“Why the kitchen?”
“I’ve already been on the phone describing the scene to the shrinks,” Greer said, interrupting Shane. “They seem to think he is reacting to the homosexual inferences in the newspapers. They think he wants us to know what a stud he is. According to them, he’s saying ‘look at me, can’t even wait to get in the door’. And he wanted us to know she was alive when he did it.”
“Wonderful,” Mann said. “He wasn’t psycho enough; we had to make him worse.”
Shane continued. “He did most of his worst in here.”
“What the hell is with that?” Mann asked, pointing at the victim’s abdomen.
“He used that bucket and cloth to wash her down,” Buchanan answered, taking up the story. “Post mortem, he cleaned up the blood on her abdomen and pubic area. He was careful not to clean up the evidence of the rape though.”
“But…” Mann said. “What does it mean?”
Written in permanent marker, with an arrow pointing to the dark patch of pubic hair, was
FRAUD
Chapter 64
Mann massaged his temples. The city was getting into a greater panic and this latest kill had done nothing to ease the tensions. Livermore was down at The Hill trying to ease the agonies of the Mayor while trying to keep his job with the Task Force.
“We need something solid,” Mann said to himself.
Like an answer from the Gods, Alf Buchanan walked into the office.
“Talking to yourself? Bad sign, Gregg.”
“So are bleeding gums and a stomach to match. Tell me you have some good news.”
Buchanan perched his thin frame on the edge of the chair and handed a file across the desk. Mann, recognizing the look in Buchanan’s eyes, didn’t bother opening the folder.
“Our boy is five foot five to five foot seven.”
“You sure?”
Buchanan shrugged. “Best guess, I have to admit. The girl was killed sitting down in the easy chair. The killer had his back to the wall. He slit her throat. Blood spurted from carotid. The first splatter shows him at about five feet. The second shows him at five five to five-seven. Good silhouette.”
“When he cut her, he was bending over. The blood sprays; he steps back and straightens to get as far away as possible. Backs right against the wall. The next heartbeat gets that picture.”
“That is how CSU reads it. I tend to agree. He did try to wipe down the wall, though.”
“So, he knew what he was doing?”
Buchanan shrugged. “The wall was porous, a plaster. Once the wall was treated, the darker spots show the original splatter pattern. He also moved the furniture to further confuse the issue. Indentations on the rug gave him away. He knew what he was trying to do, though.”
“A cop?”
Buchanan shrugged. “Or he just watches TV. Either way, the guy is intelligent. And cool. He just banged the girl and then cut her up something awful and still has his balls together enough to try and screw us over.”
“The video from the hospital puts him at five foot nine or ten.”
“He wore lifts, I suspect,” Alf said. “He took too much time trying to disguise the splatter.”
“He knew we’d get him on video even if we didn’t get his face so he disguised himself. So we can’t rely on the weight either. He could have been wearing a body suit. What about the shower?”
“We cleaned out the drain but it’s going to be hard to get much. We’re matching everything we come up with. We have his DNA so if we match a hair, we will have color. It is going to take time.”
“The one thing we don’t have. He’s working faster.”
Livermore walked into the office. Mann noticed how haggard he looked. “How are things at The Hill?”
“A zoo. You get anything, Alf?”
“We got a height. Five five to seven.”
“Which clears Drabick,” Mann added.
“Drabick is five nine,” Buchanan said. “I don’t want to eliminate anyone too quickly just based on this. It could still be him, stooped over. But if you want my opinion, it isn’t him.”
Chapter 65
Degget listened to the two detectives in the next booth bullshit each other about their waitress and who was going to leave with her. Nursing his third beer, Degget was depressed. These were the last two detectives on the SOCU squad for him to clear. And they were already all but cleared. He had found no evidence of any major amounts of cash, unexplained spending or anything that might lead to blackmail. Arnie had been right, nobody was totally clean but there was nothing to suggest any of these guys were in so deep that they would roll over on another cop.
That only left Flem and Degget had already cleared him in his mind, regardless of how he felt about him personally.
Inspector Flem had been the one that his Captain had met with regarding Degget’s deep cover operation. However, Flem was on the short list to replace Commissioner James and was tight with the Mayor. He had to have IA crawling all over him to vet him for this position. No way somebody gets that high and hasn’t been cleared right back to when they were still getting their ass wiped.
Suddenly Degget’s attention was brought back to the two detectives.
“Flem was totally pissed and was making noises like he would fire Beverly for getting the assignments all screwed up,” one of the detectives was saying. “We missed a couple surveillance opportunities. Flem made it sound like it was a big deal.”
Degget stopped listening as he suddenly realized his mistake.
Beverly was Flem’s assistant, a civilian who Degget had all but ignored. A position that close to Flem would offer some really useful information and the opportunity for a savvy person with good computer skills to find out even more. He had been so focused on the possibilities of a bad cop, he forgot that there were increasing numbers of civilians working on the Kesle force.
Feeling better at the prospect that it wasn’t another cop that had turned on him, Degget downed his beer. He quickly left to get some more information on Flem’s assistant.
Chapter 66
“Go Rams!”
Although Mann barely heard the shout, the ensuing commotion caught his attention and he looked through the door into the outer office. A janitor was backed up against the wall just outside the picture room. Blaak, imposing as always, was talking to the man. Suddenly, Blaak was pushing past the janitor and shouting.
“LT, come here. We got something!”
Mann hurried across the warehouse. The janitor was looking confused and frightened at all the activity. He immediately started to apologize to Mann.
“I sorry, Lieutenant,” the janitor said in heavily accented English. “I new. They send me from Division. Regular guy sick. I not know I not supposed to go into room. Door open so I clean. I no mean harm.”
“Gregg, he recognizes the sign,” Blaak said, ignoring the apologies of the janitor.
Mann wheeled on the janitor who cringed farther. Mann smiled reassuringly and the man relaxed. “You know what that is?”
The janitor looked at Mann and Blaak as though they were crazy. Other detectives had come up behind him. Nervously, he nodded.
“What is it? You said something about the Rams. The football team, LA?”
“No. What is LA? No this High School. My son. He go Freemont. They called Rams. That on shirts. Circle with curve. Horns. Rams.”
“Where’s Freemont?”
“No there no more. Big fire ten years. Two girls. No study and start fire. No rebuild. No more Rams. Too bad. Good football.”
Mann looked at his watch but it was too late to get in touch with the School Board at the offices. He sat the janitor down at the nearest desk. “Somebody get this man a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Then, get working on Freemont.”
Mann started back to his office. “Blaak, get the team assembled. Then, get me someone on the School Board. Somebody that has been on for a while. Ten years would be good. Send a wake-up call and a car. I don’t car
e what it takes. Call the flipping Mayor if you have to. Just get a trustee down here.”
Feeling the pall lift, he walked back into his office as his cell phone rang.
*
“I’ve heard from another source.”
Distracted, Mann took a second to recognize the voice. “About?” he asked.
“Uh-huh. He confirms. It’s solid, Mann. Real solid.”
“Where are you?” Mann asked.
“At a bar,” Dani replied. “It’s uptown along Banker’s Boulevard. Short Sell.”
“Isn’t that a clever name,” Mann said. “You still working on that piece?”
“Should come together for next week or so. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow night?”
Mann pretended to think about it for a while. “I guess so.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
Mann looked at his watch. It would be at least an hour before anyone arrived from the school board. There was time to take care of a little side business.
“I think I’ll find Degget and have some wings.”
“How coincidental.”
“OK. I’ll see you tomorrow. I may be late,” he added, nonchalantly.
“I may not be there to notice,” she shot back.
Mann put the phone down and wandered into the main office. Even at eleven o’clock at night, all the desks were filled. Degget wasn’t there so he wandered over to The List. Everyone on the Task Force, like everyone on the force, had to leave a contact number for after hours. The List, since they often contained numbers other than a spouse’s, was sacrosanct.
Mann dialed Degget’s number. When he got voice mail, he left a message. By the time he had grabbed a can of Pepsi and wandered back into his office, his desk phone was ringing.
“Mann.”
“Lou, you called?” Degget sounded relaxed but his voice was pitched low.
“Ya, would you like to get some wings?”
“Uh, I’m sort of in the middle of something here.”
“Sure, I understand,” Mann said. “I just got some information about an old case you were interested in.”
Degget played it calm but understood Mann’s message. “Well, it’s not like I’m doing anything important. Just let me finish up here and I’ll meet you. How’s fifteen, twenty minutes?”
“Know Harley’s?”
“Sure. I’m not far. See you then.”
*
Harley’s was a cliché cop bar in Southfield Division. It was all dark wood, a long bar, private booths along two walls and tables in the center. No cops were in uniform but two minutes in the place and you could tell you were surrounded with cops. Girlfriends were not encouraged and spouses were virtually outlawed. Still a sexist, closed lot, most of the brotherhood still felt uncomfortable with female members of the force. Most of the women knew they weren’t exactly welcome but found a way to put up with the bullshit and give as good as they got. It was a work in progress.
Degget arrived as Mann was talking with some Southfield detectives who weren’t on the task force. They walked to a back table that cleared when word passed that Mann was in the bar. At the table, they had barely sat down when Linda bounced to their table, braless breasts prominent under a white T-shirt. “Hi, Lou. What’ll it be?”
“Give us a pile and a pitcher.”
She nodded and walked away. They watched her ample ass, barely contained in a pair of shorts. “I don’t know if we’ll get one glass or two. I’m not sure she even noticed me,” Degget complained.
“When you grow up and get to be a lieutenant, you’ll get noticed.”
Mann brought Degget up to speed on the latest break in the Slasher case while they waited for the food. Linda was back in a couple minutes with a pitcher and a large plate of wings. Degget pointed at the pitcher. “What kind of beer is that?”
Linda laughed. “The Pepsi kind.”
“Shit,” Degget said, the disgust clear in his voice. “Can I get a Bud Light?”
As Linda left, Mann told Degget about Dani’s snitch. “She says it’s solid. Whoever is working this for Angelino is high up.”
“Doesn’t track with what I’m working on,” Degget replied.
“Which is?”
“It is early yet. Give me a bit more time. I’m feeling stupid enough as it is that I missed it.”
“SOCU?”
“Gotta be SOCU. I was burned two days after the meeting. No way that’s a coincidence. Coincidences just don’t happen. Not after two years. It had to be someone in SOCU. I’ve narrowed it down and I think I have my guy.”
“So you think we are looking for two guys?”
“It figures. Angelino probably has ten guys. But I’ll make you a deal. You can have in on my guy if I get in on your guy.”
“To be honest, I was hoping my guy was your guy. Davis has been looking at it and has come up with nothing. You were our best lead.”
“Sorry. Tell you what. After I finish taking care of my problem, I’ll be more than happy to solve yours for you,” Degget offered. “I’m sure a younger mind would help you seasoned detectives.”
Chapter 67
Hill worried the pick back and forth in the lock. His practiced fingers sensed the proper alignment and twisted the fine pieces of metal. The lock opened and he turned the door knob. Picking up the briefcase, he eased the door open. One minute and twenty two seconds after he started working on the three locks, he was standing in the front hall of the apartment.
A quick search of the apartment turned up an extra set of keys and about three hundred dollars. He took the keys but left the money. He went into the kitchen through the swinging door and saw what he needed. Setting the briefcase down, he began pulling several pieces of equipment out. He laid them on the floor and crouched behind the door.
Using a special epoxy, he attached a piece of flint to the bottom of the swinging door. Then, he carefully eased the door open until it was about half way – what he calculated as the point of maximum thrust. He laid a piece of metal on the floor so it was in line with the flint. He secured this to the floor. He stood up and nodded with satisfaction.
After waiting for the epoxy to dry, he tried the door. Pulling it open, the flint struck the metal. The piece of metal broke away from the floor but not before giving a large spark. Satisfied, he re-glued the piece of metal to the same spot on the floor and left the kitchen.
He sat down on the couch in the living room and opened his briefcase again. He removed a thermos of coffee.
Thank God for Angelino’s pipeline into the police. If not for that information, he would not have been able to clear up this loose end so easily. Between Angelino’s rat and his own network, finding his man had been a simple task. Hard to believe the lowlife was the Slasher but if the police thought so, who was he to argue?
He felt his phone vibrate in his chest pocket and then go still.
Taking the phone out, he glanced at the text message.
10, was all it said. He had ten minutes until he arrived.
Hill returned to the kitchen and went to the stove. He dowsed the pilot light and turned on the elements. He could instantly smell the gas. He eased out the kitchen door, making sure the flint did not make contact.
Picking up his briefcase, he casually left the apartment. Using the extra set of keys, he relocked the door. He left the apartment building but lingered in the neighborhood. Finally, his prey turned up. He didn’t look all that strange. Sure didn’t look like a crazy killer.
But Hill didn’t look like a hit man either.
*
Drabick came in the apartment and set the pile of mail down on the sideboard. He took off his jacket and tossed it over a chair.
The pile of mail was large but most of it was junk and bills. A quick look through showed him only two interesting pieces. He placed them at the top of the stack and went for a beer.
He could smell the gas before he even got to the kitchen.
Instinctively, he hurried into the kitch
en, shoving the door open hard.
*
“They said to wait for SWAT,” the patrolman behind the wheel cautioned after they saw Drabick walk into his apartment building. “They don’t want to lose this guy. Think one of us should check the back?”
His partner never answered. The explosion from the second story window cut off his words. They both instinctively ducked down as bits of building showered down on the car.
Seeing which apartment had exploded, the driver responded first and reached up for the radio mike. “Omega watch three to Omega central. Omega watch three to Omega central.”
“Omega central, go ahead.”
“We have an explosion at fifteen thirty Water Street. Request fire and ambulance. Plain clothes detectives on scene.”
“Roger.”
“Central? Get me a secure to Lieutenant Mann, immediately.”
While he waited for the patch, his partner got out of the car. He leaned back in through the open door. “Mann’s gonna shit.”
“Maybe the tax payers just saved a whole lot of money on a trial.”
“As long as Drabick was the Slasher.”
Chapter 68
Leonard Beverly.
Degget began to think of himself as a closet sexist. He hadn’t really expected Flem’s assistant to be a man. But here he was following a man in his late twenties out of SOCU headquarters.
Unfortunately, because Beverly did have a good alarm system in his home, getting any information that way was out. But although Degget’s own alarm system was sounding loud and clear, he just didn’t know if he could trust his intuition anymore.
Two years spent with nothing but bad guys made you very suspicious of everyone’s motive. It hadn’t been so much as if a guy was guilty; it was what he was guilty of. Besides, he wanted someone to be bent. He needed to find the person that had handed him to Angelino. That person needed to pay and so Degget was suspecting guilt where it might not exist. Still, Beverly just seemed wrong.
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