Rejection: Publishing Murder Mystery (Lou Drake Mysteries) (23 page)

* * *

Chief Smythe sat in his office and stared at his computer screen. For the past two days he had been using his spare time to read through the entire database on the Hennings case. It took him back to the time immediately following the murder, when the local papers had trumpeted the accusations on the front page. Speculation had flown like a flock of angry crows, flapping and calling out abrasive rumor. Smythe was working as captain of vice at the time. He’d been convinced Hennings was a killer. He could barely stomach it when the case was dropped and Hennings gave a press conference, his practiced sadness edged with arrogant satisfaction.

One thing stood out as Smythe reviewed the testimony transcripts from the internal investigation. Detective Thibido’s statements seemed practiced. Smythe knew Thibido well enough to know he never used the words in his testimony, let alone knew what they meant. And Smythe couldn’t get past the all-too-convenient confession and suicide by the petty crook that ended it all. The whole affair stank, so Smythe was biding his time waiting for somebody, anybody to slip and expose the truth.

He almost prayed that his suspicion about a conspiracy was simply paranoia. Scandal was never easy. The revelation of dirty cops fueled public hostility, which was inevitably followed by a rallying outcry that diminished the power of the law. Many other cities had worse police corruption, but the Big Apple seemed to attract the most attention.

To Smythe the agent murders seemed like a catalyst to bring the Hennings mess back into focus. The mayor screamed behind closed doors, demanding progress and reminding Smythe that the finest police force on the planet was being made to look ridiculous by a rogue writer of all things.

“And not a very good writer at that!” The Mayor raged. “I read the fucking pages he left behind. The guys a hack, but apparently he’s good enough to stay ahead of New York’s Finest.”

Another sigh. Smythe gave his phone a dirty look as it beeped and his secretary chimed through.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Prichard is on line one.”

“Thanks.” And then, “Yes doctor.”

“I thought you’d want to be the first to know. We have another victim. Another agent.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Name is George Hammerstein, 1475 Cove Drive. It’s bad.”

“Be right there.”

An hour later Smythe’s car pulled up to Cove Drive. Cruisers were everywhere. Smythe saw Michael Collins on his cell phone with one finger pushed into his other ear. Gray afternoon sky gave a pewter cast to the scene and the temperature had dropped enough to show Collins’ breath as he spoke. Smythe joined him on the curb as he terminated his call.

“What do we have Detective?”

“This is the most bizarre scene yet,” Collins said.

Cove Drive was lined with small rental cottages that were once summer homes for the middle class from New York City. The house at number 1475 was covered in shingles and stood beneath ancient trees. It had once been a charming two-bedroom hideaway. Now it was a run-down shack that looked like an old woman whose makeup had cracked.

An older Buick was parked to the side and covered with fallen leaves. Uniformed officers stepped aside as Collins led Smythe through the shabby entry into the back bedroom.

“Careful of the dog shit,” Collins warned. “He was found when his neighbor complained about the dog howling,”

George Hammerstein lay on his back on the bed, his eyes open and his mouth gaped. A complicated mesh of knotted yellow rope anchored his arms, torso and legs to a wall radiator. A pulley system was attached to the doorframe of the decaying bathroom opposite the radiator. The yellow nylon rope around the victim’s neck was taut. Hammerstein’s throat was cut to the bone and the pulley contraption had pulled the vertebrae apart, elongating the dead man’s neck by several inches. The mattress was soaked with blood and the rope was splattered red.

“I get it,” Smythe said.

“As explained by this.”

Collins handed the Chief a printed page that described the murder.

“This time,” Collins said, “the paper was left beside the body.”

“How long has he been dead, do you think?”

“Few days probably.”

Smythe and Collins stepped aside to let Prichard by. His team began to map the scene. Smythe gestured for Collins to follow him outside. Smythe held up his opened hand.

“This is number five.”

“Yes sir. The page is numbered 314, and most crime novels are between 300 and 450 pages. So, unless this is some insane, ongoing epic with no ending, the story could be close to the climax.”

“Let’s hope so.”

* * *

Andrade sat in his living room and stared at the dark big-screen TV. He had called in sick that morning, unable to face going into the station. He felt like the place was no longer his. Not that Chief Smythe or anyone else had relieved him of it, not exactly.

His mind seethed as he fidgeted with the redial button on his cell phone. He had called Collins back dozens of times last night after the bastard had hung up on him, but the prick had yet to return his calls.

It had to be Collins who had talked to Kathy. Only two people knew enough to be truly dangerous: Collins and Thibido. Thibido was too dumb and too frightened of Andrade to betray the secrets, so it had to be Collins. And if Collins betrayed him it meant he was driven by a force above Andrade. Could he have made a deal with someone like Smythe?

What was it Kathy had said?

Make sure you don’t drag me into your mess.

That about summed it up. What a mess.

His face red with fear and fury, Andrade jumped when his cell rang.

“Where are you?” Collins said. “We’ve got a bloody mess on Cove Drive, victim number five. This is as bad as the spine shit but with a freaky new twist.”

Collins’ voice held the same professional intensity he always shared with Andrade. When Andrade didn’t answer, Collins said, “You there, John?”

“Yeah. What’s the story?”

“Neighbor called. Uniforms showed up and found a horror show. Same as before, only with a Frankenstein twist. I’m pulling out of here and heading back to the station.”

Andrade sighed. This didn’t change anything as far as he was concerned.

“Why’d you hang up on me last night?”

“Jesus, are you kidding me? I’ve got more important things to worry about right now.”

“I bet you do,” Andrade said.

He clicked off the phone and went back to staring at his TV.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
O
NE

ROBIN WAS FRESH out of the shower when she heard her roommate Helen answer the phone. Robin could tell it was Drake because Helen’s voice was as cold as ice. This was not the first time Helen had fielded a call from Drake. She kept telling him Robin wasn’t home, even if she was sitting six feet away. Robin felt a pang of guilt every time.

Helen had listened with shocked amazement when Robin told her what happened at the restaurant. Then the two of them had an estrogen-laden rant session, both swearing all men were insensitive assholes.

For days Robin ignored Drake’s calls and swore it was finally over. His gestures were pathetic, Helen said, and Robin agreed with her.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Helen was saying now. “Besides, she’s on a date and I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

Drake must have said Okay because Helen went off on him.

“That’s it? Okay? Jesus Drake, you really are pathetic. I just told you she was out on a date and all you say is Okay?”

Robin knew Drake had to be hurting.

“I’ll tell her.”

Robin grabbed the phone away. This was just too cruel.

“Wait, no, I’m here Lou. That was mean and I’m sorry I let her do that to you, but I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Just listen,” he said. “Can we get together? I want to talk and clear the air. Then you can do whatever you want and I’ll go along with it.”

“Fine. But I have something to say now. In one of your many messages you said you were only trying to help me see I could be what I once was, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Why in God’s great Earth would I want to be what I was before? I may have been thinner, but I was a neurotic, screwed-up girl. I had no idea what to do with my life. You have to look ahead Lou. You want to lose weight? That’s fine, but I’m not looking back. If that’s where you want to go, it’s a trip you take alone. Can you understand that?”

“Yes I can,” he said.

“Okay then. Meet me at Molly’s tomorrow at one.”

“I’ll be there.”

The next day Robin arrived ten minutes early. Drake was already seated by the window. He wore his best clothes and looked good, less dark around the eyes. His weight loss showed in the way his coat fell off his shoulders. She could not help but smile as she took her seat across form him.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, “You want to order something?”

“Lou, I didn’t come here to have lunch and make small talk. I chose here because it was easy for both of us. What do you want to say to me?”

It hurt her to shut him down like that and she struggled with conflicting emotions. The waitress knew something serious was happening at table twelve and left the couple alone.

“Listen Rob, I had time to sit back and look at myself and I didn’t like what I saw. I finally took some positive action and when I saw it working I got big headed. Suddenly my shit didn’t stink and I became like every other former lost cause that suddenly made a difference. I got arrogant, and I am so sorry.”

“Okay, but it’s more than that.”

“Yes it is, so much more. Robin, I love you so much. I know I’ve been selfish and wallowing in my own self-pity and sometimes I wondered how you put up with me, but you never gave up on me.”

“Look, I don’t—”

“Please, let me finish and then you can say whatever you need to. If I don’t get this out now I never will. Okay?”

Robin leaned back in her chair. “Go ahead.”

“Now that I see how much I appreciate you, it would kill me if I couldn’t spend my time proving it to you. Please Rob, can you find it in your heart to give this pathetic, love sick man the chance to prove his love? Just one more chance?”

“I appreciate all that, but Lou, we’ve been doing this strange dance for years. I’m afraid the song will never change. I have to look out for my own peace of mind and make plans for the future.”

“I agree,” Drake said, “and I thought about what you said about not looking back. You’re completely right.”

“I don’t know, Lou,” she whispered.

Her anger evaporated and her heart suddenly ached for him, begged her to trust though her head knew not to. She thought of the night the widow shattered and how he came to her rescue.

“Could we go for a walk?” he said. “There’s something I really want to ask but it’s kind of crowded in here.”

“Lou, it’s freezing out there and I don’t want to draw this out more than we have to. Whatever you have to ask me, just do it here.”

“All right,” Drake said.

He surprised her by getting down on one knee beside the table. He pulled a small velvet box from his jacket pocket, opened it and presented her with the ring. Robin’s breath caught in her throat and the air in the room disappeared.

“Robin, I want to take this dance to a wonderful new level. I don’t want to look back at what was, but to the future where we can be happy together. If you say no, well, I’ll wish you well and leave you alone. But I want you to know that I’m serious. I want to spend my life making you happy. Robin Sarah Bradley, I ask you with a hopeful and grateful heart to be my wife.”

“Oh shit,” she said. She could feel tears welling at the corners of her eyes.

Drake raised his eyebrows.

“My God,” a woman said at the next table. “Honey, aren’t you going to answer him?”

Robin gave Drake a hard stare. This didn’t feel to her like an act of desperation or a ploy. Drake was on one knee and his eyes were clear. His face was placid and she knew if she said no he would, indeed, wish her well and move on with his life.

Her heart softened. She looked at the other diners nearby, each one frozen in place, waiting to see what would happen.

Isn’t this what she always wanted?

“What’s she going to say?” a young girl asked her mother in a hushed voice.

Her mother shushed her, but couldn’t help grinning and looking back at Robin.

“Yes,” Robin said. “Yes, oh yes.”

“I love you,” Drake said.

Robin nearly knocked the table over to kiss him.

He slipped the ring on her finger as the restaurant erupted in applause and whistles. Drake ordered a bottle of champagne and the crowd joined in the celebration.

Afterward they rushed home to Drake’s place where they tore at their clothes and fell together on the bed. Robin wrapped her arms around Drake and felt truly loved. They urged each other to fulfillment and Robin rolled on top of him to push herself to climax. Her orgasm was a body-shuddering release.

Then she collapsed on Drake’s chest and lost herself in complete satisfaction. As she caught her breath she drew her left hand close to her face and watched the light reflect off the diamond.