by G. K. Parks
“Not many people fit that bill.”
“Do you have a suspect in mind?”
I tugged on the hem of my shirt, growing increasingly uncomfortable. “Joe Gallo.”
“Go get dressed. We have plenty to discuss.”
Thirty-one
I went over every aspect of my investigation with Cross. He rubbed furiously at the stubble on his chin while I spoke, as if the friction alone would make the hair disappear. When I was finished, he helped himself to another cup of coffee.
“That explains a lot,” he muttered.
“Is it possible Gallo’s setting you up?”
“Anything’s possible. He’s a cop. I wouldn’t put it past him. Did Sara e-mail you his schedule yet?”
Opening my laptop, I logged in to find it waiting. “He was on duty the morning I was attacked. If he did it, his partner would have to be involved too.”
“That would give Gallo a perfect alibi.”
“It could be circumstantial.” I gnawed on my bottom lip, wondering what Heathcliff had uncovered. “Isn’t Joe Gallo your friend?”
“That’s far too generous a designation. We trade in favors.” Cross shook his head. “Not even. He just calls us with tips if a client gets arrested or finds himself in a sticky situation. Gallo even throws work our way, on occasion. None of that is reciprocated.”
“Why do you think he does it?”
“Out of some kind of misguided loyalty to my father.” A dark cloud formed over his head. “Gallo worked the original break-in. He had this weird fascination with Knox. It’s like the man never dealt with an unsolved case before. He’s a career patrolman. He doesn’t work investigations, so I don’t know why he obsessed over that one. The only thing I can think of is because I was involved. He must have figured it’d ingratiate him to the commissioner.”
“Do you think that’s all it was?”
“I’m just calling it like I see it. You don’t know what it’s like to carry around this name.”
“Do you think Gallo could have followed you out of the country and made the recording of you and Knox?”
“No, I’m guessing Knox filmed that himself.”
“Would Gallo have killed Knox to protect you?”
He squinted at me. “Protect me from what?”
“Knox mentioned your involvement with the Russians. You still haven’t told me what that’s about. You said once you were out, you’d tell me whatever I wanted to know. I want to know this.”
“I’ll answer on one condition.”
I knew I wouldn’t like it. “What’s that?”
“Nothing I say leaves this room. It’s for your ears only.”
“Fine.”
“I’m serious.” His eyes smoldered, warning me not to mess with him.
“What did you do?”
“What had to be done.” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Knox fucked with some scary people. A woman was killed as a warning to me. If I’d realized what was going on, maybe I could have saved her. But by the time I found out who Knox had pissed off, it was too late. She was dead, and I was next. I did what I had to in order to survive.”
“You killed Vasili Petrov.”
“Not directly. A gang killed Petrov in a drug deal gone wrong.” Cross put his bowl in the sink, ignoring my questioning gaze. “It’s possible I may have set those events in motion.”
I knew it but refrained from shouting it out. “Could the gang have anything to do with Knox’s murder?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Knox didn’t do business with them. His contacts were overseas. He used Petrov’s network to create his own smuggling empire. I can prove it.”
“How?”
“Like I mentioned before, Knox kept a ledger. He used to keep it in his office. Before he disappeared, he had his assistant deliver it to his house. He couldn’t leave without that. His entire business was in that book. I just don’t know where it is. If we find it, we’ll probably find the killer.”
“Is that why you went to the bank? You thought he had it in his safe deposit box?”
“I didn’t know what he had in there. We didn’t end things on good terms. You heard what I said to him. I thought he might have tried to implicate me, fabricate evidence, create a bullshit theory that I worked for Vasili. I knew as soon as his body was discovered, the police would come knocking. I had to know what he had on me.”
“So you broke into his safe deposit box?”
“Obviously not,” he growled. “Gallo told me they found a key on the body. When he described it, I knew what it was. I went to the bank as soon as my meeting ended, but I couldn’t get the lock open.”
“Did anyone else know you were going to the bank?”
“No one knew. I didn’t mention it to anyone before I went. Afterward, when I realized my mistake, I spoke to Mr. Rathbone about keeping sensitive materials locked in a bank vault via a safe deposit box. I told him I’d do some checking and let him know what I found. But that was after, not before.”
“Gallo knew you’d go. He fed you the intel. He must have taken the surveillance photo of you, unless you told someone else about the key.”
“Only Justin, but he wouldn’t do this.”
“You used car service to get there.”
“I always use car service for meetings. It gives me time to prep and adds some class to the operation.”
“When did you tell your driver you were going to the bank?”
“Right before we went to the bank. He didn’t photograph me, Alex. I would have noticed.”
“What about the rest of Cross Security? You hire and train the best. The techs routinely ping phones and monitor a vehicle’s GPS data.”
“An employee isn’t behind this.”
Everything about the situation pointed to Officer Gallo. I knew it last night, and that hadn’t changed. But I wanted to be careful. Cross’s biases would get in the way of rational thought. “This takes us back to my previous question. Do you think Gallo could have killed Knox?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Since Knox made his money moving product, I always figured it was a matter of time before he ripped someone else off and got a bullet to the back of the head because of it.”
“Instead, he got four to the chest, his fingertips and molars removed, and his skull crushed with a brick.”
“Clearly, he pissed someone off.”
“Someone who didn’t want his body identified but who was stupid enough to leave Knox’s most prized possession with the remains. How does that make sense?”
“It doesn’t,” Cross said. “Just like the murder weapon turning up in my car.”
“Could Gallo be on the take?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Do you think he’d frame you after he spent the last eight years kissing your ass?”
Cross laughed. “From what you’ve told me, Gallo makes the most sense. But if it’s not him, it has to be another cop. Someone he knows. Someone who could feed him the information to give to me. It’s the only explanation for the gun found in my SUV. One of them planted it. The police found the key in Knox’s shoe. They’re the only ones who could have put the bank under surveillance before they opened the box.”
Despite the fact I’d reached the same conclusion, I couldn’t help but play devil’s advocate. “The police aren’t the only ones who would have known. You’re forgetting about the killer. He would have known what was going on. The airport construction’s been highly publicized. He couldn’t move the body, but he could wait and see what would happen and then alter the evidence.”
“He’d have to know the key was in Knox’s shoe. If he knew that, why would he leave it there?” Cross asked a good question; one I couldn’t answer. He pointed a finger in my face. “See, you can’t argue with my point.”
“Then how did the murder weapon get inside your car?”
“Isn’t it obvious? The police must have found it
, held on to it, and once they connected it to Knox’s murder, one of them planted it in my car.”
“Yes, and Area 51 houses little green men.”
“They’re grey. And who’s to say it doesn’t?”
“You can’t just say shit like that. You need proof. We have to find something irrefutable or help the police realize they have a corrupt cop among them. But that’s infinitely harder since you admitted to wanting Knox dead on camera.”
“That’s not a crime. Had I known what would happen, maybe I would have killed him. At the very least, I would have paid more attention to the enemies he was making.”
“You knew someone would come for him.”
“Anyone who ever met Trey Knox knew that. He was a greedy, selfish prick with a gambling problem and a sports addiction. It was just a matter of time before he ended up underwater because of his wagers or because he scammed someone else. Petrov would have killed him.” Cross’s cheek twitched. “I should have let him.”
I scowled. “So much for wishful thinking.”
We spent the next few hours going over my notes and running checks on each of Knox’s known aliases. Since Cross knew the man, the little things might mean more to him than they did to me, but he seemed just as clueless. Everything hinged on the apartment Knox had rented. But Heathcliff had yet to call with an update. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was mad or busy, but I didn’t like waiting.
“You’ve done a lot of work on this,” Cross said.
“That’s what you pay me for. By the way, I’m billing you for my windshield and a paint job.” Going to the fridge, I pulled out the leftover box of pizza, placed it on a pan, and put it in the oven to reheat. Since it was already noon, I reached for the phone. “Give me a few minutes to see what kind of progress has been made on Knox’s bank accounts.”
Cross nodded, wrapped up in studying the evidence against him.
Mark promised he’d call once he had some info on the bank accounts, but it had been twenty-four hours. I should have heard from him by now.
When he answered, he sounded tired. “Namath’s cash transfers went to betting sites. He must have put the cash into an online account reserved for gambling. Other than that, the only money that went out of the account was to pay the rent. Based on the cash transfers, they look like they might have been automatically drafted too, but it’s hard to tell. Financial crimes is looking into it. I passed it along to Moretti. They’ll need court orders to gain access to the gambling site’s account information.”
“Do you have any idea where Knox’s aliases amassed their wealth? The accounts he had in his name were never touched and remained until his sister emptied them.”
“The transfers into the accounts came from all over the place. Always substantial figures, and always from numbered accounts. Several of them are Swiss. Others trace back to the Cayman’s. Two of them link back to the Mexican cartel. This Knox guy had connections to everything.”
“Including the Russians?” I asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“What about other crime families?”
“We’re still deciphering it. Since Knox’s other accounts have been dormant for so long, a lot of the numbered accounts closed years ago. So far, we’ve positively identified a few transfers from the Irish mob. But the intel’s too old. A lot of the players involved are no longer breathing or in prison.”
“Any transfers to or from local accounts? Maybe something linking Knox to Joe Gallo?”
“Moretti told me about your theory. They’re investigating. You need to stay out of it. I’ll let them know what I find.”
“All right. Keep me looped in.”
Mark grumbled. “What you meant to say is you’ve done your part and you’re going to stay out of it, so the professionals can handle it.”
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”
When I hung up, Cross looked up at me. “Anything?”
“Not yet, but the aliases I found for Knox might be the tip of the iceberg. The OIO found other accounts with equally suspicious names attached to them. The money transfers into the accounts came from several organized crime families and the cartels.”
“Sounds like Knox had quite the business.” Cross removed the pan from the oven and put it on the counter, helping himself to a slice. I’d never seen him eat so much. In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him eat before. “Do you think this will lead to anything?”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
Cross chewed thoughtfully. “Where did you find the photos? Detective Heathcliff said you brought them to his attention, but he didn’t elaborate. They were in the apartment, right?”
“Hidden in a closet.”
“How did the place look?”
“Tidy. Minimalist, except for the large display case in the living room. It took up an entire wall. It had backlighting and everything.”
“What was in it?”
“Sports memorabilia.”
“That sounds like Knox. It even sounds like the way his house was decorated.” Cross squinted. “The killer must have been afraid to sell off the collection for fear someone would link it back to Knox.”
“Maybe.” Before I could say anything else, the intercom buzzed. I went to the wall and pressed the button.
“Derek Heathcliff is here to see you,” the doorman said.
“Send him up.”
Cross picked up my files and notes and tucked them beneath the couch cushion. He flipped the whiteboard around and scanned the room for anything else the police might be able to use against him.
“Relax. Derek’s here to help,” I said.
“When this is over, you and I will have a long discussion about your naiveté. In the meantime, excuse me while I make myself scarce. Call Almeada when you’re done playing cops and robbers. He’ll let you know where I am.”
“What about your phone?”
“I’m not using my phone, and given how you’ve failed to listen to any of my requests, I’m not trusting you with the number to my burner.”
“Fine, but you should stick around. You might possess vital intel.”
“I’ll chance it.” He loaded and holstered his gun. Then he grabbed another slice of pizza for the road. Just as he opened the door, the elevator arrived on the twenty-first floor. Heathcliff stepped out, uncomfortable to see Cross leaving my apartment.
“Do I want to know?” the detective asked when I ushered him inside, watching Cross as he stepped into the waiting elevator and pressed the button.
“Probably not.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Is everything okay?”
“I woke up to Cross in my kitchen, so not really. On top of that, Martin left for Los Angeles this morning, and I’m still pissed about last night.”
“Martin said he’d fill in.”
“Oh boy, did he ever.” I waved off his question. “Right now, I don’t have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with that. Tell me what you found in the apartment that was so important it kept you from our support group meeting.”
Thirty-two
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Derek,” I wheedled, “you wouldn’t have found the apartment without me.”
He took a seat at the counter and rubbed his eyes. “Did Cross say anything to you about the photographs?”
“Just that he’s not sure who took them. We ran through the possibilities on the one of him exiting the bank. He’s certain Gallo’s the only person who could have done it.”
“Okay.”
“What do you think?”
“Gallo was on patrol when your car was vandalized and you were attacked. He and his partner weren’t on a call and didn’t respond to any during that timeframe. However, nearby security cams can’t place him, his partner, or the patrol car in the area. According to dispatch, they were parked fifteen blocks away.”
“Doing what?”
“Getting breakfast.”
“Do you buy that?”
“I don’t know. I spoke to Officer Swenson. He said Gallo’s been acting secretive lately. Gallo had something to take care of that morning. Swenson didn’t know what that entailed. But Gallo stepped away to use the john, and he didn’t come back for forty-five minutes. He could have made the trek to the bank to find you.”
“What about the white sedan? Could he have driven away, ditched the car, and backtracked to Swenson in that short amount of time?”
“See, this is why I’m not sure what to think of Gallo. Without a plate or VIN, we don’t have much to go on. DOT cams never saw the driver exit the vehicle. He drove it into a blind spot. The area around that apartment doesn’t have a lot of traffic or security cams in the area. It’s easy for someone to disappear if he knows where the blind spots are.”
“Do you know if Gallo has access to a white sedan?”
“He drives a red SUV. But anything’s possible.”
“What about the body armor?”
Heathcliff stared at the counter, barely nodding. “It matches.”
“That’s something.”
“Maybe.”
“And the ring?”
“I got a better look at it after you left. It’s missing two CZs from opposite corners. There’s supposed to be four total that punctuate the corners of the rectangle. The rest of his ring is pretty banged up. Tons of scratches.”
“Did you notice any paint transfer from my car on it?”
“No, CSU would have to find that. And I wasn’t about to ask him to hand it over. We’re not ready to tip him off yet.”
“We? Did Moretti go to IA with this?”
“They know what we suspect. They’re looking into the possibility.”
“Does that mean the charges against Cross will be dropped?”
“Not yet.”
“But shouldn’t this clear him?”
Heathcliff stared into my eyes. “Why?” I opened my mouth, but Heathcliff held up his hand. “The murder weapon was in Cross’s SUV.” He had me there. “Consider this. Cross and Gallo cross paths after the break-in at Trey Knox’s house. They find out Knox is involved in criminal activities, possibly organized crime. Instead of turning Knox in, Cross does something stupid. Knox threatens to blackmail him. Cross kills him and gets Gallo to keep tabs on the case. As soon as Knox’s body is found, Gallo contacts Cross. But Gallo grows a conscience or he’s afraid Cross is going to cut him out of whatever arrangement they have, so Gallo keeps an eye on Cross and makes sure we have enough evidence to take Cross down if it comes to it.”