The Last Straw, page 5
I shook my head, totally exasperated, opened my eyes and turned to look at Kate. She was standing beside me, waiting patiently. She’d known me a long time and knew I’d need a minute to calm down.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m ready to do this.”
And I was.
One thing I knew for sure was this: I had to get my head back into the case. I had to focus on finding Cassie Morgan’s killer and push all this other bullshit stuff out of the way.
As we walked together to the interrogation room, I thought about Cassie on that examination table, a double gunshot wound in her chest.
She hadn’t just been killed. She’d been executed. And, come hell or high water, I was going to find out why.
8
We stepped into the interrogation room to find Durag Eddie sitting there with a Coke can and a half-eaten package of cookies, both probably purchased down at the vending machines.
Sitting across from him was Sergeant Jeremiah Hemingway.
I smiled; no, I grinned, and for a moment, all my troubles were forgotten. “Jerry!”
Hemingway looked up and broke into a smile that must have mirrored my own. “Harry Starke, as I live and breathe!”
He got up and we shook hands.
“Where the hell have you been, Jerry? I haven’t seen you around here in months.”
It was true. Jeremiah Hemingway had been my partner before Kate. We were a great team. We’d put a lot of bad guys away, working the beat as a couple of rookies.
“Just got back from Nashville last week,” Jeremiah said. “Let me tell you, Harry, joint task forces may look good on your resume, but they are a headache and a half.”
I glanced around at Eddie. He was looking up at us, a scowl on his face. I dropped the smile.
“It’ll be great catching up with you, but later, okay, Jerry? Me and Durag Eddie here have a couple of things to chat about, right, Eddie?”
Eddie didn’t answer. He just scowled some more.
“You got it, Harry,” Jerry said. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Nice seeing you again too, Kate.” And he left the room.
Kate and I sat down across from Eddie.
“The time is three oh five on July 28,” I said for the recording, staring Eddie in the eye. “Present are Detectives Starke and Gazzara and person of interest Eddie Brooks.
“Mr. Brooks, you’ve been read your constitutional rights, is that correct?”
He nodded.
“Out loud, please, Mr. Brooks.”
“Yeah, that other guy, he read ’em to me.”
“And you understand your rights?”
“Yeah, I heard ’em before.” He looked defeated, then said, “Ain’t you supposed to be in trouble or somethin’?”
“Why? Because you’ve been spreading lies about us, Eddie?” I said, leaning back in the chair, folding my arms in an attempt to look as comfortable as possible. “Nobody fell for your story, and you know it.”
“But you guys threatened me!” Eddie protested.
Really? He was going to keep up the facade?
“Really?” Kate said. “What did we say to you, exactly?”
“Well, you didn’t actually say anythin’.”
“Because you ran the second you saw us,” I added.
Eddie looked nervous. “Okay, I ran, it’s true. But only because you looked threatening to me. I was scared for my life! And the cop that was just in here said I didn’t break no laws by running because y’all didn’t identify yourselves!”
I wanted to get angry. I wanted to tell this kid that he ran long before we had the chance to introduce ourselves, let alone identify ourselves as police.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I stayed calm and decided to use Eddie’s fear against him.
“Oh, you mean Sergeant Hemingway? Me and Jerry, we go way back. We used to be partners. He just got back from a big, state-wide joint taskforce. He was gone for several months, but we’re still buddies. So if you thought he was on your side, think again.”
Eddie’s eyes lit up. He took a sip of his Coke, trying to look calm, but he was sweating bullets; I could tell.
“Look, Eddie,” I said. “I get that you have to spin that yarn about us threatening you because you’re on parole. You didn’t want to get in trouble, isn’t that right? Fine. I’ll do what I can to make sure you don’t get into trouble for running, okay?”
Eddie put the can down, his hand shaking. “Okay.”
“But, and this is important, Eddie, I need to know why you ran. What were you afraid of?”
This was a classic fork-in-the-road situation. Either Eddie was going to admit to killing Cassie, or let something slip that would help us incriminate him, or he was going to admit to punching his girlfriend a few days ago, in which case I had to be prepared to stop Kate from losing it and breaking his nose.
As it turned out, he did neither.
“Okay, look. I didn’t know y’all were cops, honest. I ran because I thought you was somebody else.”
“Oh yeah? Like who?” I asked.
“I don’t know who, exactly.”
Kate and I exchanged glances. I let the pause hang there for a long couple of seconds.
“Eddie, you’ve got to give me more than that. Come on, tell us. What’s going on?”
“Okay, there are these guys, right? They keep harassing me. Threatening me. They even slashed one of my tires. I don’t make much at the warehouse. I had to take the bus for a week until I could borrow enough to buy a new tire.”
I frowned. What the heck was this kid talking about?
“When I saw you two at my work, I thought you was them. Honest! I wouldn’t have run if I knew you was cops. Me and my PO, we have a good relationship, yuh know?”
I leaned back again, thinking about what Eddie had just told us. Something didn’t make sense. I was so flustered from the accusations that I couldn’t put my finger on it, exactly. What was I missing?
“Harry,” Kate muttered to me.
I glanced at her.
“The kid doesn’t know.”
I got it. It was like a Roman candle going off in my head. Of course!
Eddie hadn’t said a word about Cassie’s death. That meant he was either a total sociopath that cared nothing for the girl, or he didn’t know she was dead.
I nodded to Kate. She knew what to do.
“Eddie,” she said. “When was the last time you heard from Cassie Morgan?”
We have an understanding, Kate and I. There are times when I need to carefully study the reactions of the person across the table. In those situations, Kate takes the lead in the conversation and I focus entirely on their facial expressions and body language.
I can study people and participate in the conversation, sure. But it’s so much easier for me to be able to focus on observation.
So Kate broke the news that Cassie was dead.
Eddie reacted predictably; he was surprised, shocked, and hurt. And suddenly there were tears in his eyes. His features tightened into a scowl. He started shaking his head slightly. “No, that ain’t true. It can’t be. Not true. They lyin’.” He kept repeating the words softly to himself.
I had no doubt that Eddie hadn’t known about Cassie’s murder. Durag Eddie was off the hook.
We sat there in silence for a moment. This was a lot for the poor kid to take in. He took another sip of his Coke, with his right hand, no less, looking down at the table, brooding.
I’d noticed the placement of the Coke and the cookies on the table earlier; the fact that he used his right hand to lift the Coke only confirmed it. Eddie wasn’t left-handed.
I motioned to Kate and wiggled my right hand. She got the point.
After another few beats of silence, I broke it, speaking softly. “Eddie. I know this is heavy, and I know how hard it must be to even think straight after hearing this kind of bad news, but I need you to focus for me, okay?”
Eddie looked up at me, his dark cheeks shiny with tears. Finally, he nodded.
“Good, so let me ask you again: do you know who it is that’s been harassing you?”
He just sat there, slowly shaking his head, then he shrugged and said, “Nah, man. I don’t know them. I figured they was from that filthy pimp, Dan.”
I arched an eyebrow. The kid knew his girlfriend was a prostitute, then.
Kate spoke up, “Dan Morelli. You thought he’d sent the goons to threaten you?”
“Yeah, I axed him, but he denied it. I didn’t believe him. I’d been on him last week because he doesn’t protect those girls the way he should. At least he don’t do it right.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean the… the customers rough them up sometimes.” He shook his head again. “Cassie came back from one date the other night with a black eye, an’ Dan didn’t do shit.”
Kate and I looked at each other. That settled it. Eddie wasn’t the abusive boyfriend.
“I saw that black eye, and I raged on Dan,” Eddie said. “It was, the what-ya-call it, the last straw. I told him to get his act together or I was gonna do somethin’ about it.”
“What exactly did you plan to do, Eddie?” I asked.
“I don’t know man. It was just talk, you know? Anyway, that’s when these guys started showin’ up, comin’ around, threatening me and stuff, telling me to back off. Of course I thought they’d been sent by Dan!”
I’d took out my notebook and scribbled a note or two.
“Okay, Eddie,” I said. “I meant it about your parole. I’m going to put in a good word for you. And, if your story checks out, you won’t be in any trouble. I promise… If you lied to us, though…”
Eddie didn’t seem like he cared that much about parole anymore. And why would he, after the news he’s just received? But he nodded anyway and said, “I ain’t lied to you, Man.”
I stood up, so did Kate. I stepped over to the door and tapped for the guard. I told the guard to fill out the paperwork and turn him loose. And then we left the room; Durag Eddie looked balefully after us.
The door closed behind us and we stood there for a moment, close together, Kate looking over my shoulder as I flipped through my notes.
“Well, I guess that was a waste of time,” Kate said.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, he didn’t kill Cassie or give her that black eye… if he’s telling the truth, we’re back to square one.”
“I don’t think so, Kate. Eddie gave us a new lead. Either Dan Morelli has more to tell us or there’s another player on the board that we don’t know about.”
Kate raised both eyebrows and said, “You mean the goons that have been threatening Eddie?”
“Yeah, them, or whoever’s running them. It’s got to be connected, Kate.”
She nodded. “Okay, Harry. I get you. How about we grab some coffee from the breakroom. Maybe the caffeine will help get those gears turning.”
“From the breakroom? Ugh… Okay, sure,” I said.
And we did.
9
I don’t know if there is any breakroom in any police station in the world that produces a decent cup of coffee. If there is, and if I were still a cop today, I’d put in for a transfer ASAP. One of the first things I did when I started my agency was to make sure the breakroom had decent coffee.
The breakroom coffee was hot, I’ll give it that. The warmers on the coffee makers did their job. But it tasted more like sludge than a good ol’ cup of Joe.
Either way, it was caffeine, and an excuse to sit at my desk and do nothing but think for a while. Kate sat at her desk, which was pushed up against mine so that, when she sat in her chair, she was directly across from me.
We just looked at each other for several minutes. She knew I was trying to think. Geez, I love that girl.
Finally, I broke the silence. “How’s your tooth, Kate?” I’d noticed she was rubbing her jaw again.
“It still hurts,” she said. “I keep meaning to call the dentist and see if he can fit me in.”
I nodded, dragged my thoughts back to the case.
“It might help if you talk your way through it,” Kate said. “You always say I’m a good sounding board.”
“Sure,” I said. “I just don’t know if I’ll make any sense.”
“Well, try me.”
“Okay.” I leaned forward on my elbows. “Let’s start with who was harassing Durag Eddie. He’s a smart kid; I could see it in his eyes. He’s not one for making up stories to stay out of trouble. And he honestly didn’t know about Cassie’s death. So who was threatening him? And how does it fit in with everything else?”
“Maybe they’re Dan Morelli’s muscle? That Tony guy can’t be his only henchman, right?”
“Maybe, but it just doesn’t feel right.” I rubbed my chin. “I mean, did Dan and Tony look like a professional outfit to you?”
“No,” Kate said. “They seemed like a couple of bumbling idiots to me.”
I smiled. “You’re not far off, that’s for sure. And, yeah, one or both of them could be playing that up as an act, but probably not. So what is it that we’re not seeing?”
“So we’re pretty sure Eddie’s off your list, right?”
I nodded. “Right. And I don’t like Dan for it because he’s too small. His feet are too small. And I’d like to see him try to heft a dead body from a car to a riverbank, even a little one, like Cassie. He’d probably die from a heart attack.”
“And Tony has that limp, so it probably wasn’t him,” Kate added.
“Exactly. But we still can’t rule him out. Not yet, because the footprints at the scene may not have been made by the killer.”
Kate sipped her coffee, made a face, and put the cup back down. “So, who does that leave us with, other than Dan?”
“It has to be connected to whoever was harassing Eddie,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Well,” I said, “first, I can’t think of anyone else. And two—this might sound crazy—I think it has to do with the way we’re dressed.”
Kate frowned and looked down at herself. We were both dressed in a similar fashion: dark shirts and pants and black, lightweight leather jackets, business casual but with a message.
“We don’t look like gangsters,” I continued. “We aren’t dressed up in business suits, right? But we both dressed for respect. We look—dare I say it—pretty damn cool, especially you.”
“What’s your point, Harry?” Kate asked, sounding a little frustrated.
“Okay, so something about the way we walked and the way we’re dressed spooked Eddie. He thought we were them. So I’m thinking that the goons that have been harassing him also dress and walk the way we do. What does that sound like to you?”
Kate’s eyes lit up. “Sounds like professionals. Bodyguards. Not common thugs.”
“Right!” I said. “Or…?”
“Cops? No, Harry. We’re not going there.”
I shrugged, then said, “Think about it. Cassie Morgan was executed. The gunshots suggest a professional. So either she was taken out by a hitman or a serial killer or… Okay, okay, we won’t go there, for now. Whatever, I’m thinking that Cassie wasn’t this killer’s first victim.”
Kate nodded. “Makes sense.”
I got up, suddenly. “So this is what I think we should do. We need to put out an alert to surrounding departments and counties. Everywhere within a hundred-mile radius. We’re looking for similar cases to this one: prostitutes that have been shot and dumped. Open cases. Let’s say, any female under thirty in the past five years.”
“That’s going to bring in a lot of responses, Harry.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s a long shot. But if even just one or two give us a match, we’ll have so much more to go on.”
Kate got to work on her computer, bringing up the digital request form for the information we were looking for. I walked around the two desks and stood behind her as she filled in the information.
It would take time to get that info, but I had a feeling it would be worth it.
The whole process took about twenty minutes. Kate and I took turns adding the information and checking the forms. Finally, she hit send and it was done.
“Okay,” Kate said, shutting down her computer, “So that will take a while. In the meantime, how about we go talk to Dan Morelli again?”
“You read my mind, Kate! Now that we’ve talked to Eddie, we do have a few more questions for our buddy Dan.”
“Just one request,” Kate said.
“What’s that?”
“We need to stop for some better coffee on the way.”
And we did!
10
It was early evening by the time we had coffee and pastries and were heading over to Cassie Morgan’s apartment, a place we hadn’t seen since the morning, but by then it seemed like a week ago: time flies when you’re having fun.
The whole neighborhood looked completely different now that the sun was low in the western sky, just feet above the great bulk of Lookout Mountain, my future home, though I didn’t know it then. All the hoodlums and lowlifes were out now. Boys were dealing drugs on the street corner, although they had their hands in their pockets and were whistling Dixie when they spotted our unmarked cruiser as we drove by. I really don’t know why we bothered: every criminal in Chattanooga could recognize an unmarked police car a mile away.
Needless to say, a lot of people were on high alert as we cruised by at five miles an hour. Lucky for them, we were looking for someone in particular.
My sniffer was smelling the bitter scent of prostitution. This seemed like the perfect area for the “working girls” to operate, and it was getting to be the time for them to get to work.
As if on cue, several women, and more than a few men, began strutting their stuff along the sidewalk, all obviously advertising their wares.
