I am confused. I ask what this all has to do with me.
Agent Shyler looks into my eyes and says the unbelievable. “It was Donny who shot you, Matt. Only he knew where you were going that day.”
“No,” I say, disbelieving. “He’d left for Italy by then.”
She shakes her head. “He didn’t leave for Rome until later that night. We tracked his flight from JFK. It took off at 11:30 p.m., hours after you were being treated in the emergency room. Here is a photograph of Donny at the airport. Do you notice anything about your friend?”
I am boiling now, and it completely shows. My face must be turning purple as I recognize the new white Reebok sneakers without any scuffs—on the feet of my partner, and friend, Donny Mello. How can I have been so stupid? Donny isn’t my friend. He has been using me. He is a real piece of shit capable of murder. And worse. I have let him destroy my credibility with Cipriano’s death. I cannot get out of that scenario without going to jail, and I am not about to let Cynthia in on my secret. I know she would lock my ass up in a heartbeat.
“How did they get such a good photograph of Donny’s feet?” I say boiling over in anger.
Cynthia is watching my reactions. “Since 9/11,” she says, “the security cameras at airports have improved drastically. We gave the Port Authority the heads up to observe Donny in the airport. We wanted to see his demeanor and what he was carrying with him. He had more suitcases than normal, indicating to us that he wasn’t planning on coming back any time soon. He may have never come back, but he did as soon as word got out you were still alive. He has an alias that he uses in Italy, Paolo Fretti. Have you ever heard that name before?”
“No,” I say in disbelief. Why would Donny need an alias? He is a fucking cop!
Cynthia looks at me, and I am frightened to hear her next question. “Matt, why would Donny want to kill you? It is obvious he was tying up some loose ends here in the States so he could live out his birthright as a mob boss.”
I keep my expression stone cold. I can’t let this beautiful woman know my darkest secret. I am baffled and confused at what is apparent. Donny wants me dead so the Cipriano thing can never surface.
Lying to an FBI agent is a federal offense. Being charged with a conspiracy federally will put you in jail for a long time. I have to be calculating with my responses, because I am sure at this point I cannot trust Cynthia. Even though Frank Cipriano was a dirt bag and deserved his horrible death, I am not so sure this federal agent would agree with my involvement.
I look at Cynthia and feel an instant connection to this woman. I had forgotten how beautiful she really is. Her official title makes her even sexier. I envision myself on a date with her. Hearing stories about her work in organized crime would entertain me for hours.
But that isn’t possible. This woman is looking to bust Donny for my shooting, and I have no choice but to let it happen. I still have some doubt about Donny being the shooter, so I express my reservations to Cynthia. She glances at me with a look of sadness as she takes out a small voice recorder. She presses play. I instantly recognize Donny’s voice.
“He has to go. It hurts, but that’s the only way I can leave.”
When Cynthia stops the recording, my skepticism fades completely. Donny is guilty and hid from my eyes—the one set of eyes that could see right through him. I am so mad at myself for being conned into his world.
My next thoughts are of Captain Grassio and whether he has any knowledge of the totality of Donny’s actions.
I ask Cynthia if there are any other cops in Hutchville PD who conspired with Donny Mello in my shooting.
Cynthia says, “Absolutely not.”
If I choose to believe her—and I do right now—it means Donny has lied about Captain Grassio’s involvement from the beginning. My closest friend and partner is now my enemy, but I still have to work with him on this rape case. I can’t burst into the Captain’s office and ask to be reassigned; he would never entertain that. It would be too obvious to Donny. He would try to take me out even faster. I have to play dumb about this scenario.
Cynthia apologizes for the bad news but reaffirms her department’s commitment to take Donny down as soon as possible. There is one sticking point, though; they don’t have enough evidence for a conviction.
Cynthia asks if I will wear a wire to record Donny, to which I outright refuse. Cynthia also wants me to know that Fabrizio Demarco has just flown in to LaGuardia airport this morning and is meeting up with Donny tonight in Manhattan.
I thank Cynthia for her information, promising not to divulge anything, as I would be charged with a federal offense. Just what I want to hear at seven in the morning. I offer Cynthia coffee, and she surprisingly agrees. My K-cup coffeemaker pours out a cup of java in seconds. I hand it to Cynthia, surprised to learn she prefers her coffee black, even though she has cream and sugar written all over her adorable face. Cynthia appears truly concerned for my well-being. I am obviously distressed and the situation is causing me great anguish.
“Matt, we have a surveillance team in place following Donny’s every move. Even so, it would behoove you to take some time off. We are concerned that Fabrizio’s arrival may have something to do with you.”
“Cynthia, I can’t just walk away from my job. I have to find the creep who raped this young girl. I have to portray an air of normalcy around Donny. He was acting weird around me yesterday. I can’t let him think the same about me.”
Cynthia hands me her card with her personal cell phone number on the back. “Please, call me if you have any information, Matt. And wear your vest, please.”
I thank Cynthia as she walks out my door.
After I close my door, I collapse into my bed with a raging headache. The migraine is pulsating on the right top of my forehead, and I can’t open my eyes. I am left with a tough decision to contemplate. Donny tried to kill me, plain and simple. He is a killer whom I have seen in action. He is cool, calm, and calculating. I have the same acquired skills as Donny and am thinking now of the unbelievable. These scumbags are going to try and take me out again. Isn’t that what Fabrizio is here for? My headache is raging and unpleasant. I need to get up and take a few ibuprofen. I get out of my bed and look out the window to see that black Charger out front with Cynthia sitting in the driver’s seat on her cell phone. I can’t imagine who she is talking to, but I am thankful for her genuine concern.
I walk into my kitchen and retrieve Advil from a shelf above the sink. I scoop up water with my hand as I swallow three pills in unison. My stomach is sick and queasy. I feel like vomiting but hold my breath and withstand the urge. I need the pills to work, so I lie back in my bed wishing Cynthia was lying next to me. I think I have a crush on this federal agent. Wouldn’t that relationship be interesting? She does have an obligation to notify me of the attempt on my life. However, I wonder if there is any interest in me on her part.
My cell phone rings again at seven-thirty, only this time it is Captain Grassio. “Matt, are we ready to rock and roll today? I want to catch this pig.”
“Yes, Captain, I have the DVD on my desk and I will hit it hard as soon as I get in.”
“What’s the matter, Matt—is everything all right?” the Captain asks out of concern.
“Nothing, Cap. I have a blinding headache. I’ll be on my way in thirty minutes.” I hang up the phone and look out my window again to see that Cynthia has left. I wonder if that will be the last time I see her.
I arrive at work before eight to find the detective division empty. I quickly sign onto my computer and pop the DVD into the tray. I need to load software from the DVD in order to see the video footage. I am operational within minutes to begin searching for our rapist. The shirt I had processed is in an evidence bag awaiting transport to our county lab for analysis.
The door to the detective division opens slowly. I immediately feel sick but for no reason as Franny walks through the door. I am glad to see him and wonder how he would feel knowing Donny tried to kill his
older brother. Franny is hot-tempered, so I am certain it wouldn’t be a good confession for him to hear. It is definitely something I will have to do because my brother is the only person I trust completely. He is not aware of Cipriano’s tale but that is for his own protection. Franny is tuned in to Donny’s family situation as we have talked numerous times about it.
“Hey, Franny, are you around tonight? I need to talk.”
“Yeah sure, Matt. What’s up?”
“I can’t talk about it here.” I stop, unsure how to go on. Then add, “I really need it to stay in the family.”
Franny understands. We agree to meet at my apartment around eight. Franny has been assigned to me to help out on this rape investigation, so I send him to bring the shirt up to the lab for analysis. He is also going to make our coffee and breakfast pickup because we are both starving.
After Franny leaves, within minutes Captain Grassio and Chief Ramsey walk into my office. “How’s it going? Any breaks yet?” the Chief asks. You have to love this guy. He is from a different time. A DVD video surveillance disc is way out of his realm of thinking. He still types his department memos on a typewriter and refuses to enter the twenty-first century age of computers. He hasn’t done any investigative work in ages and the way things are today with DNA, he would be lost for sure.
“All we have is the shirt and this video. That’s it,” I say as both men leave my office.
Captain Grassio knows I will call immediately when I have something.
Donny Mello walks in at nine on the nose, sporting a very expensive looking suit. This is surprising to me because Donny hates wearing a suit and tie even more than myself. When he received a grand jury subpoena, he would flip and immediately call Zia Maria to press his suit. I ask if I missed the memo, and he just laughs. This son of a bitch is Lucifer to me at this point, but I need to be smart. I know he is looking for an opportunity to kill me. I’m not going to give him one, especially with Franny by my side. What is Donny Mello going to do, kill us both?
Chapter Sixteen: Dead Man Walking
The glare from the sun coming in through the windows makes the video footage hard to examine. Donny hangs over my shoulder and his breathing causes the hairs on my neck to stand up. I want to shoot him in the chest just like he did to me. How the hell would I get away with killing a cop? If his mob associates found out I pulled the trigger, I would be dead.
I would never see them coming.
The only picture I had seen was of Fabrizio Demarco—pure muscle in a short package. I think Fabrizio is the reason for Donny’s custom made suit. He doesn’t want to look like a bum when his Italian hit man arrives.
Thanks to Agent Shyler, I won’t be their victim tonight. I am planning on being their worst adversary to date. I have never killed anyone in my life, but that is about to change. Donny has violated my trust, and I am the only one blocking his exit to a new life. I wonder what Captain Grassio would say about all this turmoil. Would he be able to stop it if he was aware of the firestorm brewing under his watch?
At around 12:15 p.m. on the video footage, a white male wearing a long sleeve white Rolling Stones shirt and blue shorts walks into Taku. My eyes are fixated on this asshole, my concentration sharp even though my worst enemy stands behind me. The guy with the white shirt walks up to the camera nearest the front counter. His face is flushed and he seems out of breath. He orders food at the counter before heading into the bathroom. He appears to be in a big rush and shows the signs of someone in trouble by constantly looking around, especially towards the front door. There is no audio on this disc, which makes it seem like an old Charlie Chaplain movie without the humor. I remember my grandfather telling me how much he loved those movies when he was a kid.
As he exits the restroom, he is wearing a black T-shirt and red shorts. The basketball shorts he was wearing were reversible, and he must have had a black T-shirt underneath the long sleeve rock and roll shirt. The only other alternative would have been a clothing stash in the bathroom of Taku, which was unlikely. The little bastard had disguised his appearance. What a smart asshole.
The camera on the outside of Taku shows this guy taking his Chinese food outside and sitting on the stoop. Within a couple of minutes he walks into the door next to the restaurant. Could this have been any easier? This moron has given us a ground ball.
Franny arrives just in time. I have him run Taku’s address on our computer system. The in-house department computer keeps a database of all residents within the Town of Hutchville according to their address. 1130 Main Street has two listings, one for Taku and another for a Leonard Kepler. My adrenaline is running on high, especially since it appears we may have our guy. But Donny is oddly quiet. I don’t know if I have given him some sort of weird vibe or if he is simply planning my death. The words “fucking shitbag” come to my mind.
Franny takes off to run a criminal background check through New York State on Mr. Kepler. In less than five minutes he is back in my office with the results, wearing a big smile on his face. “This prick has a prior for public lewdness,” Franny says, excitedly, trying to hold in his satisfaction.
“Well, Franny, taking a leak in public doesn’t constitute someone as a rapist,” I say, not wanting to shatter my brother’s mood.
“Well,” Franny fires back, “this public lewdness wasn’t for urination. This psycho was caught rubbing his penis on a car window occupied by two females. Since he had no prior arrests, his scumbag lawyer got him off on the charge.”
That is why I hate the criminal justice system.
“It happened in Manhattan,” Franny continues, making it even better. “I just got off the phone with a detective in the 17th precinct.”
Leonard Kepler should have stayed in Manhattan. Since he didn’t, he would get nailed in Hutchville. I am gunning for Ms. Burton’s justice. I want this son of a bitch in a jail cell, done professionally and the right way. There is already a paper trail, so Donny is going to have a difficult time killing Leonard. I’m not sure yet if I have enough evidence to get Leonard charged. I need the DNA back on the Stones shirt for my case to explode. I look at Donny and Franny. “Let’s go see the boss.”
Captain Grassio is on the phone with Mayor Benson when we enter the office. The Captain motions us to have a seat as he is saying, “My guys will find this animal, Mayor, you have my word. We are going to need some money from the reserve budget to authorize overtime.” He hangs up, looking drained.
Franny is smiling from ear to ear.
“What the fuck are you smiling at, Francis?” Captain Grassio snaps.
“I think we may have found the rape suspect, Captain,” Franny says, annoyed to be called by his real name.
Captain Grassio looks at Donny and me, gesturing for someone to get on with the information. I don’t give Donny a chance to speak. “Captain, the video footage shows a white male entering Taku, heading to the bathroom wearing the suspect’s described clothing. He exited wearing red shorts and a black tee. The male then collected his food and walked out front, and sat on the stoop next to Taku. The camera shows him enter the doorway directly next to the restaurant, which leads to an apartment upstairs. The suspect’s name is Leonard Kepler. He has a prior for public lewdness in New York City.”
“Public lewdness? He got caught taking a leak after partying in Manhattan?” the Captain says, playing devil’s advocate.
“The public lewdness was for pressing his pecker on the driver’s side window of a car occupied by two females,” Franny blurts, not holding anything back.
“Fucking awesome! This is a huge break,” Captain Grassio shrieks. “Is the shirt back from the lab yet?”
Franny keeps with it. “Captain, I dropped it off at the lab this morning. It won’t be ready for a few days.”
“Okay, Matt, get a DNA sample from this Kepler guy. Follow him until we get something. A cigarette, water bottle, anything with his saliva on it. You’re on him twenty-four-seven. Keep Franny with you. Good job, men! Hey Donny, wh
at’s up with the suit, do you want to handle the press on this rape?” Captain Grassio asks.
“Nah, Cap, I have a wake to attend later. I didn’t want to have to change twice.”
Not my wake, you dickhead, I think as I leave the Captain’s office with Franny in tow.
Franny and I leave headquarters in my Jeep looking like two guys returning from a day at the beach. The August sun is blazing hot and the Wrangler’s lack of a roof makes the ride from headquarters relaxing. I want to talk to Franny about Donny, but I promise myself to concentrate on Leonard Kepler.
Ms. Burton had indicated she would be able to identify her attacker from a photograph, so Donny is on his way to her house to bring a line-up sheet for identification. The sheet contains a six-pack identification chart with Leonard’s driver’s license picture and five other photos of random people who looked similar to Kepler. We are hoping for a positive identification to bolster our case. However, the DNA evidence is sure to be a lock. If it comes back positive. If a hair or any type of fluid from Ms. Burton is on the Rolling Stones shirt along with Kepler’s DNA, we are golden for an arrest.
Across the street from Kepler’s apartment is a parking lot for commuters taking the train into Grand Central. It is a perfect vantage point from which to watch Kepler’s building. I pull the Jeep into an open spot facing the building at a distance of one hundred yards. There is a clear line of sight to Kepler’s lobby door that Franny is checking with binoculars. The building has a stone facade with a black fire escape attached to the front. There appears to be only one small apartment above Taku. And it houses, in my opinion, the second most wanted man in Hutchville.
My cell phone rings. The screen shows Donny’s name on it. I send the call directly to voicemail. I am so disgusted by this guy; I fear it is starting to show.
“Who was that?” Franny asks, keeping the binoculars up to his eyes.
In A Small Town (A Small Town Series Book 1) Page 12