The Night Is Deep (A Liam Dempsey Thriller Book 2) (11 page)

“Kinda unlikely,” Tony said.

“It’s been done before,” Liam said, coming back to the present.

“Who do we have for next of kin?” Perring asked.

“Mr. Erickson’s mother, Stella. His father passed away a few years back. She lives on Park Point but word is she’s in the late stages of Alzheimer’s. Might not even realize what you’re telling her.”

“We’ll worry about that. I want you and Charlie to go through the rest of the neighborhood. Someone must have seen something, heard something. This guy’s not a ghost. Don’t call me until you have somebody that will give us a lead. And have Blair do a background check on Mr. Erickson. Send over his record, if he has one, when you get it.”

“Yes ma’am.” The officer gave them each a nod and left the room.

Perring moved across the kitchen and stared down at the cat. “I don’t want you to mention the number on Erickson’s chest to anyone else. And do not say anything about a connection between the cases, especially to Owen.” She glanced at him over her shoulder.

“I won’t.”

“Good. Now let’s go tell Mrs. Erickson that her son is dead.”

CHAPTER 10

They coasted down the winding hill from Erickson’s house into the gunmetal morning.

The sun was only a suggestion of light behind the thick cloud cover and the air was full of mist. It didn’t so much fall as spun and split around the vehicles, like a premature burial shroud, as they passed.

When Perring checked with Sanders, he told her there had been nothing new. Owen was still sleeping. Yes, he was fine taking care of things until they got back. As they drove, Liam studied the buildings that rose on either side of the car. Many of them were old, their brownstone sides weathered from countless winters. A large hospital loomed on their left, then receded into countless shops, restaurants, and bars, all of them sharing walls beside the cobbled street.

“Coldest October we’ve had in years,” Perring offered as she navigated through the city, ever downward toward the lake. “Snow’ll come early.”

“Think it will rain today?”

“Did you see the sunrise?”

“Red sky in morning.”

“Sailor’s warning.” She was silent for a time, the occasional shush of the windshield wipers the only sound. “I hate this.”

“Informing the family?”

“Yeah. How many times have you had to do it?”

“Too many.”

“Never gets easier does it?”

“No.”

“You remember your first?”

“We still talking about informing family?” He shot her a half smile and she chuckled. “Yeah. Can’t forget it. It was the worst one I’ve ever had to do.”

“I think everyone’s first is the worst one.”

“Mine was a nine-year-old boy who’d drowned in a river. I was twenty-two. It was my second day on the force.”

Perring glanced at him and then back at the road. “Damn.”

“Yeah. I’ve never forgotten the look on his mother’s face when she answered the door. He’d been missing for over a day and she knew, she knew as soon as she saw me coming up the walk. She kind of just fell against the wall inside the house and slid down like she’d been shot. I guess in a way she had been.”

They turned down a narrow street and crossed an intersection, splashing water from a puddle up onto the sidewalk.

“Mine was a middle-aged man. Fell down a flight of stairs in his house and no one found him for a week. Neighbor called in after the smell started to creep across into her yard. She thought it was his compost heap. She’d complained to the cops before about it. I had to call the guy’s daughter who lived in Wisconsin. I was shaking so bad and stuttering, I think she ended up consoling me more than I did her.”

Liam nodded. “I think that’s why a lot of cops are drinkers, or why a bunch of them eat a gun when they retire. You don’t slough those things off. They stay with you and compound over the years until you’re carrying around everyone else’s grief.” He glanced out the window. “Grief is heavy.”

“Yes it is.”

They hit the bottom of the street they were on and cruised up and over a small bridge that brought them to an intersection. Perring hung a left and they passed trinket shops and restaurants. To the right the harbor opened up revealing dozens of docked boats, their flagged tops bobbing and swaying. Ahead a looming skeletal structure grew up from the street. Its soaring interspersed steel girders were like dried bones of some prehistoric titan.

“I’ve seen this a few times from the highway but I’ve never been down to the lift bridge,” Liam said, leaning forward in his seat.

“It’s quite the tourist attraction,” Perring said. “It’s one of only a few left in operation.”

Liam kept looking up, trying to see the top of the structure as they passed onto it, but its peak was hidden in the folds of mist giving the bridge a ragged appearance as if it had been sheared off in the clouds. The steel grating hummed under the car, then they were on another narrow street, Superior’s waters expanding to either side.

“Park Point is pretty unique too,” Perring said. There was a hint of pride in her voice as she gestured to the homes they began to pass. “It’s basically built on a big sandbar but it’s almost like its own city. Residents are pretty insular, lots of old homes, old money.”

“Is this connected any other way than the lift bridge?”

“Nope. We call it getting ‘bridged’ if you get stuck on one side or the other. If it’s up, you can only get here by water or air.”

“Air?”

“There’s a little airport on the end.”

“You’re kidding.”

Perring shook her head. “Not too much traffic there, though. Local pilots, a few private flights, but that’s all.”

The road curved and Liam admired the stands of trees decorated with dripping leaves the color of fire between and around the homes. Perring slowed the vehicle and turned onto a small side street before angling into a driveway that ran parallel with the shore. They passed through a row of bushes several feet higher than the car and pulled to a stop in a cramped roundabout before a sprawling Tudor house. A white marble fountain in the shape of a cherub spit water in a silver stream in the center of the circular drive. Liam saw a curtain twitch in an upper floor window as they climbed from the car.

Perring rang the mother of pearl doorbell and they listened to a series of musical chimes sound deep inside the house, followed by footsteps. A middle-aged woman with a shock of dark hair plagued by gray roots opened the door.

“Yes?”

“Hello ma’am, I’m detective Denise Perring with the Duluth Police Department and this is Mr. Dempsey.” Perring unfolded her wallet to reveal her ID. “We’re here to speak with Mrs. Erickson. Is she home?”

“She is but may I ask what this is about?”

“I’m sorry but that’s a confidential matter we can only talk about with Mrs. Erickson.”

The woman put a hand to her throat in a self-calming gesture before stepping aside to let them enter.

They walked into a cathedral-like foyer lined with plush chairs and wide-leafed plants seated in brass pots. Before them a grand staircase swept upward and divided at a picture window that looked out onto the harbor side of the lake. Everything was burnished copper or stained mahogany. Liam wiped his shoes several times on the mat, eyeing the flawless shine of the floor.

“Mrs. Erickson is upstairs but I’m not sure that it’s such a good time to speak with her,” the woman said, stopping at the base of the stairway.

“Why’s that?” Perring asked.

“She suffers from fibromyalgia and severe arthritis as well as Alzheimer’s, and I’m afraid she’s not having a good day.”

“I’m sorry but we can’t wait to speak with her.”

The woman eyed them with resignation again. “Very well,” she said, and led them up the stairs. Liam gazed out the picture window as they passed it. The dreary haze took very little away from the grandeur of the view. Gentle waves lapped at a sand beach and a tall sailboat shifted on its mooring fifty yards away from a wide dock. The woman turned right at the split in the stairway and stopped before a door painted a flawless white. She knocked softly and a voice drifted from behind the door.

“Henry?”

“No Stella, it’s Avery. May I come in?”

“Oh. Of course, dear.”

Avery opened the door onto a massive bedroom with walls the color of coffee with cream. The floor was carpeted in white shag and a four-poster bed rested before a window that gave another expansive view of the lake. A woman sat in a wheelchair across the room, watching them from beneath feathery tufts of white hair. Her body was as twisted as an ancient oak branch, head tipped to the side and forward so that her eyes rolled up almost to the whites to follow them as they entered the room. Liam caught sight of two gnarled things that might have once been hands poking from the cuffs of her nightgown.

“Stella, there’s two visitors here to see you, okay?”

“Oh, that’s nice dear. You could bring us some tea if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Mrs. Erickson that’s okay,” Perring said. She turned to Avery. “It’s fine really, don’t bother.”

Avery nodded and headed toward the door. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

Perring waited until the sound of Avery’s footsteps faded. “Mrs. Erickson, my name is Denise Perring. I’m a detective with the police department.”

“Police department? Oh dear.”

“Yes. I am sorry to say I have some very bad news about your son, Dade.”

“Oh no. I think Henry should be here for this, don’t you think?”

“May I ask, who is Henry, ma’am?” Liam said.

“He’s my husband.” She bobbed a little in her chair, the awkward angle she sat at increasing.

“I see. Well, we’ve actually already informed him,” Perring said slowly.

“You have?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Was he down by his boat? He loves his boat. He’s always cleaning it and changing the rigging. I think we’ll go out later this afternoon if the weather lightens.”

“Yes. That sounds very nice. Now Mrs. Erickson, about what I have to tell you, it will be very shocking.”

“Oh dear. What is this about?”

“Your son, Dade.”

“Dade. He hasn’t gotten into trouble again has he? He and his two friends? Their names escape me now, the golden years haven’t been as kind to me as to Henry. His memory is like a steel trap but mine seems to get worse each day.” She tried to straighten herself but only slid sideways a bit, her clawed fingers groping at the chair’s armrests.

“Yes, like I was saying, ma’am, please brace yourself. I’m very sorry to say that your son was the victim of a home invasion last night. He passed away sometime this morning.”

Liam watched the old woman sway forward again and blink, her eyelids so thin and veined that he imagined she could see through them. Her lower lip began to tremble and it appeared as if she were going to try to stand. He stepped forward and bent one knee, coming closer to her level to put a hand on her forearm. Her liver-spotted skin had a dried papery feel and it was chilled, like she had already left her body behind and it was cooling. There was a smell about her. Something that reminded him of the weather outside. It was the odor of softly decaying leaves.

“Mrs. Erickson? Did you understand what Detective Perring told you?”

Stella’s eyelids fluttered and she focused on him as if seeing him for the first time. “I need to get my pills. I haven’t had them yet today. Henry’s out on the boat with our son. Maybe you can speak to him when he comes in. They should be back anytime now. I hope he’s not in trouble again.”

“Mrs. Erickson—” Perring began, but Liam shook his head slightly.

“What type of trouble was he in before?” Liam asked.

“Oh he and his friends got up to mischief. That was all. Boys being boys.”

“What did they do?”

“I’m not sure they did anything. It was all hearsay. Someone accused my Dade of beating up that black boy after the Webb girl died.” The old woman shook as she tried to raise her head higher. “But he didn’t. He’s a good boy, my son. Always helping. He’s going to be a lawyer, you know.”

Liam held her wavering gaze. “You must be very proud.”

She smiled revealing a set of flawless false teeth. “Yes, I am.”

Liam nodded. “We’re going to leave you be now, ma’am. You have a lovely afternoon, okay?”

“Of course. Henry’s going to take me out sailing later. If the weather lightens that is.”

Stella blinked rapidly, then managed to get her hands on the controls of her wheelchair. She maneuvered it around so that she could look out the window at the lake, then fell still as if dropping into a slumber. Liam and Perring went out into the hall, stopping once the door was shut behind them.

“God, she has no idea what we just told her,” Perring said.

“I think somewhere it registered but she won’t realize it until later.” Liam put one hand against the wall and stared at the floor before bringing his eyes up to Perring’s. “Did you catch all that?”

“About Dade assaulting Dickson Jenner. Yes, I did.”

“Did you know about it?”

“No. This is the first I’ve heard.”

Liam opened his mouth but closed it as Avery appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Are you finished? Is she all right?”

“Yes, I think she’s fine but I’d like to ask you who her power of attorney is,” Perring said.

“Well it’s her son, Dade.”

“And if something were to happen to Dade? Who would the responsibility default to?”

“To me. Why?” Avery shifted from foot to foot as if the floor were too hot to stand on.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this Mrs. . . .”

“Lott, Avery Lott.”

“Mrs. Lott. It will come as a shock to you but Dade was killed in a home invasion last night.”

Avery’s hand went to her throat. “Oh no! Are you sure?”

“Unfortunately yes. If I might ask you a few questions?”

The other woman looked shell-shocked, her jaw trembling. “Of course.”

“Are you a family member or just a caretaker?”

“I’m, well, my mother was best friends with Stella before she died. After she passed away and Stella’s health declined, I started providing home care for her. I’ve known the family for years.” A tear broke free of the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Perring said. “We won’t take up much more of your time. Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Dade in any way? Someone he’d had a falling out with through business or otherwise?”

“No, not at all. He was always so kind. He’d come to see his mother every other day. It always brightened her up so much when he’d stop by.” Avery’s face crumpled and she began to cry in earnest. “This is going to be so hard on her.”

Perring nodded. “Anything else you can think of that may help us? Anything Dade said in the past weeks that was odd or unsettling to you?”

“No. Not that I can think of.”

“Was he very close with anyone? A girlfriend or fiancée?”

“No. He always said he never wanted to get married. ‘Being tied down,’ he called it. No, he had his work, a few friends, and he loved to sail but that was it.”

“Thank you Mrs. Lott. We’ll be in touch as soon as we have more information. If you think of anything, please feel free to give me a call directly.” Perring handed the crying woman a business card.

Avery began to follow them down the stairs but Liam turned and tipped his head toward Stella’s room. “We can see ourselves out. Go ahead and check on her.” She gave him a grateful smile and wiped at her face as she made her way back toward the room.