Code of Deceit: A Mystery/Detective novel (David Mason series)

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Code of Deceit: A Mystery/Detective novel (David Mason series) Page 20

by John Foxjohn


  “In Save-U a Lot parking lot on West Hawkins.”

  She rolled her eyes, and in an exasperated voice said, “Detective, we know that. Where on the body? How many times was he shot?”

  He knew what she meant, but wasn’t answering it. He ignored the question and indicated a man with his hand raised.

  “Do you have any evidence?” he asked.

  “We have a few small pieces we’re going to be following up on.”

  “Can you tell us what they are?”

  “No.”

  He indicated the woman who he’d ignored before. “Sergeant. You didn’t answer my question.”

  He smoothed his hair. Wow, she was sharp. “No ma’am, I didn’t.”

  David indicated another reporter. “Do you think someone planned the murder, or was it a spur of the moment shooting?”

  “It was premeditated murder.”

  “What makes you believe that?”

  “I’m sorry; I can’t compromise an ongoing investigation by going into it.”

  The I.O. had told David this would stop these questions, but he’d been wrong. Since David wouldn’t give the reporters the information on this question, it increased their determination. He thought they’d never let this one rest. At one point, he turned and looked at the lieutenant, who shrugged and didn’t say anything.

  Thanks a lot. What happened to the help?

  Questions flew at him for another forty-five long, drawn-out minutes. Reporters kept repeating the same questions. David guessed they were seeing if he’d tell them something different, or slip up and reveal information unintentionally. Thank goodness, this mess was over.

  Pores told him he’d done well in the briefing. Henry, who had sat in the wings watching with a smile that said, “Better you than me,” told David doc said for them to come by his office when they got through with the press conference.

  As they left the briefing room, a uniformed officer approached, told them Carlin was at the station, and asked what to do with him. David told the officer to wait five minutes and take him to interrogation room four.

  David and Henry exchanged a glance. “Time for the real work to begin,” Henry said.

  “Let’s get there before they bring him in,” David said.

  Henry caught David’s arm to stop him. David stopped and looked at Henry for a moment. “What’s the matter?”

  Henry cleared his throat. “David—I—I wanted to make sure you’re Okay before we go in with Carlin.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You’re like a walking time bomb. I can see it in your face. Way you walk and talk. Bub, you need to cool your heels.”

  David hesitated before he spoke. “You’re right. But I think I’m calm enough to do this.”

  ***

  Patterson arrived at the little restaurant a few minutes late because Spinks had delayed him again. Pores waited for him in a booth at the back.

  “Something wrong?” Pores asked.

  “Spinks.”

  “Why don’t you can his butt?”

  “I need to. Don’t want to. Right now I have to impose on David to review case files because Spinks kicks them back.”

  Pores frowned. “Why is he kicking them back?”

  “From what I can tell, his only reasons are he doesn’t like the detectives’ attitudes.”

  Taking a drink, Pores shook his head. “Bill, I go along with you on most things because you have good instincts when it comes to people. That’s why I let you promote Mason over other qualified detectives.”

  “I know. Thank you. But I don’t know what to do with Spinks.”

  “What’s his problem now?”

  “He’s throwing a hissy. He doesn’t want David involved with the sniper investigation or Ronny’s death. He says he’s too close to it.”

  “He’s not wrong. I can see his point. Mason’s emotions may get in the way on this.”

  “Carl, put yourself in David’s shoes. If someone tried to kill you, and killed me, would you walk away and let someone else handle it?”

  “Nope.”

  “How would I stop you?”

  “You could fire me, but there’s no way I’d stop looking.”

  “Uh huh,” Patterson replied. “No way to stop me, either.”

  “Is Mason that good?”

  “Carl, you once told me I was the best you ever saw.”

  Pores laughed. “I should’ve known you’d remember that.”

  “David’s better.”

  “Hmm. Will he do anything stupid?”

  “No. Henry will keep him in line.”

  ***

  As if he didn’t have a worry in the world, Carlin sauntered into the interrogation room. David and Henry watched through the one-way mirror when he slouched in the chair. Since he wasn’t under arrest, they didn’t cuff him to the chair. About six feet tall with short brown hair, he matched the description given by the man who had overheard the conversation in the restaurant. But half the young white males in the city matched that description.

  Henry and David strolled into the room, set the recorder down, and sat opposite Carlin. Instant recognition widened Carlin’s eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he compressed his lips.

  David leaned forward in his seat. “Mr. Carlin. Do you remember me?”

  He crossed his arms and looked David right in the eye. “I ain’t about to forget you.”

  “Do you also remember Sergeant Ronny Hemes?”

  “Ain’t going to forget him either.”

  “Let me tell you what’s been going on here.”

  Carlin leaned back in his seat and extended his legs. “Sure.”

  “About a month ago I was shot in the shoulder with a large caliber round by a coward who was to afraid to look me in the eye. Sunday morning Sergeant Hemes was shot and killed, also by a coward.”

  “And you want to know if I did it?”

  “Yeah, that’ll be a good starting place.”

  “If I’d shot you, you’d be dead.”

  “Did you know about all this?” Henry asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Do you want to make any statement for the record?” Henry asked.

  “Yeah. I’d like to make a statement.” He looked at David. “I’m sorry the guy missed.”

  “Where were you when the shootings occurred?” David asked.

  Carlin smiled. “I understand I ain’t got to stay here. I can leave when I want to.”

  “That’s right.” Henry said.

  He rose from his seat, “I’m fixin’ to leave now.” He strolled out the door without a backward glance.

  David and Henry sat for a long time without talking. “He’s a cool one,” Henry said.

  “Yeah he is.”

  “He’s not stupid, either.”

  “Uh-uh.”

  Chapter 25

  Doc Blanchard sat behind his cluttered desk, the autopsy report lying before him when David and Henry entered.

  “I saw your news conference on TV. You’re becoming a regular news hotshot.”

  David scratched his face. “I’m not doing it on purpose, doc. It seems every time I turn around, someone wants to put a mike in my face.”

  Doc nodded. “What’d you need to know?”

  “Your report stated Ronny was shot in the back of the head and fell forward on his face.”

  “Yeah, all the evidence points to that.”

  “What makes you believe this?” David asked.

  “He was shot with a large caliber slug. Looks like the shot came from a distance. Round exited the top part of his forehead.”

  “There’s no doubt he was shot in the back of the head?”

  “No doubt. That’s a fact.”

  Blood, guts, and formaldehyde odors turned David’s stomach. His mouth curled down at the corners. How can doc stand this smell? “What makes you think he fell on his face? Why not on one side or the other?”

  “He had gravel embedded deep in the center of his forehead.
He was shot and fell face first.”

  “Do you think he died right away?” David asked.

  “Yep. He was dead before he hit the pavement.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He was shot with a large caliber bullet and it went all the way through his brain. Sergeant Hemes had no gravel jammed in his hands or arms. It’s natural for someone who is falling forward to put out their hands to try to break their fall. He didn’t do this, and he had to fall hard for the gravel to be imbedded as deep as it was in his forehead.”

  “Was Ronny lying on his back when you got there?”

  Doc searched on his desk for a report, picked one up and scanned it. “Yes. I assumed someone turned him over while all that mess was going on. Too many people trampled through there.”

  David nodded in agreement. “In your medical opinion, could he have rolled over on his back after he was shot?”

  “No way. Like I told you, he was dead before he hit the ground.”

  “What if I told you he was lying on his back when he was found and the police didn’t roll him over?”

  “I’d tell you the killer rolled him over.”

  “Did you check the lividity?”

  “So you know about lividity?”

  “I know blood in a dead body settles to the lowest points.”

  “Good, detective; do you realize how few detectives know these things?”

  “I took several forensic science classes. What’d the lividity show?”

  “It showed he’d been on his back awhile. If you’ll check the concerns on the last page, you’ll see it there.”

  David reached into his pocket and brought out his spiral notebook. He’d written questions and now wanted to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

  “Doc, you said he had gravel wedged in his forehead.”

  “Yes he did.”

  “Did you check the gravel?”

  “Check the gravel for what?”

  “Asphalt or tar on it.”

  “No, I didn’t. You’d have to send it to the lab to get the gravel’s composition. It looked to me like normal gravel.”

  “Could you look at it through the microscope and see if it has asphalt on it?”

  “Sure. Hold on.” He reached into a drawer and brought out an evidence bag. He lumbered to his microscope and looked through it. He made adjustments on the scope, checked another piece, and rose. “Nothing but blood and skin tissue. No tar as far as I can tell. Why’d you ask?”

  “Doc, the parking lot he was found in was asphalt.”

  “Yes, it is, but…never occurred to me.”

  “What does that mean?” Henry asked.

  Doc answered for David. “It means he wasn’t killed in that parking lot.”

  “Okay, thanks doc.” David said.

  “Find this one. This was a cold-blooded execution.”

  “I’ll find him.”

  They had a new ball game. The crime scene was contaminated, but it wasn’t the real crime scene. Gravel and lividity meant someone had moved Ronny’s body. Now he had to find the real crime scene in a hurry.

  David called Joe Hughes as soon as he got to his office. “Joe, I need that evidence report. Do you have it ready?”

  “Yeah, I finished it. I’ll bring it up.”

  “Thanks Joe.”

  “What’re you looking for?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t know. Something’s missing here.”

  Joe appeared in the door. “Here it is.”

  David took the report and and as he read, asked, “Were there prints on the door handles?”

  “Yes, all over the car. Hood, doors, mirrors. Every place we could get a fingerprint.”

  “What about the steering wheel and gear shift?” Henry asked.

  Joe looked at David. “Do you want to tell him?”

  “Can’t get prints off them, Henry. They aren’t a smooth surface, and we can’t get prints off any surface with any textured design.”

  “Oh. Didn’t know that.”

  “What about inside the vehicle?” David asked.

  “Several. Most were Sergeants Hemes’, and a couple belonged to the other patrol sergeants. We found none that didn’t belong to patrol sergeants or police officers.”

  David scratched his head. “What about the back seat and trunk? I see nothing about these places in the report.”

  “We didn’t check the back seat and trunk.”

  “Why not?”

  “There didn’t seem to be a need. Back doors open from the outside and the trunk was locked.”

  “ Let’s do it.”

  “Now?”

  “Now, Joe.”

  Joe looked at Henry who shrugged. David and Henry strode to the impound lot, while Joe retrieved his kit. He met them there and started on the back seat, while David watched over his shoulder. Henry popped the trunk.

  “Hey guys. Come here,” Henry called.

  David and Joe scampered to the back. Bloodstains blotted the carpet in the trunk.

  “We should’ve checked this,” Joe said.

  “I bet its Ronny’s blood.” Henry said.

  “I’m lost here. What’s going on?” Joe asked.

  “Ronny wasn’t killed in the that parking lot. He was killed somewhere else and carried there in the trunk.” David said. “I want this sent to the lab.”

  “Will do,” Joe said. “We’ll also check for prints, hair fibers, and everything else.”

  David thrust his hands in his pockets. “Humor me and do those same tests on the back seat, too.”

  “Okay.”

  David ran his hand across his mouth and chin, making a brushing sound over stubble. He scuffed his toe on the pavement. “Let’s go back to the parking lot.”

  “Where Ronny was found?” Henry asked.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Save-U-Lots Grocery store on West Hawkins had several vehicles parked in the lot, and people came in and out. David parked close to the exit, standing with his hands on his hips, surveying the area.

  Henry stuffed his hands in his pockets and slouched. “What are we looking for?”

  “Not sure. This isn’t where Ronny died. Someone loaded his body in his patrol vehicle and dumped him here.”

  “What’s the point?” Henry asked.

  “Point is, why? We know the killer used a rifle from a distance, loaded him in his patrol car, and transported him here. Why would the killer do that, Henry?”

  Henry straightened his windbreaker. “I don’t have a clue, and you’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It had to happen close.” David said.

  “Why close?”

  “Carlin or anyone else couldn’t run around the city in a patrol sergeant’s car. They’d be spotted.”

  “Maybe we’re looking at this shooting from the wrong angle,” Henry said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’re sitting here saying he wasn’t killed here. He had to be carried here.”

  “Yes.”

  “This is the location the killer wanted Ronny to be discovered. Why?” Henry asked.

  “You got me,” David said.

  Henry tilted his head. “Why couldn’t he kill him here to start with?”

  David and Henry trudged over to their vehicle and sat. David patted on the steering wheel with both hands. His gaze flickered across everything around the parking lot. There has to be a reasonable explanation why the killer wanted Ronny’s body found here. He took a huge chance transporting the body. He lay his head back. “There’re two reasons why Ronny couldn’t be killed in this parking.”

  “Two?”

  “He’d never have been in this un-lit parking lot. And the shooter couldn’t have made the shot if he had been.”

  “I know why he wouldn’t be here,” Henry said, “but why couldn’t the murderer have shot him in this parking lot?”

  “Think about it. This parking lot has no lighting. It was dark. We’re assuming the
shooter used a rifle and has a scope. If Ronny were in this parking lot, the shooter would be looking into darkness. He wouldn’t have been able to see Ronny with an open sight or a scope. It would have been like looking into the dark from a lighted window in a house”

  “Hmm. I see your point. Let’s look at what we have.” Henry held up one finger. “We have Ronny’s body found here, and know he was moved here.” Henry stuck up another finger. “He couldn’t have been carried far.” Henry held up a third finger, “He had to have been killed close to here.”

  “Where?” David asked.

  Henry pointed across the street to a small abandoned parking lot next to the Avon Ford Dealership. “There.”

  “Why there?” David asked.

  “There’s no light in this parking lot, but I betcha there’s light in that one from the Ford place.”

  “Let’s go look.” David said.

  David pulled across the street, parking close to the entrance. Henry drifted to the left and David angled to the right. They both crept along, looking at everything on the ground.

  “David, come here.”

  David looked up to see Henry squatted down. He jogged over. Amongst dead grass was dried blood.

  “Let’s get Joe and the crime scene unit out here right away. We’ve been looking at the wrong crime scene,” David said. “Now maybe we can find evidence we can take to court.”

  Two hours later, the crime scene unit had combed, dusted, brushed, and searched the parking lot. They found several cigarette butts matching the brand Ronny smoked. If they were his, he’d been in the parking lot for several minutes.

  “We know where he was killed and where the body was taken to,” Henry said. “What we still don’t know is why he was taken anywhere.”

  “I think I know,” David said.

  “Why?”

  “He met someone here. The killer carried his body across the street to throw us off.”

  “But how would it throw us off?”

  “His murderer knew we wouldn’t suspect Ronny of meeting someone in an unlit parking lot. He didn’t want us to think he was meeting anyone. Besides, we processed the wrong crime scene. ”

  “Interesting.”

  David crossed his arms. “Yeah. It is. Who would meet Ronny here at that time? Had to be a friend, relative, or another cop. David remembered the two of them meeting like this on slow nights and talking.

 

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