Done Rubbed Out: Reightman & Bailey Book One

by Jeffery Craig

  “What door?” Sam asked, overhearing her as he returned with his full cup.

  “This door,” she said as Jackson looked over her shoulder. “This one, right here.”

  “Oh, that’s to the stairwell leading up to the roof. Since it is painted the same color as the walls, it kind of blends in, I guess. That’s probably why you don’t remember.”

  “Did the team check it out?”

  “I’m pretty sure they did, but I’ll check.” He put his cup down and pulled opened a paper file with handwritten notes. After reviewing the notes, he confirmed, “Yep, they checked it out. As I said, it opens onto a set of stairs leading up to the roof. There’s a door at the top for roof access, and about halfway up there’s an access panel to the ductwork. Laurie said there was nothing to be found either in the stairwell, or on the roof.” He closed the file and picked up his coffee. “Satisfied?”

  “I guess I am,” she said, disappointed she was back to square one. “I’d hoped for a minute that I’d found something new to check.”

  “You know better than to find clues where there aren’t any,” Sam chided her gently.

  “You’re right, I do.” She reached for her tea as her desk phone rang. “Reightman, here.”

  “Hey, Melba,” Nancy’s cheerful voice came through the connection. “Two things: the first is the Chief wants to know if you can drop by his office in a couple of minutes so he can get an update. He said he also has another thing he wants to talk to you about. He didn’t say what.”

  “Sure thing, Nancy. I‘ll be over in about five minutes.”

  “Okay, good. The second thing is, I've decided I’m not mad anymore. That’s it. See ya’ in a few minutes.” Nancy hung up.

  “I guess my gift worked. Nancy’s no longer out to get me.”

  “That’s good. You better be extremely grateful.”

  “I am, believe me!” She hunted her notes, and finally found them under her mug. “The Chief wants to see me as well.”

  “About what?”

  “Not sure,” she admitted as she stood up and pushed her chair back under the desk. “Hey, Sam?”

  “Yeah?” he didn’t move his eyes from the file he was looking at on his screen.

  “What’s wrong with that plant? It looks like it’s dying. I don’t remember it looking like that before.”

  “Oh my God…”

  “Are you alright?” she asked as he stared at the dead and dying foliage.

  “Yeah, this just really…bothers me for some reason.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Someone on the night cleaning crew probably spilt some sort of toxic chemical on it, or something like that. You didn’t water it with anything did you?” she asked, enjoying the stricken look on his face. He didn’t respond, so she gathered up her things and departed, firing her final shot. “Loosen up partner, it’s just a plant. It’s not like you’re the one dying.”

  Chief Kelley’s office door was open and Nancy was at her desk typing away.

  “Good morning, Nancy.”

  “Hey, Melba. The scarf looks good, don’t you think?” Nancy fingered the silk around her neck.

  “It looks beautiful,” Melba agreed. “Is he ready for me?”

  “He sure is. He said for you to go on in when you got here. I’m going to get him a coffee. You want anything?”

  “Thanks, but I’m good right now.” Reightman knocked on the door frame. “Good morning, Chief.”

  “Detective Reightman. Grab the door, then grab a seat.”

  She closed the door and then settled herself into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Nancy said you wanted an update.”

  “Yes, I do. With the crazy schedule I ‘ve been keeping the last day or so, I thought this morning might be the only time for us to catch up,” Kelly leaned back in his chair. “Tell me where you and Jackson are with the Guzman case.”

  “Well, let me start with the discussion we had yesterday with Doctor Evans, the new coroner.” She proceeded to give him the details from the day before, including the facts relating to the body’s mutilation by Lieberman.

  “I never did like him, Reightman, and I didn’t care who knew it. But this seems extreme, even for that SOB. Still, Evans is highly regarded, and if she says it was done after the body was brought in, then it must be the case.” There was a knock on the Chief’s door and Nancy entered with the Chief’s fresh coffee and a couple of forms for him to sign. “Any progress in locating Lieberman?” He took a sip from the cup and scowled at the forms Nancy thrust his way.

  “No, sir. Jones and Mitchell are trying to track down any possible lead but they aren’t having much luck.”

  ‘Have they tried checking on relatives in the area?”

  “Yes, but there doesn’t seem to be any they can find.”

  “How about his mother’s place?’ asked Nancy to both Reightman’s and Kelly’s surprise.

  “His mother’s place?”

  ‘’Yeah. She was a really sweet old lady. I’d see her at bingo.” Nancy frowned for a second, remembering her aborted bingo outing which was still tied to Reightman in her mind, but then her face cleared. “She had a funny name. It reminded me of a field of flowers or something.”

  “Her name wasn’t Lieberman?”

  “Nope, she remarried. I’d see them both once in a while, and occasionally Doctor Lieberman was with them.” Nancy screwed up her face in thought, and finally gave up, shaking her head. “Sorry, but I can’t think of her name. I thought I had it for a minute." She took the signed forms from the Chief and started to leave.

  “Thanks for the tip, Nancy. Even if you don’t remember the name, we have another piece of information to track down. That’s a big help.”

  “You’re welcome, Melba. But don’t worry – I’ll remember the name eventually.”

  The Chief waited until the door closed. “That just goes to show information can come from the most unlikely places, and I can’t think of a more unlikely place than Nancy.” He took another sip of coffee and then leaned his elbow on the desk. “I suppose you’ve heard about Greggs’ retirement?”

  “Yes, Sam filled me in. Assistant Chief Greggs will be missed around here.”

  “Yes, he will. Probably time for him to head to greener pastures though, while he can still enjoy himself.”

  “Any idea’s on whom his replacement will be, Chief?”

  “Funny you should ask, Reightman,” he leaned back in the chair causing the usual squeals and groans. “Have you thought about tossing your hat into the ring?”

  “Maybe a little, but not seriously.”

  He eyed her intently. “Give it some thought. You might find you have more support than you suspect.”

  “And more detractors.”

  “That comes with the territory, Reightman.” He took another drink of his coffee, and placed the cup down on the desktop. “Think about it. Seriously think about it.”

  “I will Chief. Thanks for the encouragement. If I did consider it, who’d pick up the Guzman case?”

  He hedged for a minute, and shuffled a few things around on his desk. “Well, I don’t know, but I could probably find someone to handle it.”

  “Speaking of supporters and detractors, how was the meeting with the Mayor?”

  "Which meeting? Seems all I do these days is attend meetings with the Mayor, members of the city council and bureaucrats of various shapes and titles.”

  “I was wondering how the meeting was after Councilman Dameron’s…” she searched for the appropriate word.

  “Prophecy of Doom?” Kelly suggested sarcastically. “It went about as well as you might suspect. She ranted and raved a little, told me she hoped we made more progress, and then suggested, ever so politely, that I might try and show a little support for Dameron.”

  “Support for Dameron? That’s really something coming from her. She hates Dameron!”

  “She’s certainly not a fan of his, but if I read things correctly, she’s worried. Damer
on has a pretty big war chest and she can’t afford to alienate him, no matter how he castigates the current city structure and leadership of various city departments – this one included.” He sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes. “She is smart enough to know he has strong backing from some quarters and she’s waiting for the election to play out.”

  “She can’t seriously think he might win.”

  “I think she does. He’s the incumbent, and incumbents have a natural advantage. He’s stepped on his own foot a few times, but even with that, he still has a better support base than his opponents. One is too young and unexperienced, and in the other is as left-winged as Dameron is right-winged. If you put Sutton Dameron and that one together, you’d almost have a bird that could fly without wobbling.” He chuckled for a brief minute and then shook his graying head. “As much as I hate to admit it, Madame Mayor has a point. If he wins, he could completely upset the voting balance on the council and hamper every department that provides critical services to the city. He’d do it too, just to prove his power. Add that to his track record of changing his horse mid-stream and he’s totally unpredictable and a threat. As long as he can claim what he terms the moral and righteous high ground, he can make things very unpleasant for us all.”

  Reightman considered everything the chief said and found that, although she didn’t like it, she had to agree. “That whole scenario is too depressing for words, sir, but your read is probably spot-on.”

  “I’ve been wading through the trash for a long time. I’ve learned to bend when I need to in order to survive and keep this department running the best I’m able. I do what I need to do.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  He looked at her from beneath his brows and then told her flat out. “Find Lieberman, Detective,” he said. “Button up this case. And hope to hell that it will pacify the beast without upsetting too many of its handlers.”

  On that happy note, she stood and made her goodbyes

  “Roses, Melba,” Nancy said as she exited the Chief’s office. “Lieberman’s mother’s name had something to do with roses.”

  “Are you sure, Nancy?”

  “I think so. You see, she used to wear this little rhinestone brooch of a rose. I complimented her on it once and she said her new husband had given it to her for her birthday. She said it was supposed to represent their name.”

  “Hmmm. You said in the office her name had something to so with a field of flowers, Nancy. Maybe you meant it was a field of roses?”

  “That’s it, Melba! A field of roses! Her name was Rosefield,” she said with complete confidence before furrowing her brow and adding, “Or something like that.”

  “We’ll check it out, Nancy. I’m sure it’ll turn out to be just as you remembered. I’ll talk to you later,” she called over her shoulder and went to tell Sam to get Jones and Mitchell hunting down property owned by the Rosefields – or something like that.

  ♦♦♦

  Toby spent his morning gathering up a load of packing boxes and tape before driving to Geri’s apartment to begin sorting through things. He dreaded it, but knew it had to be done. He stopped for a couple of bottles of water and ten minutes later pulled up the driveway of the three-plex. He got out of the car and gathered up an armful of stuff from the trunk, looping the plastic shopping bag around one hand. He trudged up the stairs leading to the second floor unit and fumbled with the keys as he tried to unlock the door. Giving up, he set the boxes down, inserted the key and opened the door. He picked up the boxes and stepped into the apartment.

  “The police might have been thorough, but they sure weren’t neat,” he thought as he surveyed their handiwork.

  Books were stacked on the floor by the makeshift shelves and there was a cushion off of the old tattered couch. He made his way into the small open kitchen and noted opened drawers and cabinets. He sat the bag of water on the counter and flipped on the lights then opened the blinds before walking down the hall to one of the small bedrooms. The door was open, and from the doorway, Toby could see blankets and pillows haphazardly thrown on the floor. He pushed open the door to the other bedroom across the hall. It was empty, and had probably stayed empty ever since he’d moved out six months earlier. He walked to the closet and pulled open the bi-fold doors. It was empty as well, except for a few hangers on the wooden rod.

  He looked around the empty space and then went into the bathroom at the end of the hall. The medicine cabinet was opened, and the doors to the small vanity were ajar. The shower curtain had been pulled back and he could see a couple of bottles of bath gel and shampoo were missing their lids. He shut the medicine cabinet door and went out of the room.

  Back in the living room, he placed the cushion back on the sofa and took a seat, taking it all in. The room, and the whole apartment, wasn’t very large, but had been the best they could afford when they had moved to the city. It was close to the college they attended together and for some reason, they’d never moved.

  “Where to start?” With a depressed sigh, he got up from the couch and began putting together a few boxes, strapping the bottoms with the roll of clear tape. He began tossing books into a box, not even looking at their titles. He’d taken everything he wanted when he left. After he finished with the books he started on the kitchen, emptying the drawers and cabinets into another few boxes. He cleaned out the fridge, bagging most of the stuff to carry to the trash later. He drank some water and then moved the boxes out into the living room. He decided to get someone in to clean later.

  He filled more boxes with a few knickknacks, CDs and the things from the coffee table, separating a few things out for Grams, and then taped and sealed them. He took down the paintings and prints from the walls. He unhooked the small television and the speakers to the stereo system and carried them down and put them into his back seat. He forced himself up the stairs. “Just a few rooms more.”

  He carried a box and some trash bags into the bathroom and filled them, consigning more to the trash than to the boxes. He considered the shower curtain, and decided to leave it. The bathroom wasn’t dirty, just messy. Geri always kept it clean. He carried the filled bags and boxes back to the living room and stacked them with the others. Then he picked up a few of the remaining empties and headed to the bedroom. He folded the sheets and blankets from the floor and set them on the mattress. The room was heating up, so he took off his shirt and turned on the ceiling fan. Then he opened the closet doors.

  One by one he took down shirts and trouser and lightweight coats and folded them and stowed them into boxes. “I’ll donate them,” he decided. “Someone will want them.” He packed up Geri’s shoes. He opened the dresser drawers and emptied out the socks and then the underwear, not looking at any of them closely in case he should recognize a pair. He cleaned out the small nightstand and packed the alarm clock from its top. “Almost done, Toby.”

  He carried the filled boxes into the living room and placed them next to the others, and grabbed the last box and a bottle of water and headed back down the hall. Sitting the water on the dresser, he started taking items from the dresser top and putting them into the box on the floor. He straightened and stretched his back, and then reached for a picture that was lying face down on the dresser surface. He picked it up and turned it over, and his heart stopped.

  He forced himself to breathe again. Stumbling backwards toward the bed, he sat down on the edge and closed his eyes. After a minute, he looked at the framed photo in his hand.

  The picture had been taken by Grams the day they moved in to the apartment. Geri was seated next to him on a step near the top of the stairs, and had his arm slung across the back of Toby’s shoulders. They both had on ratty t-shirts. Geri was wearing sneakers and Toby’s feet were bare. They smiled down at the camera held a few steps below and their eyes were filled with happiness and pride.

  “Smile,” Grams had said as she took the photo. “Hold still, boys – especially you, Toby Bailey! I want to get one more – just in case.”<
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  Toby wiped a speck of dust from the glass and lifted the photo toward his face. After a moment he pulled it to his chest and lay down on the bed, his eyes trained on the whirling ceiling fan above. He heard the click, click, click, as the silvery pull chain hit the glass globe below the blades. Light from the window sparkled off the tiny round spheres of the chain.

  “Hold onto the chair steady, Toby! I’m almost finished.” Geri stretched to tighten the remaining screw on the ceiling fan light.

  The boys had spent the day hauling up boxes and belongings to the new apartment, while Grams scrubbed the kitchen and organized things in there. The day before the movers had dropped off the collection of hand-me-down and garage sale items meant to furnish the place, and the mattress company had delivered two new full-sized beds, complete with metal frames. Grams left soon after, but not before getting one last picture of them both sitting on the steps to the new place.

  There were just a few things they needed to finish before they could quit, and hanging the fan in Geri’s room was third to last on the list. They still had to make the beds and find something to eat, but the hard day was almost over, and they were well satisfied with all they’d done.

  “I think that’s got it.” Geri gave the globe a soft tug to make sure it was secure and then hopped down from the chair and looked up.

  “The chain’s too short,” Toby observed critically. “You’ll never be able to reach it.”

  “Sure I will,” Geri disagreed and reached upward to prove Toby wrong. “Ouch!” He rubbed the side of his neck.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I think I just pulled something.” Geri rolled his shoulder and then tilted his neck from side to side, wincing as he did so. “I think you’re right, Toby. That chain is too short.”

  “Told you so. We can get an extender chain at the store tomorrow. Just don’t forget to put it on the list,” Toby said, referring to the list they’d started that morning which was categorized into important things, kind of important things, and things that would be nice to have sometime in the future. “Are you ready for some food?”