Foreign Relations: A Finn O'Brien Thriller (Finn O'Brien Thriller Series Book 2)
Page 28
Matthew's head swung this way and then that. He snorted as if he found his situation annoying in the extreme. His was the arrogance of youth and wealth, of a generation brought up to believe nothing they did should have consequences. Knowing this, Finn understood there was only a small window through which he might glimpse the truth of what happened to Takrit. When Matthew Stover lawyered up it would be a high priced mouthpiece twisting and turning the facts. That Finn could not abide, not when Takrit's spirit sat on his shoulder asking him to put it to rest. Finn hunkered down beside Matthew.
"I don't believe you've the black heart of a killer, Matthew, so there must be a reason for what you've done," he said. "Did she come after you? Did you have to defend yourself for some reason?"
"You bet I did. I was defending what was mine." Matthew sat up straighter. He pulled at the restraints on his hands and spoke through clenched teeth. "That bitch stole everything that was mine."
"Diane? Takrit?" Finn asked. "What did she take?"
"Sharon for one. She was supposed to be my mother and watch out for me but she put me back there…" he kicked his feet and threw his shoulders sideways toward the guesthouse. "She put me in the friggin' maid's house and Diane in the big house. She treated Diane like she was her kid and treated me like I was shit. My father said she was supposed to look out for me."
Matthew took a deep breath, not to be mistaken for a sob of regret. It was a guard against his fury.
"And then that bitch, Sharon, stole all the money my dad left me. She took it to make her damn movie. You know what's left? Nothing. She threw me away like trash and all because of Diane."
"I'm sorry for that, Matthew," Finn said as he sat himself down on the soft grass next to the boy.
Finn knew that a man turned out is a desperate man, indeed. But if there were sympathy to be spent, his would be for Takrit. Her life was done in by greed and privilege, first by Emanuel Dega Abu and now by Matthew Stover.
Across the way the paramedics were leaving. Cordelia was getting in her car, unable to look at Matthew. Sharon Stover glided past on her gilded blade, back into the house of shattered glass, casting a hard eye on both the boy and Finn. Only the uniformed cops remained, waiting for Finn to finish so they could transport Matthew Stover.
"And did you mean to kill her?" Finn asked.
"I don't know. No. No, I don't. Not in my brain." Matt said this as if it were the first time he had thought about it. "She came looking for Sharon and I told her to get out of my house. She started talking in that weird way she had, like she was so educated and I was an idiot. I just remember getting mad and hitting her with that trophy and…oh, shit, it was just bad. But there wasn't any blood or anything like that. She just kind of went down. She was all strange, like awake but not, like moving but not."
"Why didn't you call a doctor?"
"Yeah, right," he sneered. "I'm high, I just whacked a black chick and I want some doctor coming over? Or what if Sharon saw what I did to her little star? She would have killed me. And she could do it, too. I swear, she could."
Matthew was shaking his head again as if trying to convince Finn that he was the wronged party. Finn needed no convincing. Everyone in this house was wronged but like children they had no way of righting themselves without hurting someone else.
"I just wanted to get her away. I figured if we walked around where nobody would notice much that I could talk her into keeping her mouth shut. I told her I would give her money so she would just go away but she didn't hear me. She didn't understand and she didn't get any better."
"But why the bridge?" Finn asked.
"Because I go there every day. Because everyone on that bridge looks weird so Diane would fit right in. I put her up against the wall because she was getting heavy and then she just wasn't there. I mean it was like some weird trip. This old guy was coming at us, and all those people watching. When I figured out what happened, I was like 'shit'. Everybody was running to see what happened so I ran the other way. I stayed in the car until the coast was clear and then took Uber back to the house. Sharon never asked me if I saw her. Cordelia didn't say anything. It was like it never happened. Diane was just gone."
Matt paused. He looked up to the sky and for one moment Finn thought he was going to hear the boy's sincere remorse for the loss of Takrit's life. Instead he heard:
"All those skanky people. I just didn't want them to touch me, you know what I'm saying?"
"Yes," Finn said. "I know exactly what you're saying."
Finn pushed himself up and then lifted Matthew to his feet. He walked the boy to the black and white and eased him into the car, hand atop his head. Matthew looked up at Finn.
"She should have just stayed where she was, don't you think?" Matthew asked Finn. "It would have been better for everybody if she just never come here."
Finn closed the door without answering. Where Takrit came from was a place filled with horrors and where she had ended up was just as horrific. She had been tortured by a selfish, entitled man and she was dead because of a selfish, entitled boy. Finn tapped the top of the car, stepped back and watched it go.
When he was alone, he put his hands in his pockets and walked back through the forest of trees and brush. When he came upon a bench, he sat in the dark for a bit and wondered if God hadn't made a dreadful mistake when he left such an angry, cruel lad as Matthew Stover on this earth and took a good boy like Alexander to heaven.
When, in the stillness and dark, Finn got his answer, it wasn't God's voice speaking to him but Captain Fowler's. That question, the good captain said, was above Finn O'Brien's pay grade.
CHAPTER 39
Cori sat at Finn's desk and Finn at her table because it was easier for her to get in and out of the office on crutches if they sat that way. It had been three weeks since The Mercato incident and her eye was no longer swollen, the skin around it was a lovely shade of yellow that was barely visible under her make-up. Her hair was curled and teased as she liked it. The stitches at the base of her skull were out and, in between taking the Lord's name in vain as she lamented Amber's hovering, Cori sang her daughter's praises. She still wasn't happy with the way the girl partied or the pizza parlor career, but there was a softening that Finn hoped would last. She did not bring up the promise she had asked of Finn and he was more than grateful for that. He was also grateful that they were back to work, sifting through the paperwork on Takrit's case to get it in order for the District Attorney.
"Well let's halleluiah the county," Cori said as she handed Finn a six-page lab report. "The stuff in Takrit's shoe? It's that weird grass from the Stover house. It's called Diacondra. And the matter under her nails? Confirmed, it is Matthew Stover's DNA. The leather flakes are from the sleeve of his jacket and no other. Not to mention we have her hair in his room and on the jacket and his hair and prints in her car."
"Remind me where we found the car?" Finn asked.
"USC had it towed to Brect Impound the day Lapinski sent you over to the Stover place," Cori said. "Sharon Stover had offered a reward for anyone who would help her find it, but Brect saw our hold and called us first." Cori took a sip of her coffee and scratched her leg where the cast bothered her. "Do you think that kid made a conscious decision to take Takrit's car instead of his own? It was a smart move if he did. That made it seem like Takrit disappeared of her own volition."
"I think he did what was easiest. Besides, she couldn't have stood on the running board of his car after he hit her. Hers was a sedan so he could just drop her inside. Finn said as he looked over the paperwork. He knew she left the keys in it when she was behind the gate, so it was a no brainer."
"That kid sure got off on the wrong trail, didn't he?" Cori said. "Not that I'm saying I have any sympathy. I get that he had choices and all, but still can you imagine how weird his life was? His dad was a sicko, his mom a suicide and he lived with a bitch on a blade."
Finn raised a brow. Cori chuckled.
"Let me know when she's fitted with wheels and I'll revise t
hat," she said. "Anyway, the boy must have had a cow when he went back for that hat and jacket and the car was gone."
"That is the truth. And not being able to find Takrit's phone, that really set him off." Finn said. "Seems one of his friends put the idea in his head to plant the jacket and the purse on one of the bridge folks so we would think one of them killed her."
"And how would he explain all the evidence once we got our hands on it? Or the fact that once we identified the jacket we would know it belonged to him? Only a million people have seen him in it."
"He's seventeen, Cori," Finn reminded her. "He didn't think when he attacked Takrit nor after. He was making it up as he went along."
"He got the short stick all around."
"My heart won't be bleeding for him. The boy had more privilege than anyone I've ever seen. Still, I'll grant you that it must have been a lonely life growing up at he did." Finn sat forward and flicked a finger on the last page of the lab report. "I'll have to tell Paul that Takrit's hair pomade was found on the broken door in Matthew's room. When he hit her with that trophy she must have fallen against it. Paul said it might be worth analyzing that and he was right."
Cori sat back in the chair and ran her fingers under her hair, thinking aloud.
"One more nail in Matthew Stover's coffin. I hope he pleads."
"Sure, it would save the heartache of a trial. Funny, isn't it, how the smallest thing turns around something like this?" Finn chatted as he put aside the lab report for the district attorney. "If he had bundled up that purse when he took her to the bridge we never would have known that she had been back to the house, or what she had decided to do with the thumb drive. I must admit, I was as curious about that as anything else."
"You didn't watch it did you?" Cori asked. Finn shook his head.
"It was enough that it was found. It won't play a roll in Matthew's prosecution. I'm hoping no one will ever see it."
The phone on Finn's desk rang and Cori picked it up. She listened and then her brow knit. She held the receiver out to Finn.
"For you. "
"This is Detective O'Brien," he said, turning away from Cori as he listened. When he hung up he said: "I have to be going out for a bit. Can you wrap up here?"
"Sure," Cori said. "Anything I can help with?"
"'Tis a personal matter, but thank you," Finn said. There was no reason to put her in a bind should anyone find out about his chore. He put on his jacket. "Will Amber be picking you up?"
"Lapinski's coming to get me," Cori muttered, dipping her head, looking busy.
"Really. Thomas, is it?" Finn said.
"Don't be snapping my garters, O'Brien. It's a ride, that's all." Cori shooed him away. "Git. Go."
"See you in the morning, then. I hope you'll be giving Thomas my best." He turned away, still chuckling at the lawyer's persistence and Cori's willingness to put up with it.
"Hey, O'Brien," Cori called before he got far. Finn turned in the hall, took a step back and put his hand on the doorjamb to balance himself and attended to her. She said, "It's been driving me nuts and I keep forgetting to ask. Who called Takrit's phone that night?"
"It was an automated reminder about the premier," Finn said.
Cori shook her head. Coincidence, technology, fate, all those things were as much a part of a cop's job as street smarts and real evidence.
"'Nite to you, Cori."
With a wave Finn headed to the parking lot, considering all the things he needed to do before the day was over. As he pushed on the door that would lead him to the parking lot, someone pulled from the other side. This time, it was Detective Morrow Finn was squaring off with.
"I've been looking for you," Finn said, happy to see the man.
"I've had some very busy days," Morrow answered. "How is Detective Anderson?"
"She'll have her cast off in a few more weeks. I wanted to thank you for everything you did."
"I only brought you some of your things," Detective Morrow said. "I didn't think you'd be giving up quite as easily as the captain thought."
"I would have meant no disrespect," Finn laughed. "But you are right."
"Very good, then. Goodbye, Detective O'Brien."
Finn stepped aside so the man could pass. He was part way down the hall when Finn called to him.
"Detective Morrow, might Cori and I be taking you to lunch one day?"
"I think not," he answered. "I lunch at Canter's each day."
Finn nodded. He thought he had made a friend, but it seemed he presumed too much. He put his hand on the door but before he got it all the way open Detective Morrow called back to him.
"However, if you eat lunch precisely at twelve, noon, that is when I lunch. You and Detective Anderson may join me."
"Perhaps we will, Detective Morrow." Finn smiled and went on his way at the same time Morrow went his.
Finn's first stop was a small blue house just west of Little Ethiopia. The grandmother opened the door when he knocked. She was dressed in yellow pants, white tennis shoes and a flowered shirt.
"Good afternoon, missus." Finn gave her a smile and she gave one back. Her hair was fuzzy and grey as it grew out from her mourning and she looked beautiful. "I had a call from a friend. He said you have something for me."
The woman may not have understood Finn's words, but she knew what he wanted. She left the door open as she went to her room. When she returned, she handed Finn an envelope. He looked inside at the handwritten list of names and birthdates.
"Thank you, missus," he said.
When she closed the door Finn started back down the walk intending to be on his way, but curiosity got the best of him. He detoured to the long cracked driveway, walked past the locked door and went to the side of the garage. There was no food platter waiting to be collected and the little patch of concrete had not been swept. The curtain was still drawn. He knocked and then opened the door. The boxes were still there and the old tools, but Aman's mat and duffle were gone as Finn expected.
Finn closed the door, keeping his hand on the knob for a moment, remembering that he had almost lost his life in this building; remembering that he had gazed upon a visage such as he hoped never to see again in this life. But he hadn't died and life went on. When Finn walked back down the drive, he didn't walk alone.
"Hey. Hey, you're back."
Finn looked at the top of the fence but Toby was down low, staring through the slats that didn't quite fit together.
"They're gone you know. Both of 'em."
"I know, Toby," Finn said.
"Want me to call you if see them again? Those dudes are scary. I can call you, like a deputy or something."
"Don't be putting yourself out," Finn said. "They won't be coming back."
Finn started walking and Toby jogged along with him on the other side of the fence, promising to keep in touch just in case. Finn walked on, knowing that there was no sense wasting his breath explaining that Aman and Rada were gone for good. They were gathered up and protected by the people of Little Ethiopia in gratitude for what they had done to Emanuel Dega Abu. And, though he was an officer of the law, Finn O'Brien was fine with that. As far as he was concerned, justice had been done.
Finn got back in his car and drove to his final destination: the Stover estate. The place was a beehive of activity with a moving van parked on the roundabout and men scurrying back and forth with boxes and furniture.
Finn found Sharon Stover in the theater, talking on the phone. She signaled to him to wait for her on the deck, something he did with pleasure for it was a beautiful place. Instead of looking toward the city, though, Finn watched the movers wrap the white couches in plastic and take them away. The paintings on the wall were already gone but when Sharon joined him, Finn didn't ask what she had done with her portrait.
"I'd offer you a drink but the booze is packed up."
"I'm surprised to see you leaving. I read about your success. It seems you are an international sensation."
"I can't compl
ain. It would have been cool though if we sprang it on good old Emanuel the way we planned. I gave the event planner a pretty penny to swap our film for the crap they were scheduled to show."
Finn shook his head. The woman must have crossed every palm in Hollywood to get what she wanted. She turned around and placed her hands on the railings around the deck and looked at the city. "As for the house? I'll buy my own when it's time. Besides, Matt is going to need this money from the sale. He's got a pretty high-priced lawyer."
"Sure, I'm glad you'll be looking after him," Finn said.
"His house, his money. He's eighteen now, so I'm looking after no one but me and my women." She leaned into Finn a little as if conspiring with him. "I thought I could pull it off, you know. I thought I could put the money back in the trust before his birthday." She leaned away and stretched back for a minute. Today her blade was red, finished to a high gloss like the finish on a fine sports car. "I really screwed up, didn't I? If Matthew hadn't seen the trust statement, he never would have known what I'd done. If Takrit hadn't gone to his place looking for me and if I hadn't got caught at the studio, she would still be alive and I would have had that drive. It was pretty fabulous without that footage, but can you imagine how amazing my movie would have been with it?"
"Sure look it," Finn said, and the sadness in his voice escaped Sharon Stover's notice, as did the many truths of this tragedy. As long as she lived the woman would never understand that her work was nothing if she hadn't the heart to feel for the victims of it.
"Anyway, the house is sold, I've had offers for distribution and I'm drowning in funding for new films. Matthew will get his money back and then some."
Finn listened and thought to tell Sharon Stover this was not about money, but trying to explain that to her would be whistling in the wind. She could no more understand Matthew's attachment to her as a mother figure or this house as his home than she could stand on her own two feet again.
"So, what brings you all the way out here?" Sharon asked. "Or did you decide you couldn't live without me?"