THE CHARM OF REVENGE
Page 24
“I'm not surprised.”
“Gotta run, Lieutenant. See ya!”
Donatello looked at the mess of boxes, grabbed the blood report Sasha had left, and sank back down in his seat.
The elevator chimed again, and he felt the smile break on his face at the prospect of seeing Sasha once more, then disappear as Captain Colby barreled toward him, face red and fists clenched.
“My office, Donatello, now! You, too, Carlson, and get Kennedy and Lance in here!” Colby charged past and disappeared into his glass-walled office.
Donatello straightened his jacket, fished in his pocket for the ‘record’ button, and followed Colby into the shark tank, with Carlson two steps behind.
“Shut the door!”
Donatello did as ordered, saw Carlson remained standing and approached the empty chair.
“I said shut the door. You won’t be here long enough to sit down. You’re under arrest for the murders of Black, Walton, and Castro. Hand over your badge and weapon!”
Donatello widened his stance and clasped his hands behind his back. “No.”
“Don’t make this worse than it already is. Weapon and badge, now!”
“What was your connection with Detective Jonah, Colby?”
“It’s Captain Colby, and he was no detective. Take his gun, Carlson!”
“When he was murdered six years ago, did you or did you not take his place as the inside man for a gang of child traffickers?”
Colby shot up from his seat like a sidewinder missile. “I will not listen to this shit from you! I told you, you’re under arrest! Mirandize him, Carlson!”
Donatello held his palm out toward Carlson, who glanced over his shoulder to see if his backup was close enough for him to risk having a go. They weren’t, and Carlson hesitated. “And is it not also true, Colby, that the sole reason you took Jonah’s murder investigation from me was so you could bury it and keep me from finding out about your sick friends and your diabolical sideline?”
“I’m warning you, Donatello—”
“I’ll take that as a yes. So, the reason you have been blocking the investigations of Stark, Black, Walton, and Castro is to cover your involvement with them, and with Cilcifus, Michaels, and Livingston, whose bodies were discovered today at an abandoned sawmill, and with whom you have been running one of the largest child-trafficking rings in the country?”
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You’re under arrest, capisce?” Colby yanked open his desk drawer and pulled out his service revolver.
As he looked up, Donatello’s gun pointed at his face.
Colby glanced at Carlson. “Do something, you useless piece of shit!”
Carlson didn’t move. “Donatello, do you have anything to back this up?”
The muffled chime of the elevator sounded from the other side of the glass office, making Carlson and Colby turn as Inspector Wilkes walked out, flanked by Lance, Kennedy, and three officers from Internal Affairs.
“It’s Lieutenant Donatello to you, Carlson, and yes, IA has in its possession a ledger detailing over two hundred payments to this douche bag over the past six years.” He faced Colby. “And they’re raiding your house as we speak; so in fact, Colby, it’s you that’s under arrest.”
80. DAISY’S GRAVE
Sunday, 1:00 p.m.
A warm front had moved through overnight, washing away the gloom, to leave the marble gravestones and freshly laid flowers glistening in the morning sun.
Around the foot of Daisy’s grave, Brad stood with one arm over Jack’s shoulder and the other over Lola’s. Marcus flanked her on the other side, while Lilly crouched beside the gravestone, idly playing with Mopsey.
There was only one other person in the cemetery, wearing a black trench coat and standing more than a dozen rows away with his back to them.
Brad reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the black pouch, loosened the red cord, and slid the bracelet out. Crouching down, he lifted the lid of the small square marble box fixed to the base of the gravestone and laid the bracelet with its ten silver charms inside. “Rest in peace now, Daisy.”
“Amen,” Lilly whispered, pulling Mopsey’s head off, and placing it in the box on top of Daisy’s bracelet.
“Amen.” Lola wiped her tears and looked at the approaching figure.
“Hello, Mr. Fairweather. How’s that face of yours?”
“Sore, Lieutenant.” Brad scanned the cemetery for the armada of police cruisers. “What can I do for you?”
“You look like you haven’t been sleeping. Perhaps you should try that book I mentioned.”
Brad forced a weak smile. “Perhaps I will.”
“I hope you don’t mind me coming over. I was paying my respects to my mother and dear departed wife and thought I recognized you. I’m sorry for your loss. Was she…?”
“She was our daughter, Lieutenant.”
Donatello shook his head somberly. “It’s terrible to lose someone you love.” He twisted around to read the inscription on the gravestone. “My partner, Jonah, died that same year.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“We never apprehended the perpetrator.”
“Can’t catch ’em all, I guess.” Brad glanced at Jack, who was staring at the cop.
“Maybe you’re right, I guess, but it's usually just a matter of time.” Donatello extended his hand toward Marcus. “I didn’t catch your name, sir?”
“Marcus Fairweather.” He reached out and shook the cop’s hand.
Donatello’s brow furrowed momentarily as he glanced from Marcus to Brad. Then his eyes fell to Marcus’s exposed wrist. He rotated Marcus’s hand. “That’s a lovely skeleton watch, Mr. Fairweather. Quite a rare piece, I believe. My partner Jonah had one just like it.” He looked Marcus in the eyes. “Perhaps it’s a sign I should reopen the investigation into his murder.”
“Lieutenant!” Brad interrupted. “If you don’t mind, we’re having a private family gathering to pay our respects to our daughter.”
“Ah, yes, family. Actually, it’s Captain Donatello now.” He released Marcus’s hand, “but that’s not why I came over.”
“Then?”
“We had a breakthrough on the Damian Black case you got questioned about.”
“So it’s all over?”
“It is now.”
Brad’s eyes welled as he looked at Lilly and Jack, perhaps for the last time. “How did you find out?”
Donatello looked at him quizzically. “That’s confidential, but evidence came to light linking several rogue IRS divisions to an um,” he stole a glance at Lilly, “a trafficking ring.”
“I don’t understand. What does that have to do with me?”
“It seems a division, calling themselves the Westside Gang, were eliminating their competition, and sadly, Mr. Black got caught in the conflict.”
Brad felt a wave of relief wash over him. “The IRS? How poetic.” His eyes met Lola’s, as he smiled, then grimaced, as the split in his lip opened.
“Am I missing something?” Donatello said.
Pulling a tissue from his pocket, Brad dabbed the blood from his lip. “Well, um, wasn’t Al Capone, the boss of Chicago’s Westside Gang?”
“I still don’t follow.”
“Capone was convicted of tax evasion, and here’s an IRS gang going by the same name.”
Donatello nodded somberly. “You’re right. I guess that is poetic. Anyway, I’m sorry again for your loss, Mr. Fairweather, may God rest your daughter’s soul.”
“I believe he will, now.”
Donatello nodded. “Oh, one last thing. You know, you would have made it easier for yourself if you’d told us during questioning.”
“Told you what, Captain?”
Donatello glanced at Marcus, then locked eyes with Brad. “That Damian Black was your biological father.”
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To be continued…
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