by Denise Irwin
Leona thanked him on her way out to the car. She went back the way she came and found the jail without issue.
“Leona, take the car and go for a ride. I don’t know how long this will take.”
She pointed across the road, “Look over there Sam, there’s a park. I’ll go back to the convenience store, grab a cup of coffee and then I’ll take your book that’s sitting on the backseat along with Bailey to that park.” If he thought she was going to take a drive, he’d lost his freaking mind.
“Okay, but this might take a while.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“If it drags out I’ll send an officer out to tell you to go back to the hotel. I can catch a ride home with Bradley.”
Bradley was in the reception area when Sam walked through the door. Before the two started down the hall, Sam asked the Officer on Duty, “Can you keep an eye out for a crazy woman and her mutt over in the park? She’s my fiancée and tends to get herself into trouble.”
The OD laughed and promised he would keep an eye out for a crazy broad and her dog.
As they walked toward the interview room, Bradley asked, “Sam, have you seen Cassie?”
“Leona and I stopped by the hospital on the way here. Marshal, Cassie told me this morning Grossman told her he was part of the money-laundering scheme. He had boxes full of cash stashed in the basement.”
“We found them. After you left the crime scene, we were able to get search warrants on short notice from both the federal bench and the state. Sam, I know you have personal reasons for wanting him dead, so when you go through that door remember you’re a professional investigator. I don’t want to take you into custody for harming the bandit.”
Sam chuckled, “Thanks for the reminder. Before I forget, Cassie also told me she managed to get photos of the crates in the casino’s kitchen with her cell phone. The photos are time stamped. She forwarded those photos to a guy named Rudy at the casino.”
Marshal chuckled, “I know Rudy, so I’ll send someone to the casino to get those photos.”
“One last thing, do you know where her dog is?”
“The dog found dead at her feet?”
“That’s the one. I promised Cassie I’d ask about him. She wants to cremate him that is of course, if he hasn’t been disposed of already.
“I’ll check around.”
When Sam entered the room alone, he was pleased to see that Grossman was in handcuffs and ankle chains. Sam presumed Grossman had been a bit out of order for the police and they cuffed him. He took his seat across from FBI Agent Bruce Grossman. Grossman’s chair faced the mirror, so Bradley could watch Grossman’s face during the interview. Sam took his notebook out of his jacket pocket and set it on the table. He waited a few minutes then he took his pen out of his pocket and set it next to the notebook.
Sam studied the man across the table. He was a young, thin, greasy haired thug. Sam waited for this bastard to make the first move. Their eyes locked on one another. Sam didn’t know if this slime ball knew who he was, but Sam presumed he did not. It was so quiet in the room; Sam heard the second hand advance on the wall clock. He continued to wait patiently for Grossman to look away.
Someone opened the door and entered the room to set a cup of coffee next to Sam’s notebook. He had no idea who it was since he didn’t move his eyes to look; instead, he kept them locked on Grossman’s eyes.
Grossman lifted his handcuffed hands and gave the finger to whoever was on the other side of the glass. “What the fuck? I could use a cup of coffee, assholes.”
He looked at Sam. “Just who the fuck, are you?”
“My name is Sam Marksman.”
“What does that mean to me?”
Sam folded his hands on the notebook, and looked Grossman in the eye, “Nothing; it means nothing at all to you.”
“Then, why are you here?”
Sam held off answering Grossman’s question for a few minutes. He let the tension in the room build.
“I’m here to ask why you shackled FBI Agent Cassandra Henson to the wall in your basement.”
“I don’t fucking have to answer that question.
Sam calmly told Grossman, “Of course, you don’t. Let me ask an easier question; one you might be able to answer. Why did you have your alarm systems set up with laser beams around your house?”
“It’s a security system.”
“What were you protecting?”
Grossman’s right eye started to twitch. “I set it up to protect my personal belongings.”
“Why did you tell the Boston Bureau Director that you didn’t need a communication room?”
Grossman smirked at Sam, “I’m not going to answer that question.”
Sam slowly and deliberately stood from his chair. Sitting across from him was a lying son of a bitch. Grossman had no idea what Sam meant by a communication room. Cassie and Joe Schuman confirmed there wasn’t one. If Grossman had no idea what a communication room was, Sam became suspicious of his title of FBI Agent Bruce Grossman.
Sam left the interview room to speak with Bradley. Bradley asked him, “What’s up?”
“Did you fingerprint Grossman when you brought him in?”
“We usually wait until we charge the individual.”
“Don’t wait. Let’s get his fingerprints into the FBI’s hands. I’m beginning to doubt that he’s an agent and that the call to the Boston Office recommending Grossman was made either from Grossman or someone else not related to the Bureau.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I was with the Bureau and no one would have ever hired that piece of shit. I’ll go back in while you run the prints. Have you had a chance to check on Cassie’s dog?”
“I sent one of the officers to make a call. We will have an answer by the time you’re done with Grossman.
Bradley and Marksman watched through the mirrored window as the officer pushed Grossman’s fingers covered with ink onto the tabs used for each finger. When the officer had collected all ten, Bradley told him, “I need the match results yesterday.”
“Yes sir.”
Sam went back into the room and resumed his seat across from Grossman.
“I’d like to wash this ink off my hands.”
“I’d like to be sitting on a warm beach reading a good book.”
Sam let the clock advance for several minutes before he asked another question.
“Bruce, it’s my understanding that you were recommended to work on this investigation. Who made that recommendation?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
“Did you rape and torture your partner in this investigation?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
Sam smiled at Grossman. This interview was going better than Sam could have hoped. Grossman was answering the questions the way the mob taught him. The beauty of it was that Grossman most likely was not aware that the police were recording their interview. The recorded interview could not be used to charge him since Sam wasn’t a member of any law enforcement agency; however, it would give the police indications of what to ask when an official agent questioned him.
“Did you shoot Agent Henson’s dog?”
“That fucking animal attacked me. I had to shoot to kill him in self-defense.”
“Did Agent Henson give the dog a command to attack you?”
“She did not.”
At least Grossman told Marksman the truth on this question. With her mouth duct taped shut and her hands in shackles, Cassie didn’t have an opportunity to give Brutus the signal to attack, which meant in Sam’s mind, Brutus felt his master’s life was in danger.
“If Agent Henson did not command her trained attack dog to charge you, is it possible he thought his master was in danger?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
A small smile appeared on Sam’s lips. “Did you rape Agent Henson?”
Grossman delivered the expected response, “I’m not answering that question.
”
Bradley opened the door and asked Sam to step out.
“We have the results of the fingerprint search. Follow me to the squad room. You need to see this to believe it.”
Chapter Seven
October 2001
Bradley told Sam, “We found a match for the prints we took from Grossman. They belong to him along with a rap sheet long enough to wallpaper the squad room. It’s quite clear that he’s a member of the mob. The FBI has a current investigation underway for this asshole’s boss.”
“If you’re next words are to tell me they want you to cut him loose for their investigation in the bigger fish, I’m going to have a real problem with it.”
“It’s quite the contrary. They want us to hold him in custody. The Bureau is sending someone over, so you have a little time before they get here if you want to go back in with him.”
“Do I have time to check on my girl?”
“Not really, but the Duty Officer said he took her a fresh cup of coffee and a couple of donuts. He said she was stretched out on a blanket reading a book with your dog lying beside her.”
“That’s definitely my girl.”
When Sam entered the room, he took his seat across from Grossman. Grossman’s very existence repulsed Sam.
Grossman spoke first, “Look man I need to take a piss.”
Sam wanted to tell this asshole to piss in his pants, but he held back. Sam wasn’t going to give this bastard’s defense attorney anything to work with. He waved to Bradley on the other side of the mirror to let Grossman use the facilities. Two officers entered the room, each grabbed one of Grossman’s arms and they walked him to the prisoner restroom.
When the officers returned Grossman to his chair, he looked at Sam with hatred in his eyes. “There’s nothing like having two goons watching you take a piss in the urinal. You should try it sometime, you might like it.”
“Why did you shackle Agent Henson to your basement wall?”
“What the fuck man. Don’t you know any other songs?”
“Why did you shackle Agent Henson to your basement wall?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
“Did you shoot and kill Agent Henson’s dog?”
“You’re the asshole from hell. I told you I did. Her fucking dog attacked me.”
Grossman shuffled in his chair.
“Did you have a laser setup to an alarm system that surrounded your house?”
“You know damn well that I did.”
“Why did you shackle Agent Henson to the wall in your basement?”
Sam didn’t know that three FBI agents had joined Bradley to watch Grossman’s interview.
“I am not answering that question. Fuck you.”
“Did you have a laser beam set up in the basement to activate a bomb?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
“Why did you shackle Agent Henson to the wall in your basement?”
Grossman glared at Sam and said nothing.
“Were there boxes of money stored in your basement?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
Sam smiled at Grossman as he asked, “Did you rape Agent Henson.”
“I’m not answering that question.”
One of the FBI agents asked Bradley, “Where the hell did you find this guy? Who is he?”
“Sam’s a private investigator out of Baltimore.”
“Is that right?”
Sam repeated his question with a slight change, “Why did you rape Agent Henson?”
“She told me I was the best fuck she’d ever had.”
“Why did you have a laser setup to activate a bomb?”
“Get the fuck out of here and send in a real cop.”
“Are you an agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation?”
Grossman spit a wad of mucus that landed on Sam’s shirt. While the mucus repulsed him, Sam remained seated in his chair.
“Are you an agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation?”
Grossman looked to the mirror and shouted, “Get this asshole out of here and bring in a real cop.”
Sam stood from his chair, smiled at Grossman and left the room. Bradley handed him a napkin. “Thanks but I’m gonna throw my shirt away in the men’s room. That freak of nature might have cooties. I’ll be right back.”
Bradley immediately offered him something to wear. “There’s a large sweat shirt in my locker. The locker number is 24.”
“Thanks, I’ll grab it.”
When Sam returned to the group standing in front of the window, Bradley introduced him to the FBI agents. “Sam, I’d like you to introduce you to Agent Farlow, Agent Burns, and Agent Glover from the Atlantic City Office. Gentlemen, let me introduce you to Private Investigator Sam Marksman, from Fells Point, Maryland.”
Farlow asked, “Where’d you learn that interview technique?”
“The Bureau, I was with the Baltimore office for a couple of years.”
Glover laughed, “I take it we can’t entice you to come back.”
“No, you can’t. I’ve grown quite accustomed to picking and choosing my cases. I think I pushed him just hard enough, so you might get something from him. Gentlemen, it was a pleasure meeting you, I’m quite sure our paths will cross again before this case is finished. I’m gonna take my leave since I have my fiancée to pick up, and I promised Cassie I’d stop in the hospital and see how she’s doing.”
Farlow handed Sam his business card. “We haven’t been to the US Attorney’s office yet, but can I tell them you’ll be available to testify in court, if we need you?”
“You most certainly may and you can put that in the bank. He’s all yours. I’d be very interested in what you get out of him.”
Bradley walked with him as far as the intake area and before Sam left the building, he asked Bradley about Cassie’s dog. “Any word on her pooch yet?”
“Yep, he was in the forensic lab having the bullet extracted to match the bullet to the gun that Grossman used to shoot him. The fool had the gun on him when the police took him into custody. I took the liberty of asking the lab tech to cremate him when they’re done collecting evidence.”
“Thank you, I’ll let Cassie know. When and where can I pick him up?”
“He’s going to be delivered to my office this afternoon.”
“That’s fast.”
Bradley chuckled, “The lab has a crematorium on site.”
“What do I owe you?”
“Not a dime. It’s a police lab, so I got it done for free since we needed the pooch for evidence.”
“Are you serious? Then by all means, I’ll buy you a drink, as soon as you’re free.”
“I just might take you up on that offer. I’ll lay money down, that you have a lot of tales that I’d like to hear.” When he met Marksman at Grossman’s house, he’d made a very wrong assumption that the Investigator was the typical, ‘get photos of my cheating husband’, PI. As Marshal watched the PI walk out the door, he couldn’t have more respect for him.
Sam walked to the park across the road to collect his girl, and his mutt. Leona had fallen asleep reading his book. Bailey came to greet his master. “Hey buddy, did you take good care of Leona?” Bailey wagged his tail. Bailey followed Sam to the blanket where Leona was sleeping. As Sam watched her sleep, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. He sat on the blanket next to her and stroked her long brown hair.
“Oh my, I must have fallen asleep.”
“The Duty Officer said he could hear you snoring from his desk.”
“Sam Marksman, don’t you dare be telling me such bullshit. Are you done with your interview?”
“Yes ma’am, I am. I want to stop at the hospital on the way back to the hotel.”
Still half asleep, she sat up, stretched her arms, and told Sam, “Of course, how did it go in there?”
“Extremely well and I want to tell you about it, but can I hold off until we get to the hospita
l. That way I can tell you and Cassie at the same time. So, tell me about your afternoon.”
“Well, I drove back to that convenience store, where I used the restroom; I bought a cup of coffee and a donut. I grabbed your book along with Bailey’s car blanket. Then I stretched out on the blanket to read for a while. Sam, have you eaten anything today?”
“Not yet, but I’m fine. We’ll take Englar up on his offer for dinner. Did you two go for a walk?”
“As a matter of fact, we did. We took four long walks. That’s why you found me sleeping. Those walks tuckered me out.”
Leona picked the blanket up from the ground, shook it out, grabbed Sam’s book, and put Bailey’s leash on. She looked around and gathered up the empty coffee containers. As she tried to balance everything in her arms, she saw Sam grinning at her, “Have you collected all your parts.”
She laughed, “I think so.”
When Sam pulled the car onto the hospital’s parking lot, he told Leona to sit tight. “I’m gonna see if we can bring Bailey in.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean after all, she just lost her dog.”
“You might have a point. I’ll ask Cassie first. If she says it’s okay with her, I’ll ask the nurse.”
Sam found Cassie sitting in the chair. When she saw Sam, come into the room she stood. “Get over here and give me a hug.” After Sam wrapped his arms around her body to hug her he helped sit in the chair. Smiling, she asked, “Where’s Leona?”
“She’s waiting in the car. She suggested that I ask you if we can bring Bailey in, that is, if the nurse allows us.”
“I would love to meet your dog. He’s a Goldie, right?”
“He sure is.”
“Go get them and bring them in, we’ll wait for the nurse to tell you to take him out. What’s that expression something about asking for forgiveness rather than permission?”
“I don’t remember how that expression goes, but it doesn’t matter. If you’re okay with bringing Bailey in, I’ll bring him in. Let me go get them.”