First Murder (13 page)

Roxie kept looking over at the cabinet over the range. Ray guessed that’s where the liquor was. He weighed the idea of telling her to go ahead and have a drink and decided against it. They were about through there. The LA trip and the strip club incident didn’t seem to be going much further, if it had ever had any legs at all.

Back in the car, Carol was thoughtfully smoking another Marlboro while Ray flipped through his notebook.

“What are you thinking?” Carol asked.

“I’m thinking we need a motive. Did you buy all that…that they never fought?”

“Not a chance. But I think they may have picked their battles carefully.”

“Go on.”

“As a group their biggest dilemma would be where to go for dinner or whose house to party at. As a group they would be careful to maintain peace and order. Keep the vibe positive. Individually? You
cannot
have a half dozen women in close contact without, what do you call it? Friction? That’s your word isn’t it?”

“It’s a good word,” Ray said.

“I don’t see them as swingers.”

Ray’s eyebrows went up when he turned toward her. “That came out of left field.”

Carol explained. “I thought of it when she talked about Deanna’s husband, how he had an open invitation. Maybe I’ve been in Sex Crimes too long.”

“But you think there’s some sexual tension there?” Ray asked. He hadn’t picked up anything like that.

“We haven’t met this Karen Hewes yet, but I’ll bet you she’s as good looking as the rest of them. The Marland woman’s attractive, right?”

Ray nodded. “And so is Erika Hilgendorff. The only one out of sync is Allyson Couts.”

“My bet is that Couts isn’t part of the inner circle. She’s not as close as the others.” Carol started the car. The interview with Roxie Kennebrew had taken a while. She waited for Ray to tell her where to go next, wondering if they should try to match up with the Hewes’ woman or head for the office.

“I wonder how de Luca’s doing?” Ray asked. He didn’t expect her to answer. He decided to head back to the station, to the office to do some thinking. He needed more information, needed to talk to Lipka and Pao, check in with Kumpula and see if any interesting forensics had appeared. Then he was going to get them all together to go over it all—the interviews, the neighbors, the science. There was something lurking in there, there had to be.

There always was.

S
o this is what it’s like on a stakeout Tony said to himself for the tenth or twelfth time in the last three hours. He was parked across the street from the pale blue house Scott Jr. shared with Hong and Swenson and the elusive Sean Stuckey. Scotty was still with his father, he assumed. Swenson had come and gone once. David Hong was in the house. No one had a picture of Stuckey. Tony’s plan was to approach the house when anyone entered that he didn’t recognize.

Tony thought that it was a lot of work just to clear a fringe element. Beyond Scott Jr. the roommate connection was tenuous at best. He wondered if Ray was sticking him out here to keep him out of the way, keeping him from screwing something up. It wasn’t a big confidence builder.

Most of the houses on the street were student rentals. Tony watched as the twenty something men and women came and went. They all seemed to be in constant motion. Some driving, most walking—to the bus stop on the corner two blocks up, to the small grocery on the corner, or to whatever lay on the avenue beyond. There was a pizza place close by but out of sight. The smell had been driving him crazy for the last hour.

Just fifteen minutes
. Tony’s stomach growled, arguing that he wouldn’t miss Stuckey if he scooted over for a slice or two of thin crust. He imagined pepperoni and mushrooms and onions and black olives swimming in mozzarella, little pools of grease puddling on the surface of the pie, steam rising, the smell of a tangy, biting tomato sauce and oregano blending with the cheeses and the sausage.

He was reaching for the car’s ignition when his phone rang. He noticed who was on the other end and smiled as he touched the screen.

“Hi.” Caller ID is a wonderful thing, he thought, as he greeted Sue Ellen.

“Hi yourself, detective. Caught any bad guys today?” She seemed to be in a good mood.

“I wish. Hey, you want to join me on a stakeout?”

“Doesn’t that sound like fun?” He could tell she didn’t really think so. “Who are you staking out? Or can’t you tell me.”

Tony leaned back in the car seat, savoring her lovely voice. “Just a college kid. It’s a real thin connection to the Fredrickson woman. I think your Uncle Ray has me riding pine here.”

“Clearing alibis, huh?”

“That’s it.”

“It’s important. Want to know why?” Sue Ellen said.

Oh great, Tony thought, now the cute DA chick is going to give me detective lessons too. Part of him was tired of everyone knowing more about his job than he did. Part of him was eager to learn.

“I think I do but why don’t you give me your take.” It came out snippy. Tony thought he might have to apologize but Sue Ellen breezed right over it.

“I’ve been with the DA’s office for almost five years now. We’ve had a lot of cases turn on fringe players. Not the cases where you’ve got eye wits and smoking guns. Cases like this one though…you need to go through all the motions. Just clear the guy and move on. If he doesn’t clear, you’ve got something to work with.”

“You know about this one?”

“Not really. Just office talk.”

Tony knew she was right. Still, she wasn’t the one that had been sitting in a car for three hours. His butt hurt, his neck hurt, and the pizza smell was driving him crazy. “Have you talked to Ray about it?”

“No. I’m not saying we’ve never bounced anything off of each other, but we try to avoid it. It’s one of our unwritten rules.”

“Probably smart.”

Her tone changed. Tony heard her voice shift into a serious mode. “I’m afraid I didn’t call just to talk, Tony.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten some threats.”

“Threats?” He almost made a joke about an old boyfriend.

“The Latin Kings.” That was the gang Tony had infiltrated the year before. Sue Ellen was the lead prosecutor. He was the star witness. His identity was a very closely held secret. “They’re letting the word get out that they’re coming after me and any of my assistants. They’re trying to get to you.”

Tony slammed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Shit!”

“People are getting nervous around here.” The Latin Kings weren’t afraid to use their guns to settle arguments. Tony knew this first hand. He’d been inside.

“What are you going to do?”

Sue Ellen sounded defiant when she answered. “Nothing, right now. The Gang Task Force is going to put some pressure on. They know these assholes. They’ll let ’em know this is not the way the game is played.”

“Did they target you specifically?” Tony needed details now.

“Yeah, they did.”

“How many people know my name?” Tony wasn’t asking because he was afraid of the gang bangers. He was worried about the clerks and assistants in the DA’s office that could get roughed up.

“It’s been held close.” Sue Ellen paused, thinking about who was in on it. “The judge of course. Reynard over at Narcotics. Your old partner, I assume, and my two assistants.”

“The defense doesn’t have it? What about the disclosure thing?” Prosecutors were supposed to share anything they got with the defense, and vice versa, Tony knew. He just couldn’t pull up the lawyer word.

“No name. Remember the deposition? The judge allowed it just because of this kind of thing.”

He did remember. He had been taped but his voice had been altered and his face obscured. It had been months ago. At the trial he would be live and in person but for now he was anonymous, or almost.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Nothing. Nothing different. I won’t let these assholes intimidate me. And I have Marco now.”

“Marco? Marc Giordano?” Tony relaxed some. Giordano was BCA, the state guys, Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. He was big and mean and one of the best shots Tony had ever seen. Marco cast a large dark shadow.

“My new best friend. You know him?”

“Just barely, but he’s good.”

“And big.”

“That too.” Tony, about to offer her more reassurance, was startled by a rapping on the window. He jerked his head and almost dropped the phone. His right hand instinctively reached for his gun.

“Christ!”

David Hong jumped back, startled by the outburst. Sue Ellen was yelling into the phone. Tony had to deal with the shot of adrenalin that had squirted into his system. He put a hand up toward Hong, signaling
wait a minute
. He reassured Sue Ellen that everything was okay and promised to call her later. Then he took a deep breath. He hadn’t seen Hong at all, concentrating on what Sue Ellen had been saying. He punched the button to unlock the passenger door. Hong stuck his head in the car, smiling.

“Sorry?” He looked a little embarrassed.

“I didn’t see you coming.”

The big Samoan kid draped an arm over the car door. “You’ve been out here a long time, man. Waiting on Sean?”

“How’d you guess?” So much for covert surveillance, Tony grumbled to himself.

“Want to wait inside?” Tony thought it over.
Why the hell not?
He followed Hong across the street.

“Does that pizza joint around the corner deliver?” he asked as they climbed the front porch stairs.

Tony hadn’t played any video games since he was in college and not much back then. He was impressed with the sophistication of the new games.
Halo
was a challenge. Hong was an expert with the controller. Tony suffered through an embarrassing learning curve but was finally getting the hang of it.

Swenson came home. He snagged some pizza and joined them on the sofa for another round. Tony had made himself at home. The boys were easy to talk to, witty and intelligent. Tony had tossed his sport jacket aside, the shoulder holstered Glock flapped under his arm as he leaned into the game, putting useless body-english into the electronic bullets. Tony felt a little guilty. This was not how a stakeout was supposed to go. He was having a pretty good time.

He’d talked to Ray. They were going to have a meeting, go over everything they had. Tony wanted to join them. Ray thought it best for Tony to stay on the stakeout, get the Stuckey kid off the list, that he had a good bit of time invested. Ray told him he hoped he’d be done with the kid tonight, to stick with it. Sure boss, Tony said, and went back inside to the game. He finally made the second level and was out for revenge.

The front door opened. Tony looked up to see a young man in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt wrestling with a backpack. Sean Stuckey. He was about 5’10”, not powerfully built, but not slight, either. Hong had been right. Sean was trying to grow some hair on his face and looked like the blond half of the white kids on campus.

Tony was concerned with the look on Stuckey’s face. His eyes had narrowed and there was a look of worry on it.

“Hey, Sean. This is Tony.” Swenson was grinning, having fun with his roommate’s confusion. He was used to the big guy with the matte black gun in a shoulder rig by now.

“Hey.” Stuckey tossed off an up-nod, trying to be cool. He was thinking of how to get out of there, Tony thought. He knew the look.

Tony retrieved his jacket and fished his gold badge out of the pocket. “I’m Detective de Luca, St. Paul Homicide. You’re Sean Stuckey, right?” He didn’t offer his hand. Stuckey’s eyes darted around the room. He was nervous. He’d been surprised—jumped. Tony wondered if the kid might bolt.

“Yeah. Oh shit! You’re the guy on the phone, right?” The look changed. Stuckey seemed more relaxed. Tony thought he was putting on a show.

“I left several messages.”

“Man, I was going to call, and then this shit happened.” Sean reached into the backpack. “I dropped the fucking phone and some dude ran over it with his bike.” He held up the busted phone. The screen was gone, just shards clinging to the rim, now, and it was bent. It was a goner.

“Looks fatal.” Tony nodded. If the kid was making up an excuse it was an expensive one. It was a nice phone.

“It bites, man. Three hundred bucks! And my whole fucking life is in there—my numbers.” Stuckey stuffed the debris back into the knapsack. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

Tony turned to the two guys on the couch. “Somewhere we can talk?” They both just smiled at him. They wanted to listen in.

“Privately?” Tony shot them a stern look, as if to say ‘game time’s over’.

“Let’s go in the kitchen.” Sean led the way. Tony noticed he threw a pissed-off glance at the two boys on the sofa. There didn’t seem to be any love lost between them. Sean maneuvered so that he was sitting directly across from Tony at the scarred wooden table.

Surprisingly, Stuckey fired the first shot. “This is about Scotty’s mom isn’t it?”

“Not unless there’s another crime you’re connected with I should know about.” Tony tried to keep it light. He thought he saw something. A hesitation? A hitch? Like Stuckey had tried to hide a thought and failed.

“What do you want to know?” The kid was all business now. Tony wondered if he’d been through this before.

“Where were you early Monday morning? Early like 6 to 10.”

“That’s easy. I spent the night with Angie and had a 9:00 class.” Tony made a note. Stuckey watched him closely.

“Angie?”

“This chick.”

“Angie have a last name?”

“Arkwright. You want her phone number, too? She’s pretty hot. We’re not like, exclusive.” Stuckey’s attitude took the first step toward wearing thin.

Tony flipped to a clean page and slid the notebook and his pen across the table. “And her address please.” Stuckey gave him a sullen look and started writing. “And while you’re at it, write down the class and the building and the professor’s name for the class.”

“For my alibi?”

“That’s right.” Tony folded his hands on the tabletop and watched Stuckey write, keeping his face neutral. When he was done, Sean slid the pad back…hard. It skidded off the table and onto the floor.