Fourth Wall (An Anthony Carrick Mystery Book 8)

by Jason Blacker

  “So do you know who might have stolen the credit card and Mr. Emmett’s handgun?” I asked.

  Labecki shook his head.

  “I can’t say for certain. Gary and I left the after-party just shortly before midnight. We thought we’d leave the younger people to their night of celebration. We were the first to leave. I suppose if I must guess it was probably Gina and/or Clifton.”

  “Can you speak to their relationship?” I asked.

  “I think so. I’m pretty sure that Clifton was smitten with her.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He hung off her every word. He wouldn’t leave her side the few times I’ve seen them together. He seemed very protective of her. Though I’m not sure the reverse was true. I didn’t get the sense that she was as smitten with him. In fact, the best I could get out of her was that he was ‘nice’.”

  “How long had they been dating?” I asked.

  Labecki shrugged.

  “As much as Gina seems like a lovely young woman, she’s still quite the closed book. I think they met just by happenstance at a coffee shop earlier this year. That’s all I know I’m afraid. Apparently he’d proposed to her just a few weeks ago.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Anna Ancher. We’re neighbors and we’ve had her over every so often.”

  “So you’re not aware of Ms. Penman’s difficulties she endured while at Millstone Academy?”

  “What difficulties?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

  “Well,” I said, “we believe that Ms. Penman’s involvement in these murders is an act of revenge for her rape at the hands of those involved when she was at Millstone Academy.”

  “Good God,” said a surprised Labecki, “I had no idea. Poor girl. Who was involved?”

  “Beale and Ancher egged on Orpen who committed the crime, we believe. We don’t know of Gudaitis’ involvement at the moment, though he was and perhaps still is, the best friend of Orpen.”

  Labecki shook his head and squinted. He was trying to make sense of this news.

  “If only I’d known. If only she’d told me. I would have helped her get the counseling she needed. I would have helped her find a better way to deal with it.”

  He paused for a moment.

  “I guess now I know what she and Gudaitis were talking about at Anna’s party.”

  “What were they talking about?”

  “Well, Gudaitis was saying something about being quite happy to kill the bastard that did that to her. He said something about having the gun and he was ready anytime. Gina said that she’d let him know when the time was right. They saw me as I walked in on them in the bedroom. I was looking for her and the door was open. I wanted to let her know that Gary and I were leaving and asked if she wanted a ride. She said no, she said that she wanted to help clean up a bit and make Anna some hot chocolate before she left as a thank you. I asked them what they were doing in the bedroom. I was just being a concerned father figure I guess. She said nothing, that Gudaitis was just helping her run some lines for the play she was thinking of doing next. That’s what I thought the talk of shooting someone was all about. You must understand that they didn’t mention any names.”

  “But you didn’t think it was odd?” I asked.

  Labecki looked at me for a while.

  “Yes, it did seem a little odd. But then these actor types are quite odd.” He said it without any irony.

  “They are indeed, except that Gina’s not an actor, is she?”

  “Well, she wants to be, and she’s been going on auditions for some time now and in fact she has landed a small role in a play recently. So you can see how it all seemed plausible at the time.”

  “And all this time, as first Anna and then Mary and now William Orpen were murdered, you never suspected a thing?” I asked.

  “No, not at all. I mean it’s tragic of course. And especially because Gina knew them all. But how could I suspect anything? I didn’t know what had happened to Gina at the Academy. As far as it looked to me, Gina and Mary and Anna were all quite friendly, at least the few times that I had seen them together. She never gave me reason to doubt that. She told me they had been friends at school but had lost contact.”

  Labecki sighed.

  “Look, I hate to get Gina into trouble…”

  “She’s gotten herself into trouble,” I clarified.

  Labecki nodded.

  “Right. I don’t know how to explain this any better to you. Gina’s my flesh and blood. And I don’t know if you understand, but in my mind that’s not enough to make you a father or a parent. Just because I donated, in a sense, a part of myself to the woman she’s become, doesn’t make me her father…”

  “I do understand, I am a father, and it requires a lot of work.”

  “Exactly, but more than that, it requires the hard miles. It requires forming that bond over the years as they grow up. At least I think it does, I can’t say for certain. I like Gina, she always struck me as a kind and pleasant, soft spoken woman. And like I said, I never reached out to connect, she did. We’ve had some good times together, but I don’t feel like I owe her anything. I’m satisfied that she was brought up by good hard working people. She’s had a good life and a good childhood, other than that awful business you just told me about.”

  I understood. I think I really did.

  “But I’m old enough and wise enough to know that at times she was trying to abuse my kindness and what she thought was my vulnerability in being her lost biological father. But she was mistaken and we butted heads on occasion because of it. I wouldn’t say we’re extremely close. But that’s mainly to do with her. Our relationship if you will, is driven by her wants and needs. Seldom when I reach out to her is she willing to see me, so over the years I’ve let her drive the course of our friendship, and it’s not particularly deep. Even Gary thinks that Gina is more about what’s in it for her. Though that doesn’t of course discount her kindness.”

  “Just to wrap up this interview. Tell me about how the gun ended up in your garden?”

  Labecki raised his hands palms up, together because he was in handcuffs.

  “Like I told you yesterday, I have no idea. Someone must have planted it. But we haven’t had any visitors over since Saturday night, and none of them even know Gina or Clifton or any of that bunch.”

  He looked back over at his lawyer. Cano decided to chime in.

  “You and I know it must have been planted. And if you dust for prints, you might find partials of my clients, if only because he held the gun at the after-party. What you need to do, Anthony, is dust for prints on the remaining cartridges,” said Cano.

  “We’re doing exactly that and the results will be in soon. As for the handgun ending up in your client’s backyard, I took a trip from Serrania Ridge Trail down to the back end of your backyard, Mr. Labecki. Someone had cut a hole in the city’s fence and then in your fence too. So it looks like they came in from the Park side to plant the handgun.”

  “There you go,” said Cano.

  “I should’ve thought to look for that,” said Labecki.

  “Hard to see from inside your property,” I said, “and you were in shock. Naturally.”

  There was tapping on the one way mirror from the observation deck. Labecki and Cano were facing it and looked up. I didn’t turn around, because I knew there was nothing to see. It meant I was wanted outside. I’d pretty much wrapped this up anyway.

  “You may need to testify at trial about what you’ve told me,” I said.

  “My client is aware,” said Cano. “Are we free to go?”

  I was about to answer when there was a knock at the door and Beeves rushed in.

  “You’ve gotta come, quickly,” he said.

  There was surprise and shock on his face.

  “Give me a minute,” I said, standing up and exiting the room after Beeves.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  A Pain in the Neck

  THE interrogation room looked like a
slaughterhouse. There was blood everywhere, and in the middle of it was Gina Penman. She was lying on her back on the upturned chair she had been sitting on which was now on the floor. Blood was on everything. On most of the walls as if someone had come in with a hose and sprayed it indiscriminately. There was some blood on the table and the yellow pad that was on that table. A pencil was on the floor, the sharpened half red with sticky blood and the other half still yellow with the pink eraser on top.

  Her hands were still in handcuffs across her stomach. It was clear as day what had happened. She’d taken the pencil and stuck it into her jugular.

  I looked at the yellow pad. There were a couple of drawings of what looked like anime characters. One was of a female character with a large bosom, and she had been re-drawn to show her cutting off the head of another anime character, this one was male. The rest of the page had the neat handwriting of what I guessed was Gina’s. Roberts was not in the room. Beeves and I were.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Not sure,” he said. “Roberts is in the observation room reviewing the footage. Looks like she stabbed herself with a pencil.”

  “You mean his pencil. Jesus, why did he leave it with her?”

  Beeves shrugged.

  I walked to the opposite side of the table from where the body was and started to read the handwriting upside down. It wasn’t easy, but the neatness of the writing helped.

  “I want to make this easy on Kyle. He had nothing to do with any of the murders. I want you to know that. I maybe haven’t treated him as well as I should have because I was upset that he gave me up as a baby. But I’ve since come to believe that he was only trying to do what was best for me. And maybe what he did was best for me. My mother and father have worked hard to give me a good start in life, even if it meant that putting me in the best school meant I’d be raped by the fucking assholes who thought I wasn’t good enough to be there. I’ll never forgive them for any of that, including Clifton Gudaitis.

  And as for Clifton, he thought he loved me. But I never loved him. He might not have been at the party where I was raped, but he knew about it and he did nothing. Not until I got him to love me. Then he was like, oh darling, I’ll do anything for you. So I had him kill his best friend. Yeah, that’s right Clifton shot William Orpen because I asked him to.

  As for Mary Beale and Anna Ancher, those bitches deserved what came to them. And what came to them was vengeance at my hand. They thought it’d be funny to have William rape me and they egged him on. I was gonna go and get Patricia Kordel and Miki Smelter, but I guess you’ve saved them now having caught up with me. They might not have been fully on board with my rape but they didn’t do anything to stop it.

  And I’m not sorry. I only wish they’d suffered more. I guess Mary did, I watched her convulse and foam at the mouth and gasp for air from the wings of the theater. Anna got off easy, falling asleep and then drowning. But I didn’t have a chance to come up with a better plan for her. You might think I’m a psychopath but I’m not. I don’t wish anyone harm, only those who harmed me. They raped me and they ruined my life. I’ve never forgiven them and I’m not sorry I did it.

  Oh yeah, and the last thing. You’ll find the brown box under Clifton’s bed in his apartment. It’s the box that contained the ethylene glycol and arsenic I bought to murder Mary. Some of it is still left in there. I guess I bought more than I need. Please pass it on to someone else who might benefit from it like I have :) And there’s also a couple of rounds that have his fingerprints on it that match those used to kill William. Idiot thought he was in love. Now he can think about it for the rest of his life in prison, that asshole.

  Peace out bitches,

  GP”

  That was all that was written. It just fit on the one page. Her handwriting was small. Roberts was gonna use this to get out of owing me the Jackson. He’s gonna say that her confession means he won and I owe him a Benjamin. I’m inclined to agree. I didn’t want to fight about it, not under these circumstance.

  I understood her pain. Can’t condone what she did, especially ending herself like she did. I walked over to the side of the table and looked down at her. She was someone’s daughter. In fact she was three someone’s daughter. But she just didn’t know how to reach out. I thought of Aibhilin. I was gonna have to have a conversation with her. She’d think it was weird and awkward, but I needed her to know she could always reach out, about anything at anytime.

  “Fuck,” I said, under my breath. More rubber neck cops were peaking into the room.

  “What?” asked Beeves. He was keeping the scene clear, not letting anyone in.

  “I think I owe Roberts a Benjamin,” I said, smiling at him. Sometimes black humor is all we’ve got. Beeves looked at me for a good long while. Then he burst out laughing. I let him laugh for a while.

  “Honestly though,” I said. “This is fucked up. Not how it should have been.”

  Roberts came back into the room. I’d never seen him so ashen and shook up. I went over and put my hand on his shoulder.

  “How’re you doing, JR?” I asked.

  “Like shit,” he said, looking at me. “I should’ve never left my pencil. IA’s gonna be all over me like a cluster fuck.”

  I nodded my head. It was true, but he didn’t need to hear it from me. But he was still a good cop. I think he might just get a suspension and they’d call it a day.

  “But she was a good drawer. She’d already drawn that cartoon, that anime shit. I just thought she wanted to draw some more. I was trying to build rapport. You know how it is.”

  I nodded some more. Captain Marino Segovia, handsome hispanic man around my age, stepped into the room. He was a religious man. A staunch Catholic and he crossed himself when he saw the body. He turned to us.

  “I think we should all leave the room,” he said. He ushered us outside.

  “Ken Kitakawa has been notified as has Luca Abt. It’s in their hands now. Perhaps you three should head upstairs and try and get composure before their detectives arrive.”

  Luca Abt was a tall stocky man of German descent. He was probably six four or five with a bushy mustache. He was born here and had no accent. He was also the Chief of Detectives. This meant he was Roberts’ direct superior, and Luca would probably send a couple of his favorite detectives to help Ken and his men investigate.

  Ken, or Kenichi Kitakawa was also a Deputy Chief. Though he was in charge of the Professional Standards Bureau under which IA operated. They’d probably take lead on this incident. Ken was a small, wiry man with a quiet and pleasant disposition. If I could say one thing about him, it was that he was fair.

  Roberts nodded at Segovia, and he and Beeves started down the hallway for the stairs to lead them upstairs where we had been once already today, waiting for our suspects.

  “You too, Anthony,” said Segovia to me. I nodded at him, but I wasn’t listening. I headed past him and turned into the interrogation room I had just recently exited. Labecki and Cano were looking at me as I came in. I didn’t sit down. I went over to Labecki and released him of the handcuffs.

  “What’s going on, Anthony?” asked Cano as he and Labecki stood to leave.

  I looked at them steadily for a moment.

  “I’m afraid Gina Penman committed suicide in the next room,” I said.

  “Good God,” said a visibly shaken Labecki, sitting back down again.

  “What happened?” asked Cano.

  “I don’t know if I can trust you on this,” I said to him. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Depends what happened,” he said.

  “Well,” I said, “Roberts could use your help.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Nothing. He made a small error in judgement.”

  Cano looked at me for a long while and I held his gaze.

  “If I can help him, I will,” said Cano.

  I nodded.

  “He left a pencil and pad of paper with her when he left. She’d previously done som
e drawing and he was trying to develop rapport. He thought she wanted to do some more drawing. I might have done the same. Except she used the pencil to stab herself in the neck.”

  “Shit,” said Cano. “That’s not going to help. Poor woman.”

  “It’s an honest mistake, Mike, you know how it goes. John’s a good cop.”

  Cano looked at me and nodded. Then he looked down at the floor for a moment. He put his hand on Labecki’s shoulder.

  “Let me get you home,” he said to him.

  Labecki stood up and they walked towards the door. Cano turned when he got there.

  “Get him to call me before he says a word to IA,” said Cano.

  I nodded and watched them leave the room. I stood in that empty space for a long while thinking. Thinking about how a woman could use a pencil to stab herself to death. Thinking about my friend and partner who’d be dragged through shit. Thinking of how I wanted to have punched Orpen in the face as an entitled teenage little shit he was, so that I wouldn’t have to stand here thinking about how I’d liked to have punched him in the fucking face.

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