“I’d recognize that Irish brogue anywhere.”
“And I was right about it being Gabi Sawyer’s father, right?”
“You bet you were.”
When the recording stopped, Harwell made a mad dash for the door. “Max, I’m going to call the detectives working this case. Let’s keep this between us, okay? Do you understand?”
“I do, Dad.”
“What about Ritchie? Does he know?”
“He knows,” the boy said in a rush of words, “but he never listened to it. I told him what was on the cassette.”
“Oh crap.” Harwell blew out a hefty breath of air. “If anyone finds out you recorded this confession, we’re in a lot of trouble. You because you invaded someone’s privacy, and me because it will look like I told you to record it.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll think of something to tell Ritchie.”
“All right, you sit here and don’t you move a muscle,” he said to him over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a little while.” He tossed his cell phone to Max. “Call your mother and let her know where you are before she has a coronary.”
Max nodded. “Okay, Dad.” He obediently dialed his mother’s cell phone number, knowing she really didn’t care that he was gone. She’d probably left the house right after he did.
23
“Where are you taking me?” Jessie demanded.
“To my place for the night,” Zach said, never looking in her direction.
“Thank you.”
He turned his head in her direction. “Thank you?”
“Yes, thank you for caring about what happens to me,” and this time, she was the one reaching for his hand.
He willingly gave it to her and squeezed hers tightly, a broad smile on his face. “Finally.”
She smiled back. “I know. I’ve been brushing you off far too long, but I’d be a fool to deny my feelings any more. One of us will probably be transferred to another precinct, but I’ve got to stop pretending that you don’t matter. My heart is having a tug of war with my head, and my heart is winning.”
“Well, it sure as hell took you long enough.”
“I know. Please understand, this isn’t a forever commitment, but it’s a start. You have to know I’m afraid of getting my heart broken, so if I’m a little distant at first, you’ll understand why. Okay?”
“I understand, and I promise you, I won’t play with your heart. Maybe your body, but not your heart.” The pounding in his chest echoed in his ears over the excitement of finally hearing the words he’d waited for her to say.
“You know I’m crazy about you, don’t you?” he said with a glint in his eye.
“I think I do know that, but I need to be sure it’s not sympathy for my situation or . . .”
“Absolutely not,” he barked. “I was crazy about you long before I had any knowledge of the notes. I won’t lie and tell you I’m not concerned, because I am, but we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
Zach pulled up in front of his place and became distracted by the ringing of his cell phone. He checked the caller ID. “Crap,” he rolled his eyes, “it’s Harwell. What do you think? Should we blow him off?”
“Are you kidding? If he’s calling at night, you know it’s important.”
“Damn.” He made a face, clicked the speaker on so they could both listen. “Gerard here.”
“We’ve got him Detective?” Harwell announced.
“Who?”
“Sawyer.”
“For the missing wife and Lenny’s death?” Zach asked, while watching Jessie’s face light up.
“Yes, sir. For the two murders.”
“And how do you know this?”
“The desk sergeant handed me a manila envelope when I returned to the precinct and what do you think I found inside?” Harwell didn’t wait for a response. “A cassette with Sawyer’s confession, but I’ll fill in the rest when you get here.”
“Sounds like we hit the jackpot, Lieutenant.” He grinned. “We’re on our way.”
24
“Ryan,” Harwell said from the hallway, “Max is ready.”
Max was standing next to his father by the opened door. He smiled when Ryan looked his way.
“Are you ready champ?” Ryan asked.
Max nodded, unsure of his current status with his father. He bent over to pick up his backpack and carried it out of the office. Queasiness waved through his stomach. On one hand, he could see the excitement on his father’s face when he heard the recording, but he worried about his punishment and how soon it was going to happen. Either way, though, he knew he’d done the right thing and he wasn’t going to worry about it.
Max followed Ryan out into the hallway where his father stood talking to Detectives Kensington and Gerard.
“Thanks for stopping by, Maxie, and don’t forget what I told you.”
“I won’t, Dad.”
The lieutenant winked at his detectives, a slight grin on his face. “The kid took the train all the way over here without his mother’s approval. Not that I mind the visit, but it’s pretty late for him to be doing such a gutsy thing at this hour.” He watched Max push his arms through the straps of his backpack. “Before you leave, Max, I’d like you to meet Detectives Kensington and Gerard.”
“Hi, Max,” Detective Kensington said, extending her hand. “I’m very happy to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from your dad.”
“Me too, buddy.” Zach extended his hand. Max nodded.
“Okay, son.” Harwell patted Max on the back. “Thanks for seeing him home, Ryan.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
The detectives hurried into the lieutenant’s office.
“What’s on the recording?”
“The answer to our prayers, Gerard . . . the answer. Wait until you hear what I’ve got.” Harwell chuckled, as he pushed down the button on the recorder. “Of course, we’re going to have one hell of a time entering this into evidence, but that’s the DA’s problem.”
Jessie sat mesmerized listening to Patrick Sawyer’s confession to the killing of his wife. When the recording finished, her mouth was gaped. “Wow,” she blurted out. “We got the bastard. But now we have to prove his guilt without a body.” She shrugged. “This should be interesting. So it sounds like our Jane Doe was Amanda Sawyer. I wonder if that’s what she was trying to tell me when I asked her name?”
“It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? I think what we have to find out next is what he did with her. Did he take her from the hospital and finish her off? Do we need to open our search up for a body? Will he even admit to going back to get her?” Zach gave a sympathetic shake of his head.
“Most likely,” Harwell said, “he won’t admit to anything. We’ll let the legal department figure this out. But the good news is we have enough for a warrant.” Harwell stood. “Go get him.”
“Where did you get this cassette, Lieutenant?” Jessie asked.
“I don’t know where it came from,” Harwell shrugged. “All I know is it came in an envelope that was left at the front desk.”
Distracted by the ringing of her phone, Jessie quickly moved to the side and noticed Jane Clayton’s phone number flash on the screen. She plugged her ear with her finger to block out the conversation between Harwell and Zach regarding a trip to the ADA’s office. When the call concluded, she turned to the men. “And the good news just keeps on comin’ in, gentlemen.”
“Do tell,” Zach said.
“That was Jane Clayton letting us know Gabi Sawyer called Marti again, and this time, Gabi’s airing her father’s dirty linens—literally. Maria Alexander is her father’s lover.”
District Attorney Samantha Richards sat behind a large mahogany desk talking on the telephone. She was the consummate professional who walked the talk, dressed for success, and when she strolled down the hallway, everyone knew she was destined for greatness. Today, she wore a black tailored suit with a simple white blouse. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled i
nto a tight bun, and the black horn-rimmed glasses she wore made her look more like a librarian than an attorney.
“Detectives,” she smiled, “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“We need an arrest warrant for Patrick Sawyer.”
“Okay. Talk to me.”
“Double Homicide, Staging a Burglary, Money Laundering, . . . shall I go on?” Zach said, his hands resting on his hips.
“Alright. Show me your evidence.”
Detective Kensington opened her file and slid the photographs from the crime scene in Central Park, the Sawyer residence, photos of Lenny and Tony, the CIs, and Vito, the manager of the chop shop. Samantha examined the photos. “You said a double homicide. Do you have another photo of the second homicide? There’s only one body in this photo? Where is the other victim?”
“She was taken to the hospital and then went missing.”
“So she’s alive?”
“She was at the time we came to the crime scene, but then she went missing from the hospital and we haven’t been able to find her.”
“Where did she go?”
Jessie shrugged. “We believe Mr. Sawyer found out she was still alive and went to the hospital to finish the job.”
“That’s speculative, Detective. Do you have proof the husband actually removed her from the hospital? Surveillance tapes?” Samantha looked from one to the other waiting for a response.
“There were no surveillance tapes from the hospital. They were installing a new system that day.”
The attorney viewed the photos more closely. “How do you know this break-in was staged?”
“Because it was too perfect. Other than the Sawyer family’s prints, there were no others, no forced entry into the house. We found some blood on the bedroom carpet and near the fireplace in the living room which was definitely Mrs. Sawyer’s.” Jessie offered.
“But that doesn’t prove Sawyer killed anyone. She could have cut herself shaving her legs to account for the blood in the bedroom . . . but I am concerned about the victim’s blood being in the living room.”
“We’ve had Sawyer on the radar for a long time when we suspected he was the owner of a chop shop on 117th Street, which is where the money laundering comes in. We had two confidential informants in the shop, but one is dead, killed by Sawyer.” Samantha viewed the crime scene photo again. “Where’s your second CI?”
“Tony was questioned, but left for parts unknown. He was scared to death—fearful of what Sawyer would do to him if he found out he came to the precinct.”
“That doesn’t help me if I don’t have his testimony to prove it. What else do you have for me?”
“We do have Vito Lorenzo, the manager of the chop shop, who will testify if we give him a deal and Witness Protection,” Zach said. Jessie smiled knowing they’d done a good job. “We’ve caught Sawyer in several lies in terms of timeframes, whereabouts, you name it. This guy’s scum.” Jessie stopped and stared at the DA as she jotted down something on paper. “And we also have Vito confirming Sawyer owns the shop under the assumed name of Sonny Alexander. Vito also revealed that on the night Lenny’s dead body showed up fifty feet from the car driven by Amanda Sawyer, Mr. Sawyer had called him in the middle of the night and told him to get over to the chop shop right away with a crew, he needed a grill replacement on his SUV.”
“That seems a little odd,” Samantha frowned. “He couldn’t wait until morning to have his grill replaced?”
“Precisely,” Zach said, “that’s why we’re more than convinced we have enough evidence to get him convicted.”
“We met with Vito a few nights ago and he told us when Lenny inquired about how the accident happened, Sawyer told him he’d hit a deer. When Lenny heard that, he teased Sawyer about hitting a ‘blue’ deer, which, by the way, turns out to be the same color of the Volvo Mrs. Sawyer was driving.”
“Vito said when Sawyer’s car couldn’t be fixed, Sawyer ordered Lenny to drive him to the dealership, but must have changed his mind at the last minute and went to Central Park instead . . . maybe his sick mind wanted to see his dead wife again.”
Samantha shook her head, “But why would he have killed this Lenny?”
“According to Vito, Sawyer didn’t like the idea that Lenny was asking him so many questions. When Sawyer ultimately told Vito he wanted Lenny to drive him, Vito knew right away what Sawyer was going to do to Lenny. As a matter of fact, he even begged Sawyer not to. Sawyer told him he just wanted to get to know Lenny better, and then of course, Lenny ended up shot in the back of the head.”
“And,” Jessie added, “We have a taped confession of Sawyer telling a priest he committed the crimes.”
“Now, Detectives, I don’t have to tell you any decent attorney will fight to keep that out. I wouldn’t count on getting that into evidence.”
“We know,” Zach acknowledged. “At least we know for sure he’s guilty and all our instincts about him were on the mark.”
“Yes, but you knowing he’s guilty and me proving it in court are two very different things. Sounds like you have a personal vendetta against Sawyer, Detective Gerard. Did you record this confession?”
“Absolutely not,” Zach responded with force. “We have no idea how, or who recorded this session. Someone dropped it off at the precinct in a manila folder.”
“I’m not sure I believe you, Detective. And I don’t think I have to tell you what happens if you commit perjury.”
“No ma’am. I’m well aware of the law.”
Okay, give me a minute.” Samantha pushed back from her desk and walked down the hall.
“Phew,” Jessie said. “I thought we were going to be brought up on charges there for a minute.”
“She’s just doing her job.” Zach shook his head.
Let’s face it, everyone knows Harwell’s feelings about Sawyer.” Zach stopped talking when Samantha returned holding the warrant in her hand.
“Okay, Detectives. Pick him up, ” she said, handing the warrant to Jessie.
25
Gabi Sawyer answered the door with a bleak smile.
“Hi, Gabi,” Detective Kensington said, the tightness constricted in her chest at the sight of this young child’s expression.
“Did you find my mommy yet?”
“We’re working very hard to find her, sweetheart,” she answered. Gabi lowered her head. Anger made Jessie’s stomach feel sick, and she quickly turned around to take in a deep breath of fresh air. Her hand went to her midriff and she inhaled deeply.
“Is your dad here?” Detective Gerard took the lead.
Gabi backed away from the open door and called out to her father, her voice barely audible. “Dad.”
Sawyer rushed down the stairs, shot a stern look at his daughter, and chastised her. “Did you check to see who was outside before you opened the door, young lady?”
Gabi remained silent.
“What’s up, Detectives?” he asked in an upbeat tone. “Do you have news of my wife?”
“Sir, would you ask your daughter to step out of the room?”
“Gabi, go into the kitchen. The detectives have something they want to discuss with me.” The child left the room and walked into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” Sawyer asked.
“Patrick Sawyer,” Detective Kensington said. “You are under arrest for the murder of your wife, Amanda Sawyer, the murder of Lenny Scerbo, using a chop shop for money laundering, and staging a break-in into your own home.”
“What?” he shouted, and bolted for the door, ready to run outside. The two officers standing behind the detectives lurched forward, lowered him to the floor and held him down until the cuffs were tightly snapped around his wrists. “Are you out of your minds? You prove it.”
Gabi must have been within earshot because she charged into the living room with Maria in tow and released a blood-curdling scream. “What did you do, Daddy? I knew you were going to hurt Mommy.”
Maria gasped, her hand clu
tched to her chest, as she stood frozen in space, unable to move.
“Get Gabi out of here,” Sawyer shouted.
“You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney, you—” Detective Kensington’s voice faded into the background when Maria gasped again, and wrapped her arms around Gabi. Gabi wrangled free.
“Keep your hands off me,” Gabi shouted at her, and directed her venom toward her father. “This is all your fault, Daddy. I hate you.”
“Gabi, you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Maria, please take care of Gabi until I return.”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Sawyer. You won’t be coming back.” Jessie said. “And you don’t need to worry about Gabi. We have Child Services here to escort your daughter to her grandparents’ home.”
“You’re going to pay for this, you bastards,” Sawyer shouted.
“Thank you, Mr. Sawyer,” Jessie quipped. “Now, we have two more charges to add to your growing list of offenses. Assault and Battery, and threatening an officer.”
“Keep it up, you two bit whore,” he shouted at Detective Kensington. “I know you’re screwing Harwell.”
Everyone turned to look at Detective Kensington. A blush of red crimson rushed up her cheeks. Sawyer continued to taunt her, apparently dissatisfied with her reaction.
“Did you hear what I said, bitch?”
“I most definitely did, Mr. Sawyer,” she answered sweetly, then fashioned a smirk on her face in return.
Sawyer’s anger escalated. “My attorney will have all your asses on the unemployment line.”
“How about that, Detective Kensington. We’re finally going to take a vacation.” Zach twisted Sawyer’s cuffs. Sawyer grimaced. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Sawyer,” Zach sneered.
“That’s police brutality.”
“Mr. Sawyer,” Jessie said sternly, “is this really how you’d like your daughter to remember you?” She nodded for the officers to take Sawyer out of the residence. He glanced over his shoulder to look directly at Detective Gerard. “Maria, call Alan Gerard, my attorney.”
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