“Five years, but who’s counting.” He missed a bank shot. “Damn. Well, Ginger, it has something to do with my boss’ generosity.”
“I’m sure you’re worth every dime.”
“And then some. I do more publicity and charity events than I cover news. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind good causes, but cocktail parties for special interest groups hardly constitute that.”
“What kind of groups?”
“You know, garden clubs, trendy art exhibits, keeping Lindville clean or at least the significant parts. I would like to report on a few social issues, the city manager’s dispersion of funds, certain school administrators getting their houses painted by maintenance during regular working hours, some of the special privileges given to certain athletes, whose poor parents suddenly move to a newer neighborhood in a different school district with excellent mortgage rates and new jobs.”
Ginger laughed. “I never thought of you as a crusader, a radical, liberal democrat.”
“Well, I may not be all that, but I’m not a conservative yuppie, either.”
“Could have fooled me.” More laughter. Ginger made the nine and Davis reached for the rack.
“Don’t be fooled by the clothes and job.”
“Nor the car, the apartment, the…”
“All right, asshole, so I’ve been bought, but I still have a few dreams left. Allow me that.”
“Okay, I’ll allow you that, but nothing else.”
They both laughed, and Ginger went for more beer. He checked the customers. Dot seemed to be taking care of everything, despite her new attention toward Matt. Ginger decided to play the matchmaker and urge both of them in the same direction, little by little. They could both do a lot worse. Matt was a good guy, who wasn’t afraid to work and did not blow his entire paycheck on vices. He drank a bit, but only during his days off. He had been a respected driller for many years. He had no family and came only to the bar for a little companionship. He thought of Marjorie and wished he could feel that way about her and Joe Cooper. But that potential relationship bothered him more and more. He pushed it aside, handed Davis a beer, set his on a small table, and prepared to break the rack. He hit the cue ball much harder than normal and several balls were made, including the nine ball, but unfortunately the cue ball dropped as well.
“Hell of a way to win, but I’ll take it.” Davis shook his head. “Rack ’em up!”
Ginger obliged. “So tell me, where would you like to go? By the way, where are you from?”
Davis laughed. “Hang on to your balls: Snyder.”
“That’s a little farming town not far from the lake.”
“Believe me, I know where it is.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Angelo State. MA at UT.”
“And all this time I thought you were an Ivy Leaguer. You don’t sound like a West Texan.”
“I’ve worked hard for that distinction.”
“Tell me more. Where to?”
“I don’t know. Someplace different, maybe Shreveport or the East Coast.”
“Miami?”
“Maybe not Miami. Something a bit smaller. He paused, then said with emphasis, “Any place I can report news instead of keeping up with the oil and gas industry and the socialites of Lindville.”
“I see your point. But you have to admit, it hasn’t been boring lately.”
“It certainly hasn’t. Think Rick will be back by?”
“Good chance. Especially if he found out anything.”
CHAPTER 18
“Mrs. Brown?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Hopkins and this is Detective Martin. May we come in, just for a moment? We need to ask you a few questions.”
“The police have already been here,” she said.
“Yes, we know, but there has been another murder and your husband’s fingerprints are on the weapon.”
“My husband is dead. He was murdered. Why aren’t you arresting his killer?” She held the door firmly.
“Mrs. Brown, your husband was killed in self-defense. He was trying to rob a liquor store and killed the clerk. There was an eyewitness.”
“David wouldn’t kill anybody. He’s not a murderer. He’s got a job. He just went to get some wine for Christmas. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Mrs. Brown, is there anyone else living in your house besides you and your kids?”
“Just my family.”
“Who else is in your family?”
“My brother-in-law. You want to kill him now?” Tears were welling up, begging for release.
“May we speak to him?”
“He’s not here.”
“May we come in?”
She suddenly turned and yelled toward the back room. “Run, Junior. They’re after you now.” She tried to slam the door, but Hopkins blocked it.
“Dave, around back,” he ordered.
The young detective didn’t hesitate and caught the man coming out the back door. He fired a warning shot and the man froze instantly.
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot. I didn’t kill anybody.”
“Then why are you running?”
“I’m scared.”
“Well, you have good reason to be now. Face down on the ground, hands behind your head. Now!” Detective Martin stressed the “now” and was obeyed instantly.
Once assured his detective was in charge, Hopkins turned his attention back to Mrs. Brown, who was trying to rush out the front door. She was a large, fortyish woman who wasn’t going to cooperate. She was throwing her arms in hysteria, screaming for help, and slapping Hopkins upside the head repeatedly. Finally, he wrestled her to the ground and cuffed her. She was like a fish out of water, flopping around helplessly. Hopkins reached for a portable phone that had been knocked from the coffee table. He called for uniforms and a detective. He forced the heavy woman to her feet and pushed her out the front door. He made her lie down in the front yard. Dave Martin joined him and forced his captive to the ground.
“Do the legal bit, Dave.”
Their rights were read to them.
“Where are your children, Mrs. Brown?”
“They’re at my sister’s. You leave them alone!”
“Are they staying the night?”
“Yes. Don’t you take them. You have no right.”
“Then settle down and cooperate.”
“What did I do? Why are you arresting me?”
“You shouted for someone to run. When he did run, you gave the impression you were interfering with the apprehension of a fugitive.”
“Junior didn’t do anything, either.”
“Then why was he running out the back door?”
“’Cause you’re cops and we’re afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Taking us to jail or taking my babies.”
“Ma’am, we were here just to ask questions. You brought all this on yourselves.”
She lay still and sobbed hysterically. The man just lay still and said nothing. He was very scared and didn’t want to go back to prison.
“Help is on the way. We need to secure everything, but not go back inside until we get a warrant. Let’s be real careful with this. Too much we don’t know yet.”
“This should fill in a lot of holes.”
“I hope so. You watch them. I’ll call in and get the warrant started. I want the house dusted, and check the gun again. Maybe we can find this guy’s prints. That would tie everything up real nice. Get these guys public defenders if they want them. We’re going to have a few questions to ask.”
More officers arrived while Hopkins was on the phone. Dave instructed two uniformed policemen to escort the prisoners to jail, book them, and call for counsel if they wished. He asked Detective Zane, not familiar with the case, if he would check the progress of the Clyde Street crime scene. The older officer agreed without a problem. Unlike a few other detectives, he enjoyed Dave’s eagerness, his vitality. He reme
mbered his own excitement at making detective. Clearly, the young detective had his hands full. The other uniformed officer enclosed the area and controlled the small amount of vehicle traffic and the curious neighbors.
Detective Hopkins walked outside and surveyed the scene. He felt like he was on the right track, and perhaps all three crimes could be put to bed. At least he hoped so. After a few minutes of observing, he motioned for his detectives to join him. They quickly assembled.
“Well, maybe this will connect the past week and we can put it all in the hands of the DA.” He looked at Dave and Detective Zane. “Where’s Bob?” he asked, referring to Bob Johnson, another senior detective who wasn’t as easygoing as Thomas Zane, but didn’t make many waves, either. In fact, most of the detectives got along well. They had acknowledged Rick as their leader long ago. He had gone to bat for them for money and benefits and when he received his promotion, they were supportive. Some were in doubt of his current support of the newest, and very young, detective, but only grumbling was heard, no direct opposition. They all held that much respect for Hopkins.
Sergeant Hopkins gave a summarization of the facts that he knew. Dave added a few, but the other two detectives were only aware of the Christmas Eve crimes, not the previous night, nor the current arrests. Detective Abrams and Bolin were at the Clyde Street scene.
Hopkins called for an early meeting the following day, hopefully to connect the various crimes.
Surely, there was a thread that weaved the three murder scenes together, something that could give some meaning to the death of five people. Thoughts of Joe Cooper entered his consciousness.
Once the warrant arrived, Dave and Hopkins searched the small house, but found no more weapons, no drugs, nothing that made the house any different from the neighboring structures. He would secure it and have a patrol car make regular drive-bys.
“Let’s go by Ginger’s and see if my truck is there.”
“I could use a beer.”
“Rookie!”
CHAPTER 19
The crowd at Ginger’s had dwindled to three before Hopkins and his shadow showed. Ginger was behind the bar, leaning across talking to Matt and Dot, who were hand-in-hand.
“So, Batman and Robin have returned. Is Gotham City safe from the Joker?”
“Yeah, but not from pompous bartenders.”
Ginger smiled and retrieved two brews. “What’s the latest?”
“Well, Brown’s brother was at the Brown’s casa and made a break for it. We arrested him and Brown’s wife. Looks as if he was his brother’s accomplice.”
“So, he broke into Joe’s old house, looking for our hero, and snuffed out the old couple?”
“It’s a good chance, but there are still some loose ends,” Hopkins shook his head.
“Such as?”
“How did he know Joe’s name, much less his old house?”
“The phone book theory?”
“Perhaps. But was he even at the other scenes?”
“He had to have been there. That’s the only possible answer. He saw Joe, somehow found out his name, and afraid he could be identified, tried to silence Joe,” Dave said, as if there was no other option. He looked for agreement but found only puzzled faces. “What?”
“You’re probably right, Dave. I certainly hope so.”
“Be nice if the brother confessed,” added Ginger.
“What are you guys talking about?” asked the confused Dot. Matt was in agreement with her.
“We’ll explain later.”
“Thanks a lot. Come on, Matt, I’ll buy you a burger.”
“Bring me one,” Ginger said.
Hopkins looked at Ginger. “If we don’t get a confession, Marjorie will have her work cut out for her.”
“What about his running?”
“It’ll help, but there still isn’t any concrete evidence. He could just say he was afraid, panicked and ran.”
“Trying to play up the minority bit?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“I still think we have a strong case, even if he keeps quiet. Nevertheless, he will talk. If not, the woman will. She’s too afraid of going to jail and losing her kids,” Dave said.
Hopkins was impressed with his understudy’s mental quickness, his determination.
“I want you to interrogate both of them first thing in the morning, before we all meet. Maybe a night behind bars will loosen some tongues. Follow your line of thinking—maybe the kids-losing-their-mother approach.”
Dave felt an inner smile but tried to keep a stern business attitude. “Let’s go home and sleep on it. Are you closing, Ginger?”
“As soon as I get my burger.”
CHAPTER 20
Pam prepared her spaghetti sauce, one that was made mostly with the help of Ragu, but she did add a few ingredients and a pinch of salt. It was not an old family recipe, but it served its purpose. She looked at Joe, asleep on the couch. She had feared he would not show. He seemed very busy with lawyers and police officers. He had tried to explain the entire situation, but she was still somewhat confused. She was not too concerned about the facts, as long as Joe spent time with her. She wanted companionship, someone to hold at night, a person to make her feel less alone, perhaps to love her and her eight-year-old daughter, who was living with Pam’s mother.
Joe lay asleep, unconscious from drinking and his new lifestyle, rather than true sleep. There were no dreams, only total unconsciousness. When he woke, he would eat spaghetti and sleep even more. Sometime before morning, he would roll over and have sex with Pam. She would mistake it as lovemaking. He would be physically aggressive. She would mistake it as passion and desire for her, instead of his desire to dominate and suppress her, to simply have carnal knowledge of her. Afterward, she would curl next to him, her head on his chest, content and secure. He only felt the conquest of his prey, a need to sleep and dream of more hunts.
CHAPTER 21
Dave was interrogating the prisoners before they had a chance to eat breakfast. Junior Brown initially waived the right for a lawyer, saying he had nothing to hide. He was frightened because of what had happened to his brother and because he was an ex-con. He ran because he didn’t want to go back to prison. He had nothing to do with what his brother had done, nor had he any knowledge of his brother’s intentions. He did not know who Joe Cooper was, nor had he been to the house at 408 S. Clyde. In addition, he had never seen the gun.
Dave informed him that, unless he had more information, he should find a good lawyer. He then left Brown alone to think about the situation.
The newly widowed Elsa Brown was too emotional to say much of anything. Any questions concerning her children, such as who would take care of them if she went to prison, were met with hysteria. Dave realized that she was just a frightened middle-aged woman whose knowledge of any crime was at a minimum. He told her honestly to get a lawyer. He left her sobbing for her dead husband, the possible loss of her children, and dread of prison life.
* * *
Joined by their vacationing captain, the detectives met in the conference room over coffee and donuts.
Hopkins recapped the past days’ events, giving names and circumstances as far as he knew them. He stressed the need to form an overall plan, breaking down each event separately to see if the pieces fit. Dave gave a report of his interrogation and his belief that they had a strong case connecting Junior Brown with the alleged crimes of his dead brother. Even though she was needed for further questioning, he felt that Elsa Brown had no real knowledge of the crimes. He had also discovered Junior Brown occasionally hired out as a roofer. Perhaps he had met or at least knew who Joe Cooper was. They would need Cooper to come down for identification.
After an hour of hashing out facts and opinions, they adjourned, leaving Captain Williams and Hopkins to prepare for the press conference. The captain was quite apprehensive about the situation but seemed pleased with Hopkins’ overall handling of the matter and sugges
ted he field questions from the media. Hopkins knew the move was correct, but also knew it cushioned the captain. It offered himself as a possible whipping boy. Politically, the move was right. Only time would tell the effects of the investigation on Hopkins’ life: promotion or a downhill slide of a promising career. He desperately needed to talk with Marjorie. Hopefully, she felt the same as Dave, that they had a good case.
* * *
“So do we have a case?”
“We have a case, but how good, I’m not sure.”
“Why?”
“You know why, Rick,” Marjorie said. “There’s no physical proof that Junior Brown was at the Clyde Street crime scene.”
“What about the gun?”
“His fingerprints are not on the gun.”
“But his brothers are and he lived with his brother.”
“That’s true, and that’s why we have a case. That and the fact that he ran from you. However, we still need a motive. If we could tie him in with the crimes his brother committed, show he had knowledge of Joe, anything to give him motive, then we could tie everything together.”
“If Joe could think back, maybe he saw someone in the car and it simply didn’t register. Let’s talk with him. Maybe Joe has seen him on a construction site. Once things die down a bit, the facts might become clearer, but if we let too much time lapse, the entire city will be against us. We have to move fast, make Joe a hero who’s on our side publicly and point a finger at the Brown boys. If we make this arrest stick, then the public will think we have our boy and stay off our backs, with a little assistance from Davis and the media boys.”
“Wish it were that simple, but this is already going national, and with the release of Joe’s name, every newshound and tabloid will be surfacing,” Marjorie said.
“We need to locate Joe and prime him.”
“And prime him?”
Hopkins scowled. “That’s our job.”
“And what about Joe?”
“He can sell the movie rights and make a fortune.”
“Right! It’s not that big of a case. He will just be pestered until he cannot show his face publicly or at work. He’ll probably lose money just trying to help us.”
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