Meanwhile, Lana was busy explaining the situation, and her take on it, to Captain Hayden. After detailing the gist of the questioning and Eric’s responses—such as they were—she outlined the activities of her team. Then, somewhat sheepishly, she admitted they hadn’t gotten far on any of it. “We’re still working to discredit his statements, or prove them, whichever comes first, I guess.”
The Captain listened attentively, taking it all in, and not interrupting. When Lana was done, he sat contemplating her words in silence. Finally, with a slight frown, he said. “Only advice I have is to keep doing what you’re doing and follow your instincts.”
Lana nodded. “I will, sir. And right now my instincts say I need to go have a talk with the D.A.”
Chapter Seventeen
There is nothing quite like the high of solving a murder case; having the satisfaction of seeing a killer brought to justice and knowing you were the one who figured it all out.
But there is nothing quite like the low when things aren’t going well either. And right now, things were definitely not going well.
Lana was reminded of why lately she’d been thinking of switching careers. Why she needed a new career. Despite her love for it, detective work could be utterly frustrating—enough to make her want to pull her hair out at times. Sorting through the mass of evidence, trying to make sense of the bits and pieces was, on occasion, purely maddening.
On the other hand, that same process could be thrilling and exuberating. This case, though, had certainly been more frustrating than thrilling. And frustration tended to weigh on the mind.
Whoever said “Don’t take your work home with you” was obviously, not a homicide detective. Because, as a detective, it couldn’t be avoided. After visiting with the D.A., Lana had retreated to her cozy stone-built house for the evening, but that didn’t mean she had stopped working. Far from it.
Lounging now in her recliner, reflecting for the umpteenth time on the convoluted storyline Eric had given during questioning; Lana let her mind wander again, back to her early days as a detective. Recalling her first interrogation, she smiled thinking of how nervous she’d been. “How do I know if the suspect is telling me the truth?” she’d asked her training officer.
Detective Brent Daniels hadn’t answered in the manner she’d expected. “You don’t,” he’d said simply. Then, seeing Lana’s profound look of confusion, he’d explained. “That’s what an investigation is for. An investigator, not an interrogator, is the best lie detector test available. The two, however, do go hand in hand. And being a detective, you will need to play both roles.”
“So, as an interrogator, I should assume they are telling the truth?”
“No. Never assume anything. Just ask the questions.”
“What if it’s obvious they are lying? How do I respond? Do I change my line of questioning?”
Brian shook his head. “I know that’s what they do on TV but this is not a television show. As an interrogator, never make the mistake of deciding who is lying and who isn’t. Some people are excellent liars. If you start to rely on a ‘tell’ or your own gut instinct, eventually, someone will make a fool of you.”
“So why do we bother to go through with the questioning at all? Why not just investigate? Seems kind of pointless if we don’t know whether to believe them or not.”
“Questioning a suspect during an interrogation is not to determine if they’re telling the truth,” Detective Daniels told her. “It is to get them to talk. To get them to tell you a story. To give you something that can be fact-checked. Their words and the so-called ‘facts’ they give, provide an almost tangible body of information. That information can then be investigated and vetted.”
Lana nodded. What her partner said was starting to make sense.
“Only after an investigation is conducted, matching the story of the suspect or witness to the facts and evidence, can it be determined who is telling the truth. Until that point, make no assumptions.”
“Just get their story and then check it out.”
“Exactly.”
Hearing the sudden wail of passing sirens outside her window brought Lana back to the present. She smiled to herself. Recalling the old days was always a pleasant escape when things were not making sense. Although, exactly how Detective Daniels’ words of wisdom could help in this instance, she didn’t know.
“I guess I need to focus more on the investigation than the interrogation,” she told herself.
“Investigate the story,” she could hear the voice in her head saying.
“Which is what I thought I’ve been doing,” she mumbled.
With a frustrated sigh, she glanced at the clock above the dining room table. The hour was late. Another day slipping away, and almost nothing to show for it—again. The one glimmer of hope being the conversation she’d had with the D.A. that afternoon. She wouldn’t know for sure how that would turn out until the following day.
* * * * *
“We have a full report on the man and his phantom boss,” Jamie said to Lana when she arrived to work.
“Unfortunately, that isn’t a whole lot,” Damien added. “But the phantom part may not be accurate.”
Lana blinked in surprise seeing that he and Damien were there ahead of her. “Up a little early, aren’t you? Impressive!”
“It’s not that out of the ordinary,” Jamie protested.
Lana smiled. “What did you find?”
“Well, thanks to Ray, we were able to determine that if this so-called phantom boss does exist, there is a pretty short list of possibilities of who it could be. Only four guys in the area fit the profile. Well, five if you count Holloway, who technically, matches the criteria. We interviewed two of them last night and it doesn’t appear either are connected to the case.”
Damien added, “A third, Sonny Pierson is currently out of town, according to his secretary, and did not return our call.”
“When is he expected back?” Lana wanted to know.
“Later this afternoon,” Damien said. “Problem is, if he is our guy, we’ve already tipped him off by trying to make contact.”
Lana shrugged. “Can’t be helped.” Then with a questioning look, she said, “So, why did you say the ‘phantom’ boss might not be accurate? Sounds like you have nothing that suggests any of these guys are the boss, only that they match some sort of profile that Ray created.”
“Well,” Damien said. “That’d be because of the fourth man on the list.”
“Does this man have a name?”
“Perry Carson,” Jamie said.
Lana’s eyes widened. “The real estate developer?”
Jamie nodded. “And famed philanthropist. When we contacted him, he immediately clammed right up. Told us he had nothing to say to us and if we had any questions to contact his attorney.”
“And who is his attorney?”
“Well, that’s just it, he didn’t tell us, which was a little odd. But then, not ten minutes later, we get a call from a Miss Rita Faulk, threatening to bring charges against us and the Portland Police Bureau for harassing her client.”
Lana slowly shook her head in amazement.
Jamie said, “I think we may be on to something, ’cause Mr. Carson obviously has something to hide.”
“Not necessarily,” Lana countered. “While Mr. Carson may indeed have something to hide, it might very well have nothing to do with our case. I’m not saying it doesn’t, but rich and powerful people almost always have a few secrets.”
“He is rich and powerful,” Jamie acknowledged. “He runs a lot of successful businesses, in addition to his real estate ventures.”
“Low income housing, if I remember correctly,” Lana said.
Damien nodded. “And for that he enjoys some pretty hefty tax breaks.”
“Not a crime,” Lana pointed out.
“So should we bring him in?” Damien wanted to know.
“No,” Lana said, and then paused. “But keep him on your radar. If any
thing concrete turns up, linking him to our victims or to Eric, then we’ll bring him in.”
“And his lawyer?”
“Let me handle his lawyer,” Lana said. “Just because Perry Carson is an influential member of the community doesn’t make him immune from our investigation.”
Ray broke into the conversation then. “You just may get your wish.”
All three detectives turned to look at him. “What do you mean?” asked Lana. “What wish?”
Ray gave her a worried frown. “I just got off the phone with a very irate Rita Faulk, wanting to speak to the Captain about reigning in a couple of his detectives who have been harassing her client.”
“And what does that have to do with me?” Lana asked. “I wasn’t involved.”
“Captain Hayden isn’t here today,” Ray explained. “And when I informed Miss Hot Shot attorney of that fact, she said she would speak directly with you about it. When I told her you were busy at the moment she said she’d be down later this afternoon and you could make time for her or...”
“Or what?”
Ray shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t say. But I got the impression, she would make things hard for you.”
Suddenly, Lana whirled around, her mouth set in a hard line. Fixing her hardened eyes on Damien and Jamie, she said, “I’ve changed my mind.”
The two detectives returned a blank stare.
“About what?” asked Jamie.
“About Mr. Carson,” Lana answered.
“So, what’s that mean?” Damien said. “What do you want us to do?”
“Put the man under a microscope. I want to know everything there is to know about him, including what he had for breakfast this morning. If he’s involved in this case in any way, find it. Or any other questionable activities, for that matter. Whatever the man is hiding, we’re going to unearth it.”
“We get the picture,” Jamie said before she could go on. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, why the sudden change?” asked Damien.
“I don’t like being threatened by lawyers.”
“We see that,” Jamie said.
“You really think he’s involved with our case?” Damien asked.
“I don’t know,” Lana admitted. “It’s possible but I doubt it.”
Jamie gave her a dubious look. “Then why the third degree?”
Lana said simply, “If he is involved, obviously I want to know. If he isn’t, I’m going to need all the dirt we can find when his lawyer shows up.”
With a quick glance at the clock, Ray said, “That might be soon too, the lady didn’t sound like she wanted to wait and her offices are not far from the precinct.”
Lana shrugged. “Depending on when she shows up, she might be waiting whether she likes it or not. At the moment, I’m due for another round of questioning with our suspect. In fact,” she paused, glancing at the clock, “Mr. Schmidt is probably already there now.”
As she went out the door, Damien said, “While you’re busy with that, we’ll see what we can dig up on Mr. Carson.”
Already halfway down the hall, Lana called back, “We’ll compare notes later.”
One of them answered but Lana was too far away to hear what he had to say. “Probably nothing important,” she mumbled to herself, opening the door to where her suspect awaited.
Eric Schmidt, seated at the table and all alone in the room, seemed utterly bored. He looked up as Lana entered, not expectantly, only mildly curious. She noticed he still wore the smug look. She wasn’t surprised. Apparently, it was his trademark look.
“It’s your lucky day,” Lana said, closing the door with a solid thud.
There was no change of expression. Either Eric didn’t believe in luck or simply didn’t believe her. Silently, he waited for her to explain.
Taking her seat across from the suspect, Lana spelled it out for him. “The D.A. has agreed to your terms and is willing to drop the charges against you in exchange for your cooperation in our ongoing investigation. You also will be required to provide testimony at the upcoming trial.”
“So where do I sign?” asked a now significantly more eager Eric.
“I have the agreement right here,” Lana told him, shuffling through the leather satchel she carried. Pulling out a sheaf of papers, she said, “You may want to have a lawyer look this over.”
“I don’t need a lawyer,” Eric snapped. “Just tell me where to sign.”
Flipping through the stack of papers to the last sheet, Lana hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want to at least read through the agreement first?”
“No,” the bumptious Eric replied.
Shrugging, Lana produced a pen and placed it on the table beside the papers. “According to this agreement, you can’t be prosecuted for any of the crimes related to your association with the one who masterminded all of this.”
The contemptuous look still plastered on his smiling face, Eric signed his name with a flourish and tossed the pen down. “Am I free to go now?”
“Not quite yet,” Lana told him. “I need to get this to the D.A.’s office. He’ll need to have it filed and recorded. Then, we’ll have a few follow-up questions for you. Once that is all taken care of, you technically could be booked out. But it’s up to the D.A. how long he takes to actually give the release.”
Eric was not pleased with the timetable. That was obvious by his sullen stare. “So it’s not really my lucky day at all, is it?”
Stuffing the papers back into her satchel, Lana shrugged. “That remains to be seen. It’s still early. You could be out of here by noon.”
The placid smile gone, Eric said nothing. The dispirited look and the folded arms said it all for him; he didn’t believe her.
Instructing the guard to place the prisoner in a holding cell instead of returning him to the jail, Lana left, on her way to the D.A.’s office. An hour later, she was back in her office.
She still needed to finish questioning Eric, now that ostensibly, they had his cooperation, but Lana decided to hold off for a bit. Jamie had said Holloway was supposed to be coming in and she didn’t want to miss him. She was also curious to hear what her two sidekicks had learned about Perry Carson, if anything. Both Holloway and Carson could potentially have an impact on her still pending interrogation.
Chapter Eighteen
Lana was antsy, impatiently fidgeting in the chair at her desk, checking, and re-checking the time every few minutes. “I thought Jamie said Holloway was coming in today,” she called out to the patrol room.
Ray looked up from his computer. “Yeah, he did. But he didn’t say what time.”
“Any time now would be nice,” Lana grumbled. Then, changing the topic, she said. “You find anything on Perry Carson yet?”
“Actually, I did,” Ray answered. “It’s not much but it is rather interesting.”
Lana had gotten up and now stood at the door of her office. “Oh?”
“Perry Carson was recently the subject of a multi-agency investigation for ties to organized crime,” Ray said. “The investigation lasted more than a year and Mr. Carson was ultimately exonerated but he is now, understandably, quite disgruntled. Doesn’t look favorably on law enforcement of any kind. Thinks we’re all out to get him.”
“So there’s nothing to tie him to Eric Schmidt, Cascade Global Investments, or the murders?”
“Nothing I could find,” Ray said. “It’s doubtful he’s involved since the investigation was taking place during the time he would have been planning this and calling Eric. I doubt he would have engaged in anything of the sort knowing he was under surveillance.”
“Maybe he didn’t know he was under surveillance.”
“Oh, he knew. He filed numerous complaints over it,” Ray said. “For invasion of privacy.”
Lana was only slightly disappointed. So, Perry Carson wasn’t their guy. She’d figured as much. “Well, at least that explains his reaction to Jamie and Damien yesterday.”
“And that
of his attorney,” Ray said. With a shrug, he added, “Maybe Jamie and Damien will have better luck in coming up with something.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the two detectives walked in, heads held high and all smiles.
“I assume from the boyish grins, you guys got the lowdown on Mr. Carson?”
“Did we ever,” Jamie said.
“And by we, he means me,” Damien said.
“Hey, I helped,” Jamie protested.
“If you call stuffing your face while I did all the work, helping, then sure.”
“Guys,” Lana interrupted. “I don’t care who did what or who helped and didn’t help. What did you find?”
Damien was instantly serious again. “Well, we didn’t come up with anything using the usual channels, but I was able to learn that for the last year, the FBI has been investigating, Mr. Carson.”
“Yeah,” Lana nodded. “For ties to organized crime.”
Damien squinted his eyes, looking at Lana like she’d stolen his thunder. “How did–”
“Ray,” Lana answered.
“Oh,” Damien said, sounding a bit deflated. Then, almost instantly, he perked up. “But does Ray have a friend at the FBI who can provide the details of that investigation? And what they found?”
Ray shook his head. “You got me there.”
“I assume you do?” asked Lana.
Damien, smiling again, jumped at the chance to vaunt himself. “Well, my guy wasn’t directly involved in the investigation but he was familiar enough with the case to give me the highlights.”
“And?” Lana prodded.
Damien subconsciously cleared his throat, as if preparing to give a formal speech. “Our friend, Perry Carson, is quite the entrepreneur. In addition to his many legal businesses, he’s got his hand in a little bit of everything on the shady side of he street as well: drug smuggling, teenage prostitution, gun running, and illegal gambling, to name a few. Oh, and there is even some evidence to suggest he is involved in human trafficking.”
“You forgot video and music piracy,” Jamie piped up.
Dead Broke (Lana Denae Mystery Series Book 1) Page 13