Murder Takes Patience

by Giammatteo, Giacomo

  Frankie put Chad in an interrogation room, asked if he wanted coffee, and then stepped outside. He rushed to Carol’s desk. “Sweet, beautiful Carol. I need a favor.”

  “I keep telling you to stop being redundant. Whenever you’re nice to me, it goes without saying that you need a favor. What is it this time?”

  Frankie handed her Chad’s cell number. “I need everything you can tell me on calls or texts he got last night—who, what, when, where…all of it. And fast.”

  Carol brushed her hands in the air. “Of course.”

  Frankie went back and stood beside Lou and Sherri, watching Chad through the glass.

  “How long are you going to let him sit there?” Lou asked.

  Frankie sipped on his coffee and smiled. “Until his coffee’s cold.”

  “If I ever have to interrogate you, that’s what I’m gonna do,” Sherri said. “Serve you cold coffee and spray the room with cleaning chemicals before you go in.”

  “Might as well kill me.”

  “You think he’ll lawyer up?” Sherri asked.

  “Not a question of will he, just when will he.”

  “It’s really a question of how soon you piss him off,” Sherri said. “You have a way of doing that to people.”

  “Don’t knock it,” Lou said. “It takes a lot of practice, and Frankie’s good at it.”

  “He has it perfected, I’d say.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Enough bullshit from you two. I got him here, didn’t I?”

  “Are we going in there today?” Lou said.

  Frankie stared through the window. “Waiting on the coffee.”

  Lou took the lid off his bottled water and poured some in Chad’s coffee, then he dipped his finger in. “It’s cold. Let’s go in.”

  Sherri scrunched her face into a frown. “You dipped your finger in his coffee.”

  “Damn, and I forgot to wash my hands.”

  “That’s cold, Mazzetti.”

  “It is now.”

  Frankie opened the door, walked over and handed Chad his coffee.

  He sipped it. “That’s terrible.”

  “Sorry,” Frankie said. “We don’t have the best here, but after a while, it’s just caffeine.”

  Chad moved the cup to the side. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Lou sat across from Chad and to his left. Frankie across to his right, with Sherri closer to the end of the table. Frankie took out his notepad, flipped a few pages while Chad watched him.

  “Tell me about your relationship with Debbie Parnell.”

  Chad leaned forward and looked up at Frankie, attentive. “We went out a few times. Dinner, a show…”

  “Then back to her place?”

  He hesitated. “Maybe once…no…twice. I was there twice.”

  “So earlier, when you said you’d never been in her apartment…that was a lie?”

  Chad sighed and looked toward the ceiling. “Yes, Detective. I lied. I didn’t want you to think I had anything to do with this, and I thought it would confuse the issue.”

  “And the issue is…what?”

  “That I didn’t do it.”

  Frankie flipped his chair around, leaned the back against the table toward Chad, and rested his arms on the table. “I want to believe you, Chad. I honestly don’t think you did this. The problem I have is that you’re a goddamn liar. You’ve been lying to us since we met you. And when people lie to me, I presume they’re guilty.”

  “Look—”

  “No, you hear me out. This is how it works. You tell me the truth. If I think you’re innocent, we cut you loose. Simple as that.”

  Chad nodded, but he waited a few seconds before responding. “All right. Debbie and I had a thing going for a few months, but we called it off about a month ago.”

  “How many times were you in her apartment?”

  “I don’t know. Half a dozen times. Maybe more.”

  “Spend the night?”

  “Never. She wouldn’t let me. She…”

  “What?”

  “She had a fiancé.”

  Sherri got up and walked around to face him. “While she was sleeping with you?”

  He nodded. “I wasn’t the one engaged.”

  “That makes me sick,” Frankie said. “I’m going to take a piss.”

  He walked out and joined Morreau, watching through the glass.

  “What’s your take so far, Donovan?”

  “Too early to tell. I like him for it, but we need more. I came out here to watch for a while. Better perspective.”

  “Good idea,” Morreau said. “Let Mazzetti drive him crazy for a while.”

  Lou had a notepad in front of him. He kept silent a moment, then, without looking at Chad, said, “So you had a key.”

  “No, I…” Chad closed his eyes, shook his head. “Yes, I did have a key. But I wasn’t there that night.”

  “Who else had a key?”

  “I don’t know. I assume her fiancé did.”

  “Why did you go there last night?”

  Chad pursed his lips. “I explained this already. I had asked her if I could come over. She brushed me off, said she was tired.”

  Lou waited. He was good at letting people stew. “So why did you go over?”

  “I knew she wasn’t tired. Debbie had more energy than one of those damn rabbits on the battery commercials.”

  “Energy as in bedroom energy?”

  Chad smiled. “That too, but no—just energy. All kinds of energy. She always wanted to be doing something. I’m telling you, she needed two men, maybe more. She wore me out.”

  Lou made a few notes. Never looked up. “So why was it you went there?”

  “I’ve told you three times.”

  “Actually you haven’t.”

  “To see if she was meeting someone else. I thought her fiancé might be coming over.”

  “How did you get in the building?” Lou still hadn’t looked at Chad.

  Chad’s face reddened. He clenched his fists. “I told you. I did not go into her building. Not that night.”

  “He’s starting to get frustrated,” Morreau said.

  “Lou hasn’t even gotten started.”

  Chad fidgeted, moving his hands around, scratching his arm, rubbing his neck. “Detective, your partner asked me about the phone messages I left on that other lady’s phone…I can explain that.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I didn’t leave them for her.”

  “So you said.”

  “No, I mean, that wasn’t a lady’s phone I called. Some guy had been calling me all week, asking about investments. He kept bugging me. I finally lost patience.”

  “A guy? An investor?”

  “Yes.”

  Lou whistled. “Good story.”

  He let Chad sit for a moment more, then, “Did you know Debbie was seeing Robert Elliott? Did you know Robert?”

  Chad looked down at his hands. “No. And no.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want a lawyer?”

  “I already told you. I want to get this over with. I’ve got work to do, and I don’t want you pestering my colleagues.”

  Lou looked at Frankie’s notes. “Okay, so tell me why you lied at the office. You said you weren’t having an affair with Debbie. That you had never been in her apartment. And that you didn’t have a key to her place.”

  “Don’t you people listen? The other detective already asked all that.” He grinded his teeth, closed his eyes and opened them, then glared at Lou. “I’ll say it one more time. I didn’t see how it mattered. I didn’t kill her, so it didn’t make a difference.”

  “Lying to the police during an investigation can get you in a lot of trouble.”

  “It was harmless.”

  Morreau watched through the glass with Donovan. “Now he’s pissing Benning off.”

  Carol came up behind them. “Since Donovan is out here, you must be talking about Mazzetti.”

  “I’m guessing that’s Carol behin
d me,” Frankie said.

  “How did you know? Getting psychic on me?”

  “The sunshine precedes you, eternal optimist.”

  “Screw you, Donovan. Goddamn half-breed dago/mick prick.”

  Morreau laughed. “That’s what you get, Frankie. Don’t mess with Carol.”

  “That’s right,” Carol said, and handed Frankie a paper. “Here’s the report on Benning’s phone.” She started back to her desk. “And don’t bother saying ‘I owe you one, Carol.’ You owe me too many as it is.”

  Frankie tapped on the door and handed the information to Mazzetti. Lou sat back down, and flipped through his notepad. “Let’s see. You had a key. The doorman saw you the night of the murder. You don’t remember the bars you visited.” He slammed the notepad on the table, and, for the first time, looked at Chad. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened? And don’t forget that we already know, so no more lies.”

  Chad sat with his hands folded in front of him. He was silent.

  “Did you fight about the other guy?”

  “There was no other guy.”

  Lou got up and walked behind him, and set the photo from the crime scene on the table in front of Chad. “Then whose head is buried in your girlfriend’s crotch?”

  Chad barely reacted. “That must have been a client she brought home for dinner.”

  “Some dinner,” Lou said.

  Chad clenched his fists. “Screw you.”

  Lou walked some more then came up behind him again, leaned close, and whispered. “Tell me again which bars you went to the night of the murder.”

  “I’ve already told you that I don’t remember, Detective. I’m sure you didn’t forget.”

  “We’re going to check all of the bars in that area.” When that comment drew no reaction from Chad, Lou went back to his notebook. After a few seconds, he said, “The way I figure it, is you’re using the bars to provide an alibi. When we check, we’ll probably find a few drunks who remember seeing you, but they won’t be able to point to a time.” Lou got up and paced, then he walked over and got in Benning’s face. “I’ll tell you what I think, Chad. I think you went to Debbie’s place, saw her with another man, and got pissed. You stopped in a few bars to establish an alibi, then went up and killed them.”

  Chad did an admirable job of controlling himself but the strain of the interview was evident. His face reddened, and he clenched both fists. “Ask the doorman. I never stepped foot inside that building. Not that night.”

  “We know how you got around that,” Sherri said, and then she moved real close and let her breath run up the back of his neck. “What really happened? Did she like threesomes? Did you get tired of watching?”

  Lou stepped in, just as close. “Was he better than you? Is that what went wrong?”

  Chad jumped up and tried flipping the table. “Fuck you. I want my lawyer. Now!”

  In the hall, Frankie smiled at Morreau. “It was inevitable.”

  Lou looked at Sherri. “I’m betting Robert was better than Chad.”

  “Probably bigger, too,” Sherri said.

  “I want a lawyer,” Chad said. “Give me a polygraph. I’ll prove I didn’t do it.”

  “A polygraph? You’re a marketing guy for an investment firm. Beating a poly is probably a requirement to get hired.”

  Frankie walked in. “What the hell happened in here?”

  “Mr. Benning got upset when Sherri suggested he didn’t like sharing.”

  Frankie walked over and stood beside him. “Mr. Benning, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law.”

  “What are you doing? You can’t arrest me.”

  “Don’t interrupt, Mr. Benning. Let me finish. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense. Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?”

  “Yes, of course I do.”

  “I want you to sign this card stating that you have been read your rights and that you understand them.”

  “What for? You’re taping this, aren’t you?”

  “Sign the card, Mr. Benning.”

  Chad signed it. Frankie spun him around. “Hands behind your back, Mr. Benning. I’m placing you under arrest for the murders of Debbie Parnell and Robert Elliott.”

  “You don’t need those cuffs.”

  “You will be transported for processing and arraignment. Your lawyer can meet you there.”

  “I’ll get you for this.”

  Frankie got within inches of his face. “Is that a threat?”

  Benning stared.

  “Make sure he gets his call,” Frankie said, and slammed the door when he left.

  CHAPTER 22

  Narrow the List

  Lou brought coffee for Sherri and Frankie. “I guess we got that piece of shit out of the way.”

  “Not for long,” Frankie said. “He’ll be out on bail in a couple of hours.”

  “We’ve got enough to put him away,” Sherri said.

  “Not even close,” Frankie said. “Maybe if that hair from Parnell’s apartment matches, but without that, it’s weak and circumstantial. Even with that, it’s weak.”

  “We got some pretty strong stuff in there,” Lou said. “Besides, when the judge okays the search warrant, I guarantee we’ll find something at his place.”

  “Maybe,” Frankie said, and sat up straight. “Okay let’s go over what we have. Miller, you’ve got the files. Spit it out.”

  Sherri opened the folder.

  Lou started a list on a legal pad.

  “Sandy Krenshaw called him from her cell numerous times the week before she died. He called back three times and left messages. The last voicemail is one a jury should find damaging.”

  “Let’s hear it again,” Lou said.

  Sherri punched the play button on the recorder in the file.

  I’m telling you for the last time. Stop fucking calling me. You got that? Don’t ever call me again.

  “You’re right,” Lou said. “That’s a good piece of circumstantial.”

  “But we can’t even prove it was her phone,” Frankie said. “A good lawyer—”

  “We’ve got her prints on it and it was found in the dumpster with her purse and the other phone. What else do you want?”

  “Just saying, a good lawyer will raise reasonable doubt. He’ll suggest the killer could have put her prints on the phone after she was dead. And he’ll question why she only had the phone for a week.” Frankie stopped, looked at Lou and Sherri. “Why did she only have it for a week? Did we miss something that made her get the disposable?”

  “Maybe she wanted to get away from Chad,” Sherri said.

  Lou shook his head. “She called him from that phone. A bunch. If she were trying to get away from him, why call him on the new phone?”

  Frankie was getting excited. “This is the kind of stuff that will get us answers. Let’s see if we can tie her definitively to the phone.”

  Lou made a note. “What else have we got?”

  “The doorman saw Benning at the apartment the night of the murder,” Miller said. “He has no real alibi. He has access and motive.”

  “A weak motive,” Lou said.

  Frankie chewed on the end of a pen. “The way I see it, we have at least two big problems. The phone question and how the killer got into Parnell’s apartment.”

  “And into the hotel room,” Sherri said.

  “Right. How did he get in the room? Most people lock the doors. Even the ones who don’t lock doors at home lock hotel rooms. And besides, they lock automatically. Even the deadbolts are easy enough to break, but it wasn’t broken. So we have to assume they let him in. Why?”

  Sherri tapped on the table. “Which brings up the bigger question—why did Parnell let the killer into her apartment?”

  “She knew Chad,” Lou said.

 
Sherri shook her head. “Unless they were into the threesome thing, there is no way she’s letting another guy in her apartment while one is already there.” Sherri shook her head. “Two guys in an apartment with a woman? They’d be marking territory all over the place.”

  “I’m with Miller,” Frankie said. “He had to use a key. But that still leaves us with how he got into the building. The doorman swears he didn’t come in.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “How about you two check it out. Look that building over good. See if there is any other way in. And we should take another look at the hotel video now that we know what Chad looks like.”

  Carol popped her head in.

  “Hate to disturb this brilliant strategy session but Central Booking called. Seems they had a problem with Mr. Benning.”

  Frankie jumped up. “What happened? Did he get away?”

  “Somebody attacked him.”

  Lou smiled. “And justice for all.”

  “Morreau is pissed. Benning’s lawyer is telling everyone you set it up.”

  “Me?” Frankie asked.

  Carol nodded. “The guy who attacked him is Bruce Stewart, the fiancé.”

  “Ah shit,” Frankie said.

  “How the hell did he find out?” Sherri asked.

  “Benning’s lawyer is swearing Frankie told him so he could get Benning.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Guess you’re going down there, Donovan. Sherri and I have work to do.”

  ***

  Frankie went to see the desk sergeant at Central Booking. He thought he recognized the guy but the name wouldn’t come to him, but then it did just as he was showing his badge. “Hey, Bob. Don’t know if you remember me, but we worked together at the 15th.”

  “How the hell could I forget, you crazy fuckin’ Irishman. What brings you to the slums?”

  “Here about the guy who was attacked—Benning.”

  “He yours?”

  “Yeah, we like him for the Couples Murders as the press is tagging them.”

  “No shit? Sick fucker.” Bob looked at his sheet. “I’ll send somebody to get him.”

  “Actually, Bob, I’m looking for the one who attacked him. I don’t give a shit about Benning.”

  “So you did tell the guy where to find Benning.”

  Frankie held up his hands. “No way. Don’t go spreading that around. Benning’s lawyer is already stirring up trouble.”