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Authors: Don Easton

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Loose Ends (24 page)

BOOK: Loose Ends
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Jack yawned, then said, “Got me once, but it ricocheted off my back and through my arm. Rolly slashed my back with a knife. It did more damage than the bullet did.”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, I guess a .22 is okay if you got it stuck in someone's ear or the base of their neck, but I figure if they'd been usin' a 9 mm, you wouldn't have been so lucky.”

“Yeah, you're probably right. See you around.”

Lance sat and stared at the broken picture after Jack and Danny had left. He thought about Jack's response to his last question.
Tough motherfucker. Seems to tell it straight.
For a moment it made him feel safer, then a wave of fear and shame overtook his brain.

Danny waited until they were in the car before turning to Jack. “You did it! Just like you said you would. You got somebody on the inside!”

“We did it. The two of us.”

“So, the guy they call The Suit has to be the one who molested Marcie.”

Jack nodded.

“And now we know who murdered Crystal! Let's haul their asses in! Maybe Homicide can match something from the bomb on Crystal's car to Nails' and Axle's houses.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I gave Lance my word. Arresting them would jeopardize his position.”

“Busting Axle and Nails is more important than worrying about that piece of shit!”

Jack looked sharply at Danny. “Always keep your word!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? They murdered Crystal! You were there! Did you see her eyes? She was —”

“I was there.”

Danny drove the car out of the lot before saying, “You're waiting to get information about Maggie and Ben Junior, aren't you? That makes sense, except Lance doesn't know anything about that, so let's arrest Axle and Nails. Maybe they do! One of them might talk!”

“I gave Lance my word.”

“This is bullshit! I don't believe you!”

“You better believe me, because it's true. It's about respect.”

“You're telling me that you respect that asshole sitting in there!”

“It's about us having respect, not him. And actually, yes, I do respect him.”

Danny's face reddened. His nostrils flared and his lips curled down, exposing his teeth. “He's a sleaze-bag! Kept referring to Crystal a whore! How can you respect him?”

“In Lance's world you use derogatory names. If you dehumanize them, it's easier on your conscience. What was he supposed to refer to her as? The young woman who was being sexually victimized?”

“Crystal was a good person.”

“I know she was. I respect her for what she tried to do.”

“But Lance is nothing but scum!”

“How would you respond if someone shoved a shotgun into your nuts? Would you have the guts to stare them in the eye and refuse to talk? Think about it! He expected to die! No whimpering, no pleading. The only reason he did cooperate was to protect his family. Yes, I have some respect for him too.”

“He tried to kill you!”

“Hey! I respect that he's dangerous! He could still flip back to the other side. Which is why I didn't give him your name or cell number.”

“Why not?”

“You have a family to look after. As I said, I respect the fact that he's dangerous.”

“That's bullshit! I'm your partner. Susan knows the risks. She married me —”

“That doesn't mean
you
have to take risks if you don't need to.”

Danny shook his head. “I guess it doesn't really matter. If you're not going to do anything, then we're no further ahead. Not when it comes to your sister's kids.”

“We're a lot further ahead. This is the first phase in gaining control.”

Danny drove another two blocks, then said, “So now what do you propose we do?”

“Keep quiet about Axle and Nails. Verify what we can about what Lance told us, then concentrate on Wizard and Rolly. They were involved in the original speed connection. Find out if they have contacts up the Valley and find out who the leak is.”

“How? Lance didn't know of any —”

“They're leaving on a ride this Friday. Search their places. Maybe turn up an address book or phone numbers.”

“You figure we have enough to get search warrants?”

“No. Even if we did, we don't know who the leak is. I'm not jeopardizing Lance. Speaking of which, from now on, we don't use his name. No slip-ups — anywhere!”

“What do you plan on calling him?”

“Just refer to him as our friend.”


Your
friend, maybe, not mine. And now you're talking about doing illegal searches.”

“Damn it, Danny! Do I have to spell everything out? You sound like you're wearing a wire and working for Internal, for God's sake.”

Danny squirmed in his seat and glanced out his side window.

“I appreciate that you have a family,” continued Jack. “I'll understand if you don't want to take risks. If you want to work on something else, talk with Louie
and get reassigned. But make a decision. I need someone I can trust and depend on.”

“With what we've been through, don't you feel you can trust me yet?”

Jack looked at Danny and sighed. “I'm sorry. I owe you my life. I know I can trust you. But you do have Susan and Tiffany to think about. I've done enough searches in my life; I don't really need you to come along.”

“Yeah, right. In the space of a month, my hand was slashed with a knife and I stabbed a junkie in the back. You've been shot and stabbed. Lenny, Crystal, and Red murdered…”

“It does sound like we could be on to something.”

“It's not funny! I'm waking up at night seeing Crystal's eyes, asking why I got her killed.”

“You see what you want. I see her eyes, too. I see her asking for justice.”

“Whatever! But that's what I see and I'm not bailing out now! I may not agree with you, but I'm still your partner.”

“Glad you feel that way. There is something else.” Jack paused as the memories of an abandoned farmhouse interrupted his thoughts.

“Something else?”

Jack swallowed, then said, “The last thing Maggie did before she was murdered was print the word
Dirty
in her sketchbook. Tomorrow night I'm going to take a look at Popeye's. See if there is any record of who has the Dirty Dog tattoo or when they got it.”

“You think she saw that word tattooed on someone?”

“It's possible.”

Danny shook his head, then mumbled, “What the hell. After what's happened so far, what are a few break-ins going to matter. Speaking of which, how do you plan on getting in?”

Jack took a leather case out of his jacket pocket and flashed Danny an array of lock picks.

“Where did you get those? Do you know how to use them?”

Jack smiled, then said, “Some locksmith must have dropped them. Yes, I know how to use them. Believe me, with
my
new friend helping, nothing will stop us. It's just a matter of time. I'm also going to revive Eddy Trimble and give the City narcs a present.”

“Bart and Rex?”

“Can't use our narcs. We're only doing surveillance, remember?”

“What if one of them is the leak?”


My
friend didn't think he would draw any heat if it was taken down. If it was one of the narcs, they wouldn't have turned me into an informant in the first place. I trust them. Wish I could say the same for the rest of their office — or our own people.”

“Enough emphasis on
my
friend already! I'm your partner. He can be
our
friend.”

“Good. Welcome aboard. Hope you enjoy the ride!”

An hour later, Danny arrived home in time to pick up his telephone. He recognized the harsh voice immediately.

“This is Superintendent Wigmore. Meet me at the Oceanside Lounge. Immediately!”

chapter twenty-four

Danny spotted Wigmore sitting alone in the lounge. Wigmore scowled at him and nodded toward a chair. Danny sat down as the waiter approached the table.

“Bring me another Glennfiddich on the rocks,” commanded Wigmore. “This time, bring the Scotch on the side.” He gestured toward Danny and said, “Nothing for him; he won't be staying.”

Wigmore waited until the waiter left, then said, “Tell me, O'Reilly, why do men pay prostitutes money?”

“Sir?”

“A simple question.” Wigmore's voice became sarcastic. “Surely you've been a policeman long enough to have heard about prostitutes.”

“Men pay prostitutes money in exchange for sex,” said Danny.

“Any other reasons?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Do you think it conceivable that a man who has engaged a prostitute would murder her if she was perhaps going to spill the beans on him, so to speak?”

“Yes, sir. I guess that is conceivable.”

Wigmore stared smugly at Danny while the waiter returned with his order.

“Ice in your glass, with the Scotch on the side,” said the waiter, somewhat contemptuously.

Wigmore waited until the waiter left before continuing. “So, O'Reilly, you've answered why you paid a prostitute — Miss Doyle — money.”

Danny was shocked. “I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know any Miss Doyle!”

“Come come now, O'Reilly. You paid Miss Christine Doyle's bill for her at a garage. With the tow bill it came to over $800.”

“Crystal! I didn't know her real —”

“Oh, of course. You would have known her by the name she uses for customers.”

“I wasn't a customer!” The edge to Danny's voice revealed his anger.

“We've got your credit card receipt! An auto mechanic identified your photo as being the man who paid her bill! He also saw you and a woman hugging her in the garage parking lot.”

“That woman was my wife.”

“I see. You and your wife are into … group activities, are you?”

Danny seethed with anger. He opened and closed his fists under the table to control his rage. “We were simply helping her out! Her car broke down. She needed help!”

“Forget the charade, O'Reilly! Homicide traced the cell number! You just told me you couldn't think of any reason a man would pay a prostitute except for
sex. She was talking to you on the phone the next day when she was murdered! What have you got to say about that? It appears to me that you may have been involved in her murder!”

Danny fought to keep his composure.
This son of bitch wouldn't have called me here if he really believed what he was saying.
Danny glared at Wigmore and said, “Right! Let's forget the charade! What do you really want?”

“Don't get snarky with me, O'Reilly! I know Taggart is involved! I warned you before about him! People dying around him is nothing new. Think about it! Since you've been his partner, there was this Leonard character in the back alley. Now a hooker is murdered while talking to you, and you not only don't inform me, you also don't report it to Homicide!”

Danny started to protest, but Wigmore held up his hand to silence him, then continued, “Just for argument's sake, even if you did help this hooker with her car and happened to introduce her to your wife, it's against policy. However, as a police officer, not reporting what you know to Homicide is obstruction of justice! And that's a criminal matter! You're already in trouble for neglect of duty in regards to the PM. Now this!”

“I — I didn't report it because I just thought the phone went dead. She just phoned to say goodbye. I thought she was moving back east.”

Wigmore shook his head. “Get it through your skull, O'Reilly. I warned you not to get sucked into Taggart's world. I even understand that you're scared and that's why you just lied to me. It's Taggart I want, but if you continue to act dumb and not cooperate, then you'll both end up in the same cell.”

“It's not that I'm not cooperating, it's just that he isn't doing anything wrong.”

Wigmore chuckled, shaking his head, then said, “So there would be no problem with me scheduling you to take the polygraph? Start off with about a dozen questions concerning policy matters, then look at criminal matters. Questions like: did you intentionally hinder the investigation into Christine Doyle's murder?”

Wigmore picked up on the look of fear on Danny's face.
Or is it guilt?
It triggered a response like a shark to blood. He leaned across the table until his breath was in Danny's face. “Perhaps question if your actions contributed to her murder?”

Danny stared back at Wigmore. He didn't know how to respond. He wondered what he would say to Susan.

Wigmore leaned back in his chair. He had made his point. “I'll be out of town for the next two days. I expect to hear from you on Monday. With the weekend, that gives you four days to think about it. By then, if you decide not to spill the beans, I'll demand a full Internal. Starting with slapping you on the polygraph!”

It was noon when Danny walked into the office. Jack was already there, and by the amount of paper piled up, he had been at work for a while. Danny plunked himself down.

Jack looked at him and asked, “What's wrong? You look like you've been up all night.”

“Nothing's wrong.”

“If you're that upset about these searches, I told you, I'll do them myself!”

“I'm just tired. A lot happened last night for me to think about.”

“It was a good night. I've got more good news. I found a report from Vancouver City on Asian
gangs. Two Vietnamese brothers who were controlling speed distribution in Chinatown, as well the west side, disappeared last year around the May long weekend, leaving their cars, money, and homes untouched.”

“It looks like our friend is telling the truth.”

“I think we can chalk them up as crab bait. I also wandered into Popeye's this morning. No sign of an alarm system. We'll do it tonight and Rolly and Wizard's places tomorrow night. Go in a couple hours after midnight. Shouldn't be anyone around.”

BOOK: Loose Ends
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