“Don’t jump to conclusions, Louie. It’s worth a second look. Before we talk to her, I want to talk with Kraus and Brown on it.”
“Okay, I want…”
They were interrupted by Katrina, the squad’s secretary, when she buzzed Jake. “Jake, there’s a call for you on line three. It’s JC’s Pawn Shop on Lakeview Road. Do you want to take it?”
“Yes, I’ll take it.” He picked up the phone. He could hear Jessie Cerone, the owner of JC’s, yelling at someone in the background.
“How’s it going, Jessie?”
“It goes, you know,” Jessie said.
“Yeah, I know. What’s up?” Jake asked, before Jessie could go into one of his long spiels on the human race.
“You sent over a picture last week of an emerald ring. You said you were doing a follow up from last year, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, you’re not going to believe this, but a guy just came in trying to hock it. I got it on my cameras. You want me to try to email you a picture?”
“You have cameras now?”
“Yeah, I got hit too many times last year, so I have surveillance 24/7 now.”
“Good idea. Does this guy know you’re calling me?”
“No, one of my clerks is working with him. He called me up front to appraise the ring, so I went out; I recognized it immediately, walked back to my office, and called you. Don’t worry, I played it cool.”
“Can you stall him? We can be there in about fifteen minutes, if we don’t hit traffic.”
“I’ll try.”
“Don’t make it obvious, Jessie. If he wants to leave, let him. Did he give you a name?”
“He only gave a first one. It’s Joe. Real original, huh?” Jessie laughed.
“What’s up?” Louie asked.
“Get your jacket. We’re heading out to JC’s.”
“What’s up there?” Louie headed to his desk to get his jacket.
“Someone just came into JC’s trying to hock Shanna Wagner’s emerald ring.”
“Boy, sometimes it just clicks, you know?”
“Yup!” Jake felt the buzz. Maybe, just maybe, they’d give the Wagners closure.
*
Jake’s jaw dropped when he walked into JC’s. The guy called Joe—in fact it was his real name—Joe Wagner, Shanna’s father, stood at the counter. He’d aged considerably this last year since Shanna’s murder, Jake thought.
“Hi, Joe.”
“Sergeant.” Joe Wagner looked down, avoiding Jake’s eyes.
“It’s Lieutenant now,” Jake said. “You remember Detective Romanelli?”
“Yes. Hello, Detective.” Wagner looked at his own hands.
“Hi, Mr. Wagner.” Louie moved to Wagner’s left side; Jake walked to his right.
“Hey, Jessie,” Jake said, when the owner came out of the backroom.
“Hey, Jake.”
“Can we use your back room for a couple of minutes, Jessie?”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Mr. Wagner…Joe, can you come with us for a minute?” Jake asked politely.
“Why? I’ve done nothing wrong!” His voice almost squeaked.
“It’s either in the backroom here or down at the station, Joe. Where do you prefer?” Jake asked.
“I guess here.” Joe followed Jake down the hallway to the office. Louie boxed him in from behind.
They crammed into a small room designed to hold no more than two people at any given time. A desk, a small round table with chairs, and a bookcase loaded with books narrowed the space even more. Jake pulled a chair out for Joe. Stared at him. Jake saw a defeated man who’d lost everything, including his will to live. Misery danced across his face; hands in constant motion gave Jake insight into the man before him. Nerves, he thought.
“Why are you so nervous, Joe?”
“I don’t know what you want, Lieutenant.”
“Yes you do, Joe.” Jake, looked directly into his eyes.
“No. Really?”
“Where’d you get Shanna’s ring?” Jake asked.
“We found it in her room. We started to clean it out, hoping it would help my wife move on. I’m glad I discovered it and not Anna. It would’ve killed her. I hid it from her, thinking I could get rid of it before she found out,” Joe finished.
“Joe, it’s a family heirloom. The worth of Shanna’s ring alone, I’d think you’d want to keep it or sell it at a jeweler’s.” Jake kept using Shanna’s name to work Joe, pull on his guilt.
“Her grandmother gave it to her. I don’t think Anna could bear to have it around. It would cause her such pain.” Tears ran down Joe’s face. Jake waited while Joe pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his nose with it.
“Why, Joe?” Jake pushed.
“Because Shanna always wore it,” he simply said.
“Joe, I’m going to ask you again. Where’d you get Shanna’s ring?”
Joe didn’t reply; he broke down, crying. Jake didn’t say a word, struggling with his part in causing Joe’s pain.
Jake sent Louie out to ask Jessie if he had any whiskey in the shop. Louie came back with his bottle of Jack Daniels and poured Joe a drink.
“Here, take this Joe,” Louie said.
“Thanks.” Joe drank it fast, choking when the liquor hit the back of his throat.
“You need to talk to us, Joe. You’re not protecting her this way,” Jake said.
“You don’t understand.”
“I do, Joe. I know this is hard, but it has to be done.”
“No, you really don’t understand. Shanna’s death—it not only killed Shanna, it killed our family. My wife’s lost over twenty pounds this year. She doesn’t participate in our lives. She’s constantly haunting Chloe to see where she is. I found a counselor for us, but she refuses to go. I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. I know this is going to sound horrible. I…we need to move forward. Don’t you understand?” he pleaded with Jake.
“I do understand, Joe. When my sister was killed, my mother never got over it. My father, he tried to help her, but he couldn’t. It gradually ate away at him. The stress killed him. My mother’s in a home right now. She’s not crazy. She just doesn’t care, or she can’t move forward. I just don’t know anymore. You can’t make this right by trying to protect Chloe. Do you understand?” Jake stared into Joe’s eyes.
“Chloe’s all I have left.”
“Joe, you knew, or you suspected, Chloe might be involved in Shanna’s death. You didn’t want to face it. Finding the ring finally made you realize Chloe might’ve been a participant in Shanna’s death. You’re trying to protect her. It’s the reason you’re here today, trying to get rid of it. You know if Anna saw the ring, and found out where you got it, she’d make the connection to Chloe also.” Jake kept using Anna and Shanna’s names. Press harder, he thought.
“Are you going to leave us with nothing? I lost one daughter forever, now you want to take away my other daughter. I don’t understand how do you do what you do, Lieutenant?” Joe asked.
“Joe, don’t you believe Shanna deserves justice? Don’t you deserve closure? Someone ended her life, just when she should’ve been starting to make her own way, excited about her future. She was smart, kind, beautiful and focused on what she wanted in life. The killer needs to pay for the crime that was committed against her. Every crime’s cruel, but this one demonstrates an extreme brutality in the killer’s method. They not only killed her; they raped her, they beat her, then they dumped her naked in a field for the animals. They left her with nothing.” Jake watched his words land like fists in Joe’s face.
“Don’t you think I don’t know that? How can I come to terms with it? I can’t believe we created the monster who did this to her. I won’t accept that.” Louie poured Joe another drink.
“You didn’t create the monster, Joe. She created herself, with petty jealousy. Envy’s a terrible thing,” Jake said. “We need you to come with us to the station t
o make a statement. We’ve confiscated the ring as evidence. Here’s your receipt for it. We’re not arresting Chloe based on you hocking the ring. We’ve been reviewing the case, going over statements. Joe…the evidence is pointing to her. The ring only confirms it.”
“It’s not the only evidence?”
“No.”
“Do I leave my car here?” Joe asked, looking around the office for the first time.
“Why don’t you? When we’re finished, we’ll give you a ride back.”
“Should I call my wife?”
“No. Do you know where Chloe is today?” Jake asked.
“She should be at work. She knows I have the ring.”
“How does she know, Joe?” Louie asked.
“I confronted her with it. Only she could have brought it into the house. She denied it, but I saw it in her eyes.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “How could she have killed her own sister? A sister who loved her?”
“I don’t know, Joe,” Louie said.
Chapter Sixteen
Burke and Kraus continued doing follow-up interviews on the murder of Xavier Orlando. They’d already interviewed all the tenants in the building, got nothing new. Blanca and Xavier had moved into the building less than a month ago. They pretty much kept to themselves. Once or twice, she asked a couple of neighbors to put their garbage outside because the smell made her sick. She didn’t fight with them. She asked politely.
Xavier went to work every day at the convenience store. The manager told them he never carried large amounts of cash on him. He knew this to be a fact because Xavier signed up for direct deposit when he started the job. The kid brought his own lunch every day to work, trying to save money for when the baby came. Guy Ramos, Xavier’s boss, insisted the kid never drank or did drugs—he passed all the urine spot checks the company required.
Blanca delivered a baby girl the day after Xavier died, moving into her mother’s house after she left the hospital, afraid to go home to the apartment.
Burke sat with his snitch, Sniff Lee, who got his nickname for his fondness for cocaine. His nose dripped constantly. He sniffed or wiped it on his sleeve, telling everyone he had allergies. Sniff stood five-one, weighing in at not more than one hundred pounds soaking wet. His dyed jet black hair barely covered his scalp, exposing the whiteness of skin. The contrast created a bizarre effect in Burke’s opinion. He tried not to stare, though his eyes were always drawn to the top of Sniff’s head. All that framed an ugly face filled with pockmarks. When he smiled, what teeth he had left were brown. Sniff didn’t understand the word hygiene. He told Burke to look at Spike Jones, the local dealer, a mean, hateful man who had only one love in life—money. He’d cut your throat if you owed him a dime. Most people were smart, paid Spike on the spot for their drug of choice. Spike never sampled his own products. Beside drugs, he ran the hookers in town, disfiguring them if he thought they were holding out on him.
“Hey man, you know when you talk with Spike you can’t use my name. He’ll kill me.”
“If he’s so bad, why are you speaking with me, Sniff?” Burke asked, taking a seat in the rear of the diner. He ordered a burger and coffee from the waitress who sidled up to the table.
“Well, you know the kid who got killed…it just wasn’t right. I saw him every day at the store. He treated me real nice. With respect even. No one else ever did.”
“Come on, Sniff, you want me to believe you’re a humanitarian all of a sudden? What gives?” Burke pushed, sipping the coffee the waitress had put down.
Sniff had a soda only, didn’t order any food. “Man, Spike’s out of control! You know he cut one of his whores the other day because she refused to go out on account of being sick? When I got my medicine, he cut it really weak. Then the bastard charged me double! It ain’t right, you know. I pay his price, and I don’t give him no trouble. Why’d he do that?”
“Times are tough, Sniff. Everyone’s got to make a living.” Burke shrugged.
“Yeah, I hear ya, still…” Sniff stopped and looked around, a wiry, paranoid little guy. Burke understood the information could get both of them killed.
“No one’s around Sniff. I picked this spot on purpose. Just finish up your story. Give me facts, not bullshit.”
“This ain’t no bullshit, man. One of his customers lives in the building, or he did. He took off after the shooting. No one’s seen him since. His name’s Leroy Kale. You know Leroy—big dude. He hangs out at Berkley and Wiggins. Leroy thinks of himself as a badass, always harassing the girls going in and out of the building. Well anyway, I heard he bought some black tar. Leroy starts spitting some shit about how bad the stuff is. Leroy, he set it up so he could pay Spike on Thursday, when he got paid. Gives him his address, with the wrong apartment number—I’m thinking on purpose. He gives the kid’s apartment number, so when Spike comes around to collect; Leroy’s nowhere to be found. Then Spike comes back at night, and just starts shooting through the door, don’t even wait till the kid opens the door.”
“You got any witnesses?”
“Ain’t nobody gonna talk against Spike, you know—they value their lives.” Sniff shook his head.
“This isn’t going to do me any good without witnesses, Sniff.” Burke started to get up.
“Hey man, I give you a lead! What, you don’t wanna follow it?”
“It’s not enough, Sniff. I need more. Did anyone on the floor see the shooter in the hallway?” Burke asked, bored.
He knew Sniff held back sometimes, thinking of himself as a big businessman. On this case, Burke had no tolerance. He took out his billfold, keeping it cupped in his hands. Burke watched Sniff’s eyes light up.
“Man, I’m telling ya—I ain’t got no more. Spike wouldn’t just kill me, man. He’d cut me up first. I’m taking a chance being here now. Why don’t ya just give me some for the information I already give you?” He rubbed his thumb and two fingers together.
“Come on, Sniff. You know it don’t work like that. You gave me nothing. Everyone’s saying the same thing about Spike, no one’s giving details. It’s all in the details. When you have them, call me. We can negotiate at that time.” This time Burke made it to the door.
Sniff called him back. “I be dead, it be your fault, you know?”
“You’re not going to be dead.” Burke sat back down. “Who saw it, Sniff?”
“The lady in 3D, the one with the three kids—she won’t talk, ’cause she knows Spike would kill the kids.”
“How do you know this?”
“I know. She’s scared he gonna kill her anyway, so she don’t change her mind. You go visit her, you’ll see. She all beat up and afraid to come out of her apartment. She’s keeping the kids in, stopped talking to everyone. I think he raped her too. It’s the word on the street. Some said he told her after he killed her kids she’d be passed around to his friends and his clients. She ain’t gonna talk.”
Burke gave Sniff fifty dollars, told him to get lost. He paid his bill, and walked out to his car, where Kraus sat recording the whole conversation. “You get everything?”
“Yeah. We can’t go to her until we set up a safe house for her and the kids. I’ll work on it when we get back. You know this Leroy guy Sniff’s talking about?”
“Oh yeah. Badass is a kind word for that piece of shit. He’s on parole for rape, assault with a deadly.”
“It’s amazing how we work to get them off the streets when those bleeding heart assholes put them right back on the streets.”
“Yeah, I know. This Spike, everyone knows about him. We haven’t been able to get any evidence or witnesses against him. It’s why he’s still around. Talk about garbage, he is. I’ll call the lieutenant, set it up,” Burke said.
“Hey, I heard you order lunch, didn’t think of me?” Kraus complained.
From his right side, Burke brought the greasy bag up with the burger he’d ordered for Kraus. “I knew you’d whine, so I got you one.”
“Nice, thanks,” he said, biting in
to the burger.
*
Everyone crowded into Jake’s office. Mike Testa of Special Operations worked out the details for the safe house. Jake ordered round-the-clock protection for the Darcy family. The only officers involved would be Burke, Kraus, Romanelli, and himself. They wanted to keep this quiet with no leaks. At headquarters, only Mike Testa and Captain McGuire knew of the operation. Six people who knew the set-up. They wanted her and her children alive with no complications. They were going in fully armed, full protection, vests and all.
They chose a house owned by the FBI in Watertown off of Guernseytown Road; an old white farm house with a wrap-around porch, badly in need of a paint job. The driveway was a thousand feet long, and gave the team a clear view of anyone approaching the front. Open fields to the right, woods lined the left, merging into the back property line sixty feet from the house. It would be easy to monitor anyone approaching.
The captain wanted to wait until morning. Burke argued. He felt the longer they waited the less chance the Darcy family had to survive. He didn’t trust Sniff Lee to keep his mouth shut. In the end, the captain agreed.
Jake handpicked two officers to go in with them. He didn’t tell them the address, only what to expect—he expected them to be alert. They took three identical cars—Jake and Officer Sherman in one, Louie and Officer Burrows in another, with Burke and Kraus out front. Once in the cars, each officer who drove got the address of the operation. Louie and Burrows went directly to the back entrance when they arrived. Burke and Kraus went up the front. Jake and Sherman remained out front, shot guns ready, scanning the area.
Burke knocked on the door to apartment 3D. “Police, open up Ms. Darcy.”
“No, go away, I don’t know anything,” she pleaded.
“Ms. Darcy, with the use of cell phones today; you can bet someone has already called Spike by now. It would be wise to open up or we’ll take down the door,” Burke said, stressing that they’d take the door down. The longer they stayed in the building, the longer they were exposed. He felt he had a target in the center of his back.
IF I FAIL: A Jake Carrington Mystery Page 16