Forgotten Place (23 page)

"Don's on his way out now," Johnny nodded
toward the dais set up at the top of the marble stairs to Central
Division.  "Listen."

Don Weber stepped up to the podium where a
bouquet of microphones waited to record his words.  I found
myself holding my breath, wondering what he would say, how much of
the truth he would announce to the world.

"Good morning.  I want to thank all of
you for coming on such short notice this morning," he began. 
"As many of you know, Commissioner Hardy and I have been partners
in law enforcement here in Darkwater Bay for a good many
years.  Within the past several months, we have quietly been
working to improve conditions for our officers and detectives,
hiring additional personnel and recruiting some of the finest
police professionals in the state and beyond."

His eyes met mine and he gave a silent nod
of acknowledgment. 

"With that trend in mind, it should come as
no great surprise to anyone that our search expanded to a couple of
additional positions as well.  Effective January first,
Darkwater Bay will welcome a new chief of detectives, a fine
officer from Boston whose commitment to law enforcement is
admirable.  Sheila Juilliard has a twenty-two year history
with the Boston police department where she functioned most
recently as a deputy superintendent."

"This is it?" Crevan murmured.  "He
called everyone down here to announce a new bureaucrat?"

"Joe asked Darnell to vet this woman's
record," Johnny spoke quietly.  "I had no idea that she would
be arriving in town so quickly though."

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

"Hush, he's not done."

"There is another change coming in the near
future to our police department.  A national search is
underway to replace me.  I will remain in my role as chief of
police until such time as a suitable new chief is hired, but saw no
reason not to announce my retirement from police service
today."

I groaned.  "Oh boy."

"Chief, is there any particular reason
you've chosen now to resign your post?" one reporter shouted.

"Only one that truly matters," Weber
said.  "A new era of law enforcement is coming to Darkwater
Bay.  I've held this post for over fifteen years.  It's
time to pass the torch on to a new generation, a new team of
progressive, determined and ethical men and women who uphold a
tradition of incorruptibility and honor befitting those we entrust
to keep the public's safety and trust.  In that regard, my
record is less than unblemished.  It was never my intention to
leave a legacy that included corruption and the decay that was
exposed recently in the arrest of former chief of detectives Jerry
Lowe."

His eyes scanned the crowd, and I would've
sworn they skidded with surprise back to where Danny Datello
stood.

That was when Donald Weber decided to drop
the big bombshell on the public.

"My position was compromised some years ago,
ladies and gentlemen.  A threat to expose certain matters in
my personal life was used to exert undue influence over the office
of the police chief.  My family is aware of that situation at
this time, and I suspect that it won't be long before everyone else
knows as well."

"Are you insinuating that Jerry Lowe was
blackmailing you in addition to his other crimes?  Will more
charges be filed against him to include extortion?"

"I don't know the identity of the person who
leveled the threats against me.  I would hope in this century
that the men and women of Darkwater Bay have evolved enough not to
care about the details of a man's private life.  What they
should always care about is when those hidden details make that man
vulnerable to pressure from outside sources with an agenda that
runs contrary to public interest."

"What is the nature of this secret chief?"
Belle Conall asked.

Weber sucked in a deep breath and uttered,
"It's personal."  Before more questions could batter him, he
turned and quickly returned to the lobby.

"That was weird," Crevan said.

I glanced at Johnny.  "I wonder if
anyone else is considering stepping aside for similar reasons."

"If he was half the man Don Weber is, he'd
have done it first."

The words fell on deaf ears.  My focus
was drawn to still seething Danny Datello as he jumped into the
back of a black Cadillac Escalade that sped away. I couldn't help
but wonder. Was he still angry about my little display of affection
offered up for his benefit alone, or was it more likely, the
realization that his control over the Darkwater Bay police
department was rapidly eroding?

Chapter 20

Crevan climbed into the back of my
Expedition.  After Weber's stunning announcement to the press,
it was about the only place we were guaranteed privacy for a little
chat.

"What did you learn from Mrs. McNamara?" I
jumped back into the case without preamble.

"She doesn't believe to this day that Harry
had heart trouble.  He ran three miles a day, played golf
every chance he got, and apparently enjoyed doubles tennis with his
wife every Saturday at Bay View Country Club."

"Where Storm currently munches cocktail
onions?" I asked.

"Yes," Crevan said.  "But get
this.  Riley had a sit-down with the widow and explained to
her that there is such a thing called a sudden, fatal cardiac
arrhythmia that is extremely difficult to treat even if someone is
under medical observation at the time it occurs and impossible to
diagnose before it happens."

"That's true, but in order to determine
that's what happened to Harry, Storm would've had to crack his
chest open, and that didn't happen," I said.

"What?" Johnny hissed.

"We didn't get around to discussing my chat
with Maya.  There was no autopsy performed, Johnny. 
None.  In fact, Maya said he wasn't even properly prepared for
burial."

"Right, since I didn't get to talk to her at
the morgue, I called on my way over here and told her what Lucille
said.  She and Harry both had made arrangements for their
funerals years in advance of his death.  Since Riley finished
so quickly, the body was sent to Homestead Funerals and Harry's
service was arranged by the end of the day."

"So that's why," I mused.  "It doesn't
explain the speed in preparing the body though, nor does it answer
the question of why they didn't do more than pump him full of
chemicals instead of the normal procedure."

"Maya said the same thing," Crevan
said.  "She plans to call the mortuary for more information
after she finishes the autopsy.  Lucille McNamara has no idea
that Harry was laid to rest after an unusual preparation for
interment, but she is relieved that after all these years someone
is finally questioning his cause of death.  She said that as
kind as Dr. Storm appeared when he talked to her, she never
completely believed the explanation he gave."

"Did she mention which hospital tried to
revive him?"

Johnny glanced at me again.

"Oh don't tell me," I groaned. 
"Another case of paramedics pronouncing him dead and delivering him
to the morgue?"

"I'm telling you Doc, it happens all the
time."

"Not even for the occasional charred remains
or auto accident where death is obvious, Johnny, but for someone
who isn't yet dead when EMS is called, it absolutely shouldn't
happen that way.  The medical examiner's office should always
retrieve bodies. This isn't some quaint little burgh out in the
middle of nowhere.

"But given the unusual circumstances of
McNamara's death and the similar ones with Mitch Southerby, I think
it's safe to say that we might be looking at our link between the
two men."

"Southerby couldn't have been murdered,
Doc.  He was alone in that interrogation room for a minute
tops.  Do you expect  me to believe somebody slipped into
the room, killed him, got out and nobody noticed?  I was right
outside the room, and I can promise you, nobody went in there when
I left."

"Southerby could've killed himself," I
said.  "If we had his body, we could determine how he
died."

"Why confess to the crime if he planned to
kill himself, Helen?" Crevan asked.  "And how would he have
done it?  People are thoroughly searched when they're taken
into custody.  You know that."

I turned to Johnny again.  "Tell me
exactly who was present when you brought Southerby to Downey
Division."

"Lou was there.  Me, Tony, about a
billion officers downstairs, the desk sergeant, Chief Weber..." he
fell silent.

"Who else?"  I watched the recollection
flicker across his face. 

"Lowe was there.  We bitched about it
later.  He was lobbying for McNamara's job before the guy was
cold."

"And Lowe was present when McNamara died
too."

"Doc, you're not thinking that these are
more of his victims, are you?"

I tapped a finger against my lips. 
"I'm not sure what I think, Johnny.  Let's wait for Maya to
see if she can determine the cause of death for the body we do have
before we try to figure out how Southerby might've been
murdered."

"And if Harry was murdered, then what?"
Crevan asked.

"Then I guess we'll be having another
conversation with Jerry Lowe."

"
We
?  No way, Doc.  I'm not
letting that psycho get within fifty feet of you."

"Oh really?  Just how did you plan to
prevent it when I was supposed to testify against him?  It
could very well happen in the future if the additional psychiatric
evaluation determines that he's fit to stand trial after all."

"As interesting as it is to watch you two
draw blood," Crevan interrupted what simmered at the surface and
threatened to boil over, "I need to get back to work.  Ned
left a message while I was with Mrs. McNamara.  The doctors
are discharging Journey this afternoon.  We've got to figure
out where she goes from the hospital."

I glanced at Johnny.

"To Helen's place," he said.  "I'll
give Chris a call and get a couple of our men posted to make sure
the place remains secure, and we should probably see if Shelly can
provide an undercover officer from Downey to play the role of
decoy.  If her assailant is paying attention, I don't want him
led straight to Doc's house."

"And what are you guys doing for the rest of
the day?"  Crevan's eyebrows lifted slightly.  "Or did I
only think I saw sparks flying again before Weber's public
resignation?"

"What you saw," Johnny's jaw paused moving
long enough to clench the muscles into a tight bunch, "was a PDA
designed to piss someone off.  It was about as genuine as a
wooden nickel."

I shrunk deep into the bucket seat. 
Heavy censure pushed me there and held me down.  Crevan and
Johnny chatted for a few more minutes – thankfully about the case,
before he left the car.  Johnny drove away from central and
headed back to Beach Cliffs. 

It took a few miles to find
my voice.  "It wasn't my intention to make
you
mad at me, Johnny."

The firm set of his lips didn't budge. 
Johnny stared ahead intently at a road I was certain he knew well
enough to drive in his sleep. 

"If you were concerned that your new
girlfriend would see it," we were only a few floors down from his
penthouse at the time, "or you know, read about it in some gossip
column, I'd be happy to tell her that it meant nothing."

The joint in his jaw dimpled deeply.

"I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have done
that.  I get so tired of these guys thinking that the world
needs to tiptoe around and live by the standards they dictate
–"

"Leave it alone.  You can't undo it,
Helen."  He pointed at the phone in the tray between the front
seats.  "Why don't you call Levine now?"

My fingers trembled when I dialed the number
I knew by heart.  I waited, holding my breath while David's
end rang.

"You've reached David Levine.  It's
Wednesday the twentieth.  I will be unavailable until Thursday
afternoon.  Please leave a message."

I clicked off.

"No answer?"  Johnny glanced to his
right.

"He must be out working a case.  The
outgoing message says he won't be available until tomorrow
afternoon."

"Huh," Johnny grunted.  "I always
figured he had to be available all the time, particularly when
working a case."

"I'd call his work cell, Johnny, but if he's
involved in a case, I'd hate to interrupt him.  It's tough,
doing the job he does."

"Right," he muttered.  "Must always
respect the..." end mumbled too low for me to understand. 

Fingers tiptoed over the console to the arm
resting there.  "Hey, I am sorry.  The last thing I
wanted was to make you angry.  I like our truce, and I don't
want to think that my stupidity put an end to it before it got
start–"

"I'm fine," still, his arm jerked away from
the light touch of my fingers.  "It made me angry that you
would invite Datello's ire while we're investigating what could be
the one thing we have a shot at using to build a case that'll hold
water."

"Or, it might've lulled him into thinking
we're busy being... distracted with each other."

"Until he has his goons start watching to
make sure we're not up to something else," Johnny said.  "How
long will it take them to figure out you really hate me, Doc?"

"I don't –" the protest died, evolved into
something other than a quick denial of what I had claimed on more
than one occasion, "know."

"Egging this man on is a
mistake.  You will
not
do it again.  Are we clear?"

I nodded, whispered, "Yes."

"If Levine is unavailable until tomorrow
afternoon, you should be able to call him by morning, yes?"