Johns had a coughing fit before he said, “I don’t spill on no one, you hear?”
The door opened, and a uniformed officer handed off a Snickers bar. Johns ripped the wrapper off and chomped a piece off with the side of his mouth.
“Hungry? Or you getting a case of the heebie-jeebies?”
“Look man, don’t play with me. I’m not feeling too good.”
Johns stuck a finger in his mouth to dislodge of piece of caramel and quickly took another bite.
“That meth eats away at you; makes you do some crazy things. But hey, what I am telling you about it for?”
Johns licked his filthy finger, grossing Luca out as he held up Johns’ rap sheet.
“You know what it does. Look at the trouble you been in getting the money to support your habit—stealing, putting the hurt on people.”
Johns scratched his stomach and wagged his head. “It can make you crazy.”
“Where’d you get those scratches, Jimmy?”
“What scratches?” Johns dug out his pack and popped another cigarette in his mouth.
“Newport? They’re the menthol kind, right?”
Johns nodded as he lit it.
“Beat anybody with a bat lately?”
Johns took a deep drag and slowly blew the smoke at Luca. “Don’t be trying to pin anything on me, man.”
“Where were you last Friday night, May fifteenth?”
“Home.”
“Really? Seems you were seen near the backyard of the Wyatt house.”
“Bullshit, I was home.”
“Couple of neighbors said it was you that night.”
Johns coughed again. “No way.”
“You sure you weren’t lurking around Seventh Street?”
“I told you, man, I was home.”
“Okay then, when did you get home?”
“I don’t know, like six o’clock, something like that. I kinda remember as it was just getting dark.”
That struck Luca as bullshit as it was still light out in May till about seven.
“What were you doing?”
“I don’t know. Watching TV, I guess.”
“You were high?”
“Uh, I—I—”
“Come on now, Jimmy boy. You need your meth every day, no?”
Johns nodded slightly.
“Can get pretty expensive. How much is a gram these days?”
“About eighty bucks.”
“A gram’s nothing to someone whose been hooked as long as you. What you doing now, eight balls?
Johns nodded.
“How long that eight ball last you? A day?”
Johns’ glistening eyes darted around before he hung his head and stared into his lap. “I remember when I first started using, it’d last up to two weeks, man. Now, shit, with me and Val, just a day.”
“I feel for you, having to score every day.”
The drug talk heightened Johns’ squirming and hacking.
Luca leaned his arms on the desk. “Where do you get the money to buy?”
“Odd jobs.”
“Yeah? What type of work?”
“This and that.”
Luca slammed his hand onto the table. “Cut the bullshit, Jimmy! Who’d hire someone looking like you?” He narrowed his eyes. “Where do you get the two hundred plus a day to support your habit?”
Johns hung his head again, whispering, “Well, you know, my sis; she helps me out. She understands the situation.”
“Bullshit. We interviewed her. She swore she would never enable you. In fact, she said she kept the door locked to prevent you from stealing from her, like you did in the past.” Luca shook his head. “Low as you can get, stealing from your sister, who provides you shelter.”
“Look, I did a lot of things I regret, and I don’t need reminding about it from a copper.”
Luca knew Johns had lost his respect, but he pushed on despite the smidge of sympathy he began to feel for him. “You and your lady friend turning tricks for money?”
“Fuck off. I ain’t no fucking queer.”
“So, a pimp or a thieving bastard, then?”
“You leave her out of this. I’d never push her to walk the streets, man. What the fuck you think I am?”
Luca sat back down. “Okay, okay. Look, Jimmy, you wanna get out of here, you gotta be honest with me. So, tell me, then. You steal to get your fix, right?”
The suspect shrugged, mumbling, “Only if there’s no work to be had.”
Luca threw his file on the desk. “You’ve got quite a record of breaking and entering.”
Johns shrugged and picked at his thumbnail.
“Did you break into Billy Wyatt’s house on the fifteenth of May?”
“No man. I told you all I was home.”
“You thought the house was empty, but Billy surprised you by coming in from the yard, and you whacked him in the head.”
“I didn't do it, man!”
“Yeah, what about Ron Briest and Lew Garp? You assaulted them with a bat, didn’t you?”
“No, man, you got it all wrong. They attacked me, and it was like self-defense and—”
“Yeah, right, self-defense, after you broke into their homes.”
A coughing Johns cupped his forehead with a hand and leaned on the table. “Look, man, nothing’s got to do with nothing.”
***
Luca was in the office rifling through files when Cremora entered. Luca asked, “How’s your Pop?”
“Good, thank God. Doctors said just a flare-up of his herniated disk, not a heart attack.”
“Good. I was worried—the way it sounded.”
“Tell me about it. My mother was frigging hysterical. So how did it go with that creep, Johns?”
“You didn’t miss much. He denied everything, but I keep getting a bad vibe from him.” Luca shook his head and briefed Cremora on the interview.
“What a creep. So how you want to play it?”
“Well, I had our guys revisit the backyard neighbor, and he stuck to it being Johns there that night.”
“He’s tall, so it meshes with another neighbor’s sighting.”
“I know. I’m thinking he definitely was there that night. The question is, doing what?”
Cremora asked, “So what’s next?”
“Look, let’s nose around and lay on his sister a bit. She was forthright, but I’m sure she’s holding back something. He’s her brother, after all.”
“Blood’s thicker than water.”
“Look, at the end of the day, this piece of shit needs to find several hundred a day for his fix. And stealing and robbing are what he knows. Who knows? Could’ve been a robbery gone bad, really bad.”
Cremora volunteered, “I’ll take a run at his dealer on Third. You never know.”
“Before you go, take a ride with me. I wanna check something out.”
Chapter 19
Vinny trudged up the stairs just when Billy Wyatt got slammed on the head. Was I dreaming or in another trance? This time the episode was really vivid. Details of Wyatt’s house were exactly as they were. It felt so real that I began to panic. It couldn’t be a dream, could it? Holy shit, was it really me who hit him? I struggled to pull off my sweat-soaked shirt, and I hit the ground with a thud.
“You all right, Peter?”
The light came on as I pulled myself onto the bed.
“Yeah, I fell outta bed.”
“Geez, how’d you do that?”
The scene of Billy getting hit was replaying in my head, and I blinked.
Vinny studied me. “You sure you’re okay?”
I wanted to tell him about what was happening in my head, but I couldn’t. “Yeah, just having these, these scary thoughts and things.”
“Just nightmares, that’s all.”
“You’re probably right.”
“With all the shit you’re going through, who wouldn’t have nightmares?”
I hoped he was right. “Guess so.”
“Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
***
Luca cut the yellow crime scene tape and opened the door. He took a step in and stopped, causing Cremora to bump into him.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Just taking a fresh look. You never know.”
They circled around the marker outline of Wyatt’s body, trying to unlock clues, when Luca said, “Look, you go out front, and when I tell you, hit the doorbell nonstop.”
Luca made his way slowly through the kitchen and out the rear door. He closed the door and stood by the picnic table.
“Okay! Go ahead, JJ!”
Luca strained his ears but couldn’t hear the bell. He discarded his idea and trudged to the back door. Swinging it open, he could easily hear the bell chiming. Luca paused as a smile creased his face.
“JJ! Come on out back!”
Luca waved his partner over to the picnic table.
“We know Wyatt was here out back smoking and having a brew that night. Let’s say the killer rings the bell, and Wyatt goes to see who it is.”
“Could be why the back door was open.”
Luca nodded, “Or he may have left it open.”
“Yeah, could’ve been left open a lot. Remember, the neighbor out back said he could hear them fighting.”
“True, so it would seem Wyatt must have known who rang the bell or was fooled into letting in whoever did it.”
“Maybe, but we can’t rule out that it could be someone who was here already and was premeditated or provoked somehow.”
“True.”
“Or even someone who had a key, like his girlfriend.”
“Yeah, guess I’d fallen into a trap by focusing on Johns.”
“I donno about any trap, but there just doesn’t seem to be a connection between Wyatt and Johns.”
Luca nodded. “Yeah, guess you’re right. A streetwise guy like Wyatt wouldn’t let a character like Johns in his house. It’s just—”
“Why don’t we take a closer look at Mary and some of Wyatt’s friends?”
“Sure, anything we can do to confirm or eliminate someone gets us closer. Let’s check with any friends of Wyatt’s who visited. Mary can help there if she’s cleared.”
“You want me to lay off Johns’ dealer?”
Luca drummed his fingers on his chest. “Yeah, for now, anyway. Let’s get a move on. I wanna to go to Freehold. I know the prints we collected aren’t worth a shit, but I’d like to see if Franco can give me anything to work with.”
“Drop me at the station. I’ll check into Wyatt’s girl and any possible visitors.”
Luca dropped his partner off and was about to head to the Freehold lab when he made a sudden detour and took Route 35 into Route 36, turning east into Keansburg. He parked a block away from the asphalt boardwalk and eyed a corner where two guys were camped out in front of a dilapidated house. As he walked toward the corner, a rundown car pulled up, and one of the dirtbags in front of the house approached the car’s window.
The hood took cash from the passenger and handed it off to his partner. Luca crouched out of view as the man with the cash surveyed the area. Satisfied it was clear, he signaled his buddy, who lifted a plank from the porch, grabbed a packet, and stuck it in the car window. As the car pulled away, Luca popped out and flashed his badge, bringing the car to a halt. The corner dealers started to flee, but Luca knew them well and called for them to stop.
Luca took the bag of crystal meth from the car. “Now scram. I don’t want to see your ragged ass here again. I can guarantee you the next time you won’t get a pass.”
Luca ripped open the glassine envelope and shook out the contents as he approached the dealers. He pointed to the senior guy, who was casually lighting a Marlboro.
“Franklin, tell your boy to take a walk.”
The dealer hiked his head, and the hood walked off.
“Getting brazen, Franklin? It’s the middle of the day, for Chrissakes.”
“What you talkin’ ’bout, man?”
Luca smiled and shook his head. “Look, if I was here to bust you, your ass would be in a wagon already. I’m gonna give you a pass today, but you gotta give me something.”
The dealer took a step back and smiled. “What you want? Some candy?”
“Information on one of your buyers.”
He took a drag on his cigarette. “I can’t be talking to no coppers, man. It’d ruin my—”
“Your call, Franklin. I understand.” Luca beckoned with a wave. “Come on, then. Let’s take a ride to the station.”
“Whoa, now. Who you be wanting to know about?”
“Jimmy Johns.”
“I ain’t know no Johns cat.”
“Look, we got photos of him buying.”
The dealer crushed his cigarette with his sneaker but kept quiet as Luca stepped closer.
“Look, Franklin, I ain’t got time to play games. Put your hands behind your back.”
“Take it easy, man. This Johns, he a tall guy, granny-assed glasses, tattooed arms?”
“Yeah, that’s him. What can you tell me about him?”
“What’s to know? He’s a regular customer, that’s all.”
“I’m interested in a Friday, May fifteenth, to be specific.”
“Shit, man. You think we keep fucking ledgers and shit?”
Luca smiled. “Well, then, maybe you remember being arrested that night for dealing at Hiccups?”
Franklin spat on the sidewalk.
“You got that case coming up, and with another arrest today, I’m sure the judge would revoke your bail.”
“Man, what you want from me?”
“Any information about Jimmy Johns that night, May fifteenth.”
“I donno, but the motherfucker came asking for credit—like I’m running a fucking bank.”
“So, did you give it?”
“What, you think I’m crazy, man?” He shook his head. “He’s a junkie, man.”
“So, you said no. Then what?”
“He told my boy he’d be back.”
“Did he?”
Franklin nodded.
“How long?”
“I donno—an hour?”
“What time was that?”
“I donno, man.”
“Come on, Franklin. Think. I need a time.”
“Maybe eight, nine?”
“You know where he got the money?”
He smiled thinly. “Probably like everybody else—stealing and shit.”
Chapter 20
“How’d it go with Deb?”
Luca rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to crawl out of the doghouse, but the warden’s making sure I serve the full sentence.”
Cremora burst out laughing and put his hand over his heart. “I feel your pain, bro.”
“Yeah, right. You get ahold of Foster?”
Cremora settled into a chair. “A ton of moving parts, Luc. Basically, they don’t know a lot about traumatic brain injuries, like the one Peter Hill suffered. There are a whole slew of reactions and symptoms. Each case can be different, but memory loss and erratic behavior are hallmarks of the damage.”
“Erratic behavior. What about violence?”
“Doc said it really varied, but that outbursts could definitely be attributed to the trauma. He said the damage caused the, um, the nerves to misfire.”
“Getting into the weeds here.”
“Trust me. You should have heard Foster blab away.”
“The doc say anything about old memories resurfacing?”
“You mean, like what went on years ago between him and Wyatt?”
“Bingo.”
“It didn’t come up, but it’s a good point.” Cremora frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t think to ask.”
“That’s why I get the big bucks, J. Call him back, pronto.”
“They said the doc would have to call me back. They said he was”—Cremora fingered quotation marks—“indisposed at the moment. Who knows, mayb
e he’s got a loony on the couch?”
“All right, let’s talk this over. I don’t want to be barking up the wrong tree, and if you ask me, Hill’s not even a sapling.”
“Yeah, but Hill does have some history with Wyatt.”
“Make that ancient history, when they were just kids.”
“I know, but some people are funny. They hold a grudge like it’s a bag of fifties. Remember that Asian kid who waited ten years before he blew away that guy and dumped him in Island State Park?”
“Yeah, but the guy killed his mother drinking and driving.”
Cremora said, “Just saying it is possible.”
“Unlikely, but you’re right. We certainly can’t rule it out. Now, Hill did know Wyatt, and we know most victims are acquainted with their killers.”
“Hill’s got a car that meets the description of one at the scene that night, though his brother says he’s not able to drive alone.”
“Question is, in his condition, could he have driven under pressure?”
“Maybe he’s faking it. He was alone that night, kind of a large coincidence that he always had someone with him. Maybe he waited for an opportunity.”
“No way, J. That makes no sense. The reason he’s a suspect is he found out about his girlfriend and Wyatt that night.”
“You’re right, but he still has no alibi.”
Luca nodded. “I know. Says he can’t recall. That’s the one thing that bothers the shit out of me.”
“I know. Way too easy, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, it’s convenient, to say the least, but then again, the kid suffered a bad injury and—”
Cremora reached for the phone ringing on his desk. It was the county shrink returning his call. Cremora posed the question about whether old memories could resurface after a brain injury and had a conversation with the doctor before hanging up.
“Things are getting interesting.”
Luca leaned forward. “What did Foster have to say?”
“He said it was highly unlikely that Hill would have forgotten about the humiliation he suffered as a child. In fact, he believes that painful memories as a child influence you throughout your life.”
“Makes sense to me.”
“But here’s where it gets interesting. Foster said that though it is disputed by most psychiatrists, there are some that believe memories can be displaced.”
“Like they didn’t happen?”
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