacity. The conversation should be at the Hamilton PD station house, not the golf course.”

  “Have they played golf before?”

  “I don’t know. Truthfully, I keep my distance from my father. I want people to judge me by what I do, not who I am.”

  “That’s impossible. If you want that, you can’t work for his police department.”

  “I know. I should have stayed in Philadelphia. Just ignored the jerks and taken the heat. I was really doing well, too. In my mind, I just crashed. What is wrong with me?”

  “Lennie, how about you save the self-flagellation for another time and concentrate on the case? Does your father routinely play golf with members of the community?”

  “I know he plays a lot of charity games to help raise money for all sorts of good causes. On the weekends mostly.”

  “Then playing with Gregg Levine would or would not be unusual?”

  “The game wouldn’t be unusual. But I wouldn’t expect him to take three hours off in the middle of the workweek to play golf, especially when there’s a bloodbath in his district.”

  “He probably doesn’t know about Jaylene Boch and her missing son, especially if they don’t allow cells on the course.”

  She was quiet. Then her face visibly relaxed. “That’s a good point.”

  A call came through the Bluetooth. When Decker depressed the button, Radar’s voice said, “Why are you visiting Yvonne Apple?”

  Decker was taken aback. “News travels fast.”

  “She called her brother, her brother told Baccus, and Baccus called me.”

  “That’s strange. She just told me cells aren’t allowed on the golf course.”

  “Decker—”

  “FYI, Captain, Officer Baccus is in the car with me.”

  “Hello, Officer. I hope Detective Decker is showing you the ins and outs of Homicide.”

  “Very much so.”

  Decker said, “Why is Chief Baccus calling you about my homicide investigation?”

  “Why are you talking to people who were victims of a double homicide that happened twenty years ago?”

  “Because my corpse is the son of the Levines’ killer. I have to consider all possibilities, Mike.”

  “This has nothing to do with the Levines.”

  “Why do we know that, sir?” Radar was silent. Decker said, “Captain, I’m just trying to get as much background information as possible. And I’m not the only one who’s curious. Why else would Gregg Levine call up Victor Baccus for golf?”

  “Golf?”

  “When I went to their jewelry store, Yvonne Apple, the sister, informed us that her brother had called up Victor Baccus for golf this morning. Hence my statement that phones aren’t allowed on the golf course. Yvonne told me that when I asked if I could have his cell number to call him up.”

  After a moment of silence, Decker continued talking.

  “Now maybe it was just a spur-of-the-moment friendly game
. But my intuition tells me that Gregg is probably trying to pump Baccus for details of the Neil murder.”

  Lennie said, “Captain, did Chief Baccus say anything about Joseph Boch’s disappearance? It was a nasty scene at the house. A woman was nearly dead. I would think he’d rather be there than the golf course.”

  Decker glanced at her and nodded.

  Radar said, “He didn’t know about it until I told him. He’s probably on his way there now.”

  “Then I’ll see him there and bring him up to date,” Decker said. “I don’t know why he would be pissed that I went to see Yvonne Apple. It’s relevant.”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, especially if he pulls the case from you.”

  “Joseph Boch is his case. Brady Neil’s death is in our jurisdiction. Let’s hear it for interdepartmental cooperation.”

  “If the forensics show that Neil was murdered at Boch’s house, then the murder case will go to Hamilton. If they want your input, that’s up to them. If they want to do it themselves, that’s also up to them.”

  Decker paused. “That’s fine.”

  Radar also paused. “You’re okay with that?”

  “What can I do?”

  Lennie said, “Why on earth would my father pull the case from Decker when he assigned me to him to work this murder case?”

  “I don’t know, Officer Baccus,” Radar said. “Maybe he’ll choose to keep everything in-house. And it’s his right.”

  “But I am in-house,” Lennie said. “I work for Hamilton.”

  Decker held up his hand to her. “This is all supposition. Let me talk to the man first. But I do have one request, Mike.”

  “Speak.”

  “I want to interview Brandon Gratz.”

  A pause. “Why?”

  “Because if Brady Neil’s blood does not show up at the Boch house, his murder is still mine. And I am very thorough. Brandon Gratz is Neil’s father. They might have been in contact. He might be able to shed light if Neil was into something dangerous. Neil could have also been doing something at his father’s behest.”

  “If so, why would Gratz want to talk to you?”

  “Because Neil was his son, and his son was murdered. It’s an avenue we need to explore. If you could grease the skids with the paperwork, I’d be appreciative.”

  “What prison is he at?”

  “Bergenshaw Maximum. It’s near Poughkeepsie.”

  “I know the prison. I don’t know the warden. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thanks,” Decker said.

  Doing what you can is sometimes enough.

  More often than not, doing what you can is a date with failure.

  On the front lawn of Jaylene Boch’s home, Victor Baccus was surveying the activity, looking straight ahead, while talking to Decker. An hour ago, he was playing golf in appropriate course clothing. Now he was impeccably garbed in a black police uniform, including starched white shirt, tie, and spit-polished black shoes. He was average size but muscular—broad shoulders and a thick neck. He had pink smooth skin and intense dark eyes. He looked at Decker, arms folded across his chest. “It’s not that I mind you investigating the Levines. I understand. It’s good policing. But if you would have told me first, I could have helped you. Yvonne has always been tougher than Gregg. When it happened, she was the one who held it together. That girl is pure steel. Gregg just fell apart.”

  “He also was the one who witnessed the shootings. That image isn’t burned in her brain. What I’m asking is why’d she feel it necessary to call you, Chief?”

  “Yvonne doesn’t trust too many people. I’m not sure she trusts me. But she trusts me more than she trusts you. It might have helped to have someone from Hamilton with you.”

  “Sir, I had Officer Baccus with me. It didn’t seem to make a difference.”

  Baccus made a sour face. “Pete . . . it’s all right if I call you Pete? We’re about the same age.”

  “I’m older than you by a decade. But Pete’s fine.”

  “What I meant was I could have sent someone a little more experienced. A real detective.”

  Decker was taken aback by the insult. “Officer Baccus is doing a fine job, Chief. Couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

  “I’m sure that’s a lie.” Decker was quiet. Baccus sighed. “I love my daughter, Pete. She’s the apple of my eye. She’s a good cop—persistent and dogged. But she’s better behind the scenes than on center stage.”

  “That’s why it worked well, sir. She did exactly what I told her to do and did it well.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “You sent her to me to learn. She’s learning.”

  “This case isn’t for a newbie.”

  “Dump cases are rarely cut-and-dried.” He paused. “Why did you send her to me?”

  “Honestly? I didn’t see Neil’s murder as a whodunit. You asked for the files of some punks in my district. I thought Brady Neil was one of them. Guys get drunk or high, they fool around with guns . . . something goes off accidentally, shit happens.”

  “He was beaten to death with a bat.”

  “The point is she’s too green for something this messy.”

  “I think she’s doing fine.”

  Baccus turned to him. “How so?”

  “She’s a quick learner, Chief. Let her go the distance. You might be surprised.”

  “Meaning let you go the distance.”

  “Of course, let me go the distance. I’m a very experienced homicide detective. As such, I like to finish what I start.”

  Baccus’s eyes went back to the house. “If you coordinate with Wen and Randy, I won’t pull the rug from under your feet.”

  “What about Lenora?”

  “I’m pulling her off the case. This is no time for her to get her feet wet. You normally work with the kid? Harvard, you call him?”

  “Yes, but I can use all the help I can get, including Lennie. But it’s your call, of course. I’ll coordinate with your guys. We all want a quick resolution. And to that end, I’d like to talk to Gregg Levine. Anything that has to do with Brandon Gratz has to do with him.”

  “But we don’t know if it has anything to do with Gratz.” When Decker was silent, Baccus said, “How about getting a little further along on this mess and then I’ll approach Gregg.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Decker said. “About Officer Baccus. What’s the verdict?”

  “She’s off.” He turned to Decker again. “You tell her that it’s my verdict. Put the onus on me.”

  Chapter 12

  “Did he give you a reason?” Smoke from her nostrils. Her nails were clicking faster than a court stenographer’s fingers. “Other than I was green and a newbie?”

  “Those were the reasons, Len.”

  “And you agreed with him?” Her face was red.

  “Not that it’s your business, but no, I didn’t agree with him,” Decker said. “But it’s his call. He put you on the case, he can pull it from you. He could have pulled it from me, but he didn’t. Not letting you see this out, in my opinion, is a mistake.”

  She bit her lip, silently seething.

  Decker said, “Listen to me for a sec.” No response. “Are you listening?”

  “I don’t need a pep talk.”

  “Don’t speak to me like that. I’m still your superior.”

  That got her attention. She sighed. “I apologize, sir.”

  “Apology accepted. Are you listening?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re no longer on the case. I will not actively discuss what’s going on and what progress we’re making. But we did work together on it, and I might have to call you from time to time to ask you a couple of questions about the interviews we conducted, okay? And I could see where it might be appropriate for you to ask me some questions as points of clarification, so you know what I’m asking.”

  Her eyes locked with Decker. “I’ll help you any way I can.”

  “Like with that girl Neil dated.”


  “Olivia Anderson.”

  “Yeah, her. I’d still like to talk to her, but maybe she’ll want to talk to you also. That would be okay. You want to help me and yourself, go back to your father and ask him what assignments he’d like you to do. Have a good attitude and, above all, be a professional.”

  “You think he might change his mind?”

  “No idea. But it’s the right way to behave.”

  “Okay.” She took a breath and let it out. “Call me anytime you have questions for me. And thank you for the privilege of working with you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She paused. “You know, what I do on my own free time is my own business.”

  Her posture was calm and her red face was gone, but there was something in her eyes. Decker recognized that look because he had seen it so often when he looked in the mirror.

  Fuck you, I’ll do what I want.

  It wasn’t his plan to gain her as an ally. But he wasn’t displeased with the outcome. Still, he had to act professionally. “Don’t go there, Lennie. Nothing good will come from it. Go coordinate with your superior. Good luck.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “My last sergeant was smart, perceptive, and very fair. You remind me a lot of her.”

  Decker smiled and watched her walk away.

  Other way around, kiddo. She reminds you of me.

  Recapping his conversation with Baccus, but away from prying eyes, Decker and McAdams were a few blocks from the scene, grabbing coffee to go, talking as they walked back to the Boch house.

  Tyler was aghast. “He fired her?”

  “Pulled her off the case.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Did she fuck up?”

  “Nope. He just didn’t want her on a real homicide case. At least, that’s what he said.”

  “You believe him?”

  “It’s not a matter of do I believe him. There’s some dynamic between the two of them that I’m not privy to.” Decker smoothed his mustache. “She mentioned something about helping us on her own time—to which I said no. But it’s not going to stop her.”

  “She’s going to spy on Hamilton for us?”

  “I wouldn’t call it spying, Harvard.”

 

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