Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 01 - Murder Off the Books (9 page)

“He’s running because he’s scared,” Rachel whispered, biting her lip as she saw the flashing lights of the patrol cars encircling the gym entrance. “Danny always runs when he’s scared….”

Chapter
11

“She looks more stunned than scared,” Greeley observed, casually turning his head to observe the woman sitting in the patrol car. “She in it with her brother?”

“Nah. I doubt it… Maybe.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the muscle that had knotted up sometime between hearing Rachel’s scream upon discovering the body and the instant the back window of Jeff O’Herlihy’s junker cab had shattered. “I’m not sure about Thayer yet, but I doubt Rachel’s involved.”

“Rachel, is it now?” Greeley chuckled. “Watch it that you don’t lose your perspective. You of all people should know better than to underestimate the female sex.”

Mac glared at him. “I didn’t–”

Greeley frowned and waved his cigar at the other man. “Forget I said that. Hawkins made his own choices. It’s history. Just be careful that history doesn’t repeat itself. “

The private investigator nodded, his anger fading as quickly as it had come. He had no intention of reliving the past. He’d paid enough for that mistake. His partner had paid more.

Mac’s cell phone rang. He gave Greeley an apologetic look as he pulled it out of his jacket pocket. “Sullivan.”

Greeley
chewed on his cigar and blatantly listened to Mac’s side of the conversation.

“No. I haven’t found him yet, although there have been some developments.” Mac glanced towards the police car and then back at
Greeley. He lowered his voice. “Ray, everything is fine. But I am going to have to talk to you about something. I’ve got another client and your interests may conflict.”

Mac listened for a second. “I don’t have time to get into it now. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Greeley narrowed his eyes, continuing to listen.

Mac shrugged, speaking briskly into the phone. “Okay. I’ll talk to him too. Later. Right now, I’ve got to go.”

Mac flipped the phone closed and slid it into his pocket.

Greeley
raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask about the call. “Back to Mrs. Brenner–why was she here? Was she meeting her brother?”

Mac shrugged. “Rachel–uh Mrs. Brenner–told me she was meeting some woman who called her and claimed to have information that would clear her brother.”

Greeley paused a moment, then said, “You know Thayer could have killed Lopez, then shot out your back window for show–thinking we wouldn’t believe that he’d take a shot at his sister.”

“I considered that. But my gut tells me Rachel isn’t lying about Lopez’s call. And if it was Thayer doing the shooting, his sister doesn’t know it.”

At Greeley’s skeptical look, Mac added, “You can check Rachel’s phone records easily enough; verify that Lopez made the call to her.”

“Speaking of phone records, Lopez was talking on her cell phone to her daughter when she was shot.”

“So you know the time of death.” Mac glanced over at Rachel who was calmly ignoring Eddie Gorden’s attempts to rile her.

“Just minutes before you called us.”
Greeley shifted his feet, his trademark cowboy boots offering him little cushion from the hard pavement. “Did you get a look at the plates?”

Mac shook his head.

Greeley looked him up and down. “Losing your touch, old man? Guess civilian life has slowed you down.”

“I had a little trouble with my passenger and the junker I was driving,” Mac grumbled. “Don’t count me out yet. I haven’t lost anything but maybe my sense of humor.”

“Yeah, well your sense of humor was kinda twisted. Nobody’s gonna miss that.” Greeley stuck his cigar back in his mouth and gave the other man a tight smile. “Why don’t you take ‘Rachel’ home now? See if she’ll tell you where her brother is hiding out and then give us a call.”

“I don’t think she knows where he is,” Mac mused, walking away. “But he’ll be in touch sooner or later.”

“Sooner would be better,” Greeley shouted after him. “Too many people near Thayer are getting killed.”

Mac watched Rachel’s face blanch as the lieutenant’s words reached her.

***

She found it oddly soothing, running her fingers through the long hair of the hound that was stretched out across the front seat, hindquarters on Rachel’s lap, majestic head on her owner’s thigh. “I should have taken a cab,” Rachel muttered.

“This is a cab,” Mac said with a small smile hovering at his lips. He pulled out of the campus gates and headed for Rittenhouse Street.

“No. A real cab with a rear window that isn’t in shards driven by a real cabbie who wasn’t trying to convict my brother of murder,” she said indignantly.

“I’m not trying to pin a murder rap on anyone. I don’t even care who killed Malwick and Lopez,” Mac interjected.

Then in response to her disapproving expression, he added, “Well, I care but solving the murders isn’t my responsibility. My job is to find out who embezzled a half million dollars from Concordia.”

“Dan didn’t do that either!”

Mac gave her a sideways glance as he slowed for a traffic light. “Look, maybe your brother didn’t kill anybody. Maybe he just took the money. If that’s the case, he better turn himself in now, before he gets stuck with a couple of first degree murder charges. With a good lawyer, he could be out in under five if he makes restitution on the money.”

“Dan didn’t steal the money.”

“How do you know that?” Mac pushed. “He’s been spending money like a kid with a free pass in the video arcade.”

“That’s not Dan,” Rachel insisted. “He lives in a crummy apartment in a crappy neighborhood. He buys his clothes at the Salvation Army, salvages furniture from the dump. He’s like the last living hippie.”

“So why did he just buy a brand new Jeep?”

“What? He’d never buy a new car. He’d never buy a ‘new’ anything.”

“I saw the receipt. $35,000 and change. He’s supposed to pick it up next week.”

“That just doesn’t make sense. Maybe whoever is setting up Dan….” Her hand went to her left wrist, her fingers tracing the gold bangle that Dan had sent her a month ago for her birthday. She knew it was expensive and had tried to refuse it, but he’d had her name engraved on the inside.

Mac’s eyes followed her hand’s movements. “I showed his photo to the manager of the car dealership. It was definitely your brother who purchased the car.”

“I-I don’t know what it means,” Rachel stammered, pulling her sleeve down over her bracelet.

“He also bought two tickets for a week long
Caribbean cruise.”

“Dan? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“The travel agent confirmed the purchase,” Mac said softly. “Maybe you don’t know your brother as well as you think.”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Rachel whispered to herself.

“Does your brother know how strapped you are for cash?”

“I beg your pardon,” Rachel snapped.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but did your brother know that you lost your job. That you were draining your retirement fund to pay for your son’s tuition and that your house is mortgaged to the limit?”

“How dare you,” she sputtered. “I have a job and the rest is none of your business.”

Mac turned onto Rittenhouse Street and stopped the cab in front of the small brick house.

“Look, I confess that I ran a quick background check on you to see if you were part of the embezzlement scheme. Clearly you’re not. You applied to refinance your second mortgage a week ago.”

“I can’t believe you have access to my finances. Is there nothing private?”

“Not much,” Mac answered. “But the question is, did your brother know?”

“Absolutely not.”

Mac pushed. “If your brother knew that you needed money to put your son through college, don’t you think he’d do whatever he had to do to help?”

“He’d never kill anyone,” Rachel whispered, her fists in a tight knot, her fair complexion suddenly stark white.

“But would he steal to help?” Mac pushed. “Maybe things just got out of hand. He didn’t set out to hurt anyone. Maybe he thought that the college would never miss the money. Maybe he planned to pay it back.”

“No! Dan would never do that…besides he didn’t know….” Her voice softened. “He thought that Charlie–that’s my ex-husband–that Charlie was paying Sam’s tuition. He’s…he’s supposed to–I mean it was in the divorce agreement, but….”

“Look, the evidence is piling up fast against Dan Thayer. A half million dollars is missing. Two people are dead. Your brother had access and motive, plus he didn’t stick around to defend himself.”

Rachel sighed and looked down at the dog who was once again settled comfortably on her lap. “I’d run too if someone was trying to blame all that on me. Have you even considered that my brother is being framed? That he didn’t do any of it?”

Mac calmly leaned back against the headrest. “My investigation has told me one story about Dan Thayer, and it doesn’t have a happy ending. Why don’t you tell me another story–the one about the Dan Thayer that you know. I’m ready to listen. You’ve heard from him, haven’t you?”

Rachel hesitated a moment, then nodded. “He e-mailed me on Monday afternoon. Told me that I shouldn’t believe what I heard about him. It was from an e-mail account I’d never seen before.”

“How can you be sure it was really from your brother?”

“He made a reference to his favorite Roy Rogers boots,” she said with a small smile. “Dan wore them for a whole year when he was five–even after they got too small. Grandpa finally threw them away to keep Dan from crippling himself. I don’t think anyone else alive knows about them.”

“Did he ever talk to you about his work at Concordia?”

Rachel shook her head no. “I mean he told me his title and a general idea of his responsibilities when he took the job, but we never really talked about it.”

Mac thought for a moment before asking. “What did he think of his co-workers?”

“I think he mentioned someone named Jack once. When we’d talk, it was about other stuff.” Rachel paused, then added, “I’d… I’d gone through a divorce, so mostly we’d talk about Sam. Dan wanted to help with him.”

“If you hear from your brother again, have him contact me,” he said, turning off the ignition. “Here’s my card.”

She reluctantly took it, then reached for the door handle, her hand finding the empty space where the handle used to be. She turned her head and glared at him.

“Got to get that fixed.” Mac chuckled and opened his door, stepping outside. He motioned for her to get out on his side.

Rachel struggled to slide out from under Whiskey.

Mac extended his hand as she slid across the well-worn upholstery, her shoulder brushed against him as she got out of the cab and walked past him.

He remained standing near the open cab door, watching to make sure she got inside her house safely, narrowing his eyes as her pace slowed and then stopped.

She turned around and faced him, her posture ramrod straight. “I can’t explain the new car or the cruise, but I would bet this house that my brother never stole a penny from anyone. And I would swear on my son’s life that Dan Thayer didn’t kill anyone.”

Mac nodded. “There’s only been two people in my life that I’ve trusted that much and only one of them deserved it. I just hope your faith isn’t misplaced.”

Rachel looked out at the dark street and the cab with the shattered window. “You’re not going to sit out there and watch my house all night are you?”

“No,” he chuckled, then added, “You going to be okay?”

“What?” Surprised, she stared at him.

“When things quiet down, you’re going to remember Angela Lopez’s face. You’re going to remember that someone took a shot at you. Right now you’re still running on adrenaline, another hour from now you might get a little shaky.”

“Remember where I work; I’ve seen dead bodies before.”

“It’s different when someone is killed in front of you.”

“Is that experience talking again?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “And it never really gets any easier.”

Chapter 12

“Here’s the keys.” Mac tossed them onto Lieutenant Greeley’s desk. “Thanks for the wake up call this morning. I wouldn’t have wanted to get more than three hours sleep in a row.”

Greeley
smiled around his unlit cigar. “I’ve got two murders to solve, you can sleep later.”

Mac sat down in the visitor’s chair and glared across the desk at his former boss. “Yeah, well try not to destroy the interior of the cab or Jeff’s gonna have my head.”

“That bullet last night almost got your head.” Greeley leaned back in his chair. “Thanks for bringing the cab in. The crime scene guys didn’t find the bullet that shattered your back glass. Last night they figured it for going through the glass at an angle and then passing through your open driver’s window into that prefab building next to the gym. But no luck. Fitz wants to check out the cab’s interior.”

Greeley
set his soggy cigar in an ashtray and picked up a coffee cup. “Are you going to the funeral?”

The change in subject was abrupt, even for
Greeley. It took Mac a beat or two to catch up. “Funeral? Malwick’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Last I heard the widow was still too upset to finalize the arrangements. Did the coroner release the body?”

“Yeah, and Mrs. Malwick has decided that sooner is better than later. The funeral is set for tomorrow afternoon.”

“Where?”

Greeley
grinned.

“O’Herlihy’s,” Mac guessed.

“Bingo. Your buddy Jeff has probably got one of his people giving the guy a makeover as we speak. Not sure he can do much with the guy missing about half his face. Our killer seems to prefer headshots. Something I should tell you.” Greeley took a sip of coffee, then added, “Malwick took two to the head. The coroner said the first one took off the guy’s right ear.”

“Torture?”

Greeley nodded. “That or our killer is a really bad shot.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I’ve got Eddie over at Judge Stockton’s getting authorization for a wire tap.”

“A wire tap? For a funeral?”

Greeley chuckled. “In a manner of speaking. We’re going to wire the casket for sound. Anyone decides to confess their guilt while sobbing over the body, we’re going to see that they do penance.”

“Jeff know about this?”

“Figured you could tell him when you let him know what happened to his cab. By the way, you’re going to be needing another ride. If we find the bullet in the cab, we’ll probably keep it until after the case is closed and the trial is finished. Tell Jeff if he plays nice, I’ll get his window fixed before we give it back.”

“He’ll be thrilled.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you gotten any leads on the Lopez murder?”

“About a half hour before the shooting a security guard overheard an argument between Lopez and a woman named….” Greeley picked up a jumbled file folder and rifled through it. “Lenore Adams. She works over–”

“I know who she is,” Mac interrupted. “What kind of car does she drive?”

“Late model, black Nissan.” Greeley waited. His expression conveying his hope that Mac could confirm or eliminate the car as being the one he’d chased the night before.

Mac shook his head. “Sorry. It’s a ‘possible’. I didn’t get a good enough look. She got an alibi?”

“Not a great one. Tom is trying to confirm it. Reportedly, she was buying something to eat in the Student Union when Lopez was shot.”

Mac scribbled a note in his little black book. “What was the argument about?”

“Some kind of computer problem. The guard said there’s been a lot of those lately.”

“Arguments or computer problems?”

“Both.” Greeley’s telephone rang and he wearily glanced at it and then back at Mac. “Probably Judge Stockton calling to complain about Eddie’s attitude. I swear I’m gonna have to send the guy to some kind of charm school. For some reason women can’t stand him.”

“Yeah, well he doesn’t do too well with men either.” Mac got to his feet. “Take your call. I better go give Jeff the good news.”

“Mac?” Greeley had his hand over the speaker part of the phone. “That guard also mentioned some college kids being in the Accounting Office late last night. Two boys and a girl with purple bangs. Ring any bells?”

“Nope.” Mac gave the lieutenant a tight smile along with the lie. As he walked out of the police station, he decided it was past time to schedule a meeting with his junior clients.

***

“My Dad’s gone to see what’s holding up his last order of caskets. He said with the murderer at the college running loose, he was expecting to need more.” Sean
O’Herlihy bit into a slice of pepperoni pizza. “Want some pizza?”

Mac glanced at the half-dozen remaining slices scattered in the grease-stained cardboard box. “How old is that pizza?”

Sean smiled, tomato sauce decorating the corner of his mouth. “It’s this week’s.”

“I’ll pass.” Mac sat down on the sofa across from the elegant oak desk Sean had littered with food, soda cans, and a stack of unopened textbooks. “Looks like you’ve taken over your father’s desk. You sit there long enough, he’s gonna get ideas again about bringing you into the family business.”

Mac wasn’t sure whether the greenish tinge that crept over Sean’s face was caused by the thought of becoming a mortician or whether the spoiled pepperoni was kicking in.

When Sean didn’t respond, Mac shut his eyes and rubbed the kink in the back of his neck. He tried not to think how comfortable the sofa felt, tried not to think how much he’d like to stretch out and take a nap. His earlier meeting with Ray and Sam had not gone well. Ray was hurt that he hadn’t mentioned the Ganseco job but Sam Brenner was enraged. He sighed. It was the first time he’d met Sam, but he’d bet good money that ‘enraged’ was the kid’s default position. And neither teen would discuss what they were doing at the college the night before. He hadn’t had the energy to press.

He’d hoped to talk with Rachel or Carrie, but according to Sean, both were hard at work on Vince Malwick. There was probably something wrong with Rachel doing Vince’s makeup but he was too tired to figure out the ethics.

***

“What do you think?”

Rachel had to smile at Carrie’s enthusiasm although she was a little surprised the teen had started without her. Jeff O’Herlihy had embalmed the body and taken care of holes left by the bullet, but he’d left the makeup and missing ear for them to deal with.

Rachel looked from one side of the head to the other, then looked back to the reconstructed right side again. “It looks like a perfectly good ear. But don’t you think it should match his left ear?”

Carrie grinned. “He had ugly ears. I thought I’d improve him. After all this is his last chance to look his best. And you know no one will see the left side anyway, what with the casket swinging open for a right side viewing.”

“I was going to show you how to make a clay one, but I got tied up on the phone.” Leaning closer to Mr. Malwick’s new ear, Rachel studied the wax replica. “How did you make this? A mold? I almost think I see piercings for ear rings.”

Standing behind her, Carrie blushed and surreptitiously pulled some dried plaster of Paris from her purple hair.

***

Apparently he’d been quiet too long for Sean’s comfort. “I don’t know when Dad will get back. It’s cool if you want to wait though.”

“How come you’re not in school? Some kind of teacher holiday?”

“No,” the teen mumbled. “They gave me a holiday all my own.”

The detective chuckled. “Suspended? Again?”

Sean’s face turned the color of his hair. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Never is–least that’s what your father tells me.”

“You try having a father that embalms people for a living. There’s only so much harassment a guy can take without giving some back.”

“I don’t see any bruises on you.”

Sean flexed his right fist, then rubbed at a scraped knuckle. He gave his father’s long-time friend a smug smile. “They hurt my feelings. I just shared my pain.”

“Yeah, well, I’d feel sorry for you, but I’ve got my own problems–like making a living, finding a murderer, and figuring out how to explain to your father that his cab is impounded until further notice.”

“Can’t help you with the first two, but I think maybe the cops already told him about the cab.”

Surprised, since he thought Greeley was going to let him tell Jeff, Mac asked, “Lieutenant Greeley called him?”

“Nah. I think it was the one that Dad calls Fat Eddie. Dad was doing a lot of cussing.”

Mac winched. “Cussing at me or at the police?”

“Both,” Jeff O’Herlihy announced walking into the office. He crossed the room and set a briefcase down next to the pizza box, frowning at the crumbs scattered across his desk. “But I’ve had time to calm down now.” He gave Mac a sideways glance and added a deep Irish brogue to his speech. Pacing back and forth, he exclaimed, “I’m ready to accept the burdens that the good Lord has seen fit to lay upon my shoulders. Missing caskets. Suppliers stealing me blind. The police interfering in my funeral services. My ungrateful son fighting at school, risking his education. My good friend destroying my profits right and left. My sainted wife–”

Mac sighed. “Is this going to be a long sermon? Cause I only got about three hours sleep tops last–”

Jeff held up his hand for quiet and resumed pacing the room.

Mac sighed again and crossed his arms, settling into the sofa cushions for a protracted stay.

“Where was I?” Jeff asked, pausing and looking up towards the ceiling as if asking for divine assistance.

Instead, Sean chimed in, “You were about to bitch about Mom trading stocks with her club.”

Jeff slapped the top of the desk, bouncing a piece of cold pizza over onto his nearby briefcase. “Watch your language!”

Mac chuckled, watching Jeff pick cheese off the leather. “How’s Kathleen’s stock portfolio doing? I might be needing some stock tips myself.”

“I’ll give you a tip,” Jeff growled, walking over and standing in front of his friend. He leaned over and pointed a cheesy finger at the other man’s chest. “Buy yourself a car!”