The Boom Room (4 page)
There was a coffeehouse and juice bar they both liked a few blocks from headquarters. For Pratt, it was the coffee and chocolate-chip cookies. For Ellis, the smoothies. Not many cops used the place.
They'd barely sat down when Ellis asked, “So what do you have?”
Pratt looked at his young partner carefully, trying to read him. He had a lot of regard for the young man. The kid showed great instincts and, more important, was willing to put up with Pratt's moodiness.
They were both on dangerous ground. At this stage, Pratt didn't give a damn if he got shown the door. He had a good pension and not much he wanted to spend it on. He'd miss the work, but the end was in sight anyway.
Ellis, on the other hand, was just starting out. He had a career ahead of him. Possibly a brilliant career. There was a young wife too, and, no doubt, children on the horizon.
He took a deep breath.
“All right, David, there is something bothering me about the case.”
Pratt had stuffed the three photos of interest into the envelope as they'd left. He took his time laying them out on the small table, studying them once again. Then he turned them one by one to face Ellis.
“What do you notice?”
Knowing this teacher/student game very well, Ellis took his time.
“There isn't much blood?”
Shaking his head, Pratt said, “Dig deeper. Come on, it's right there.”
A couple of minutes passed.
“Lewis's hand is on the phone?”
“Okay. What does that tell you?”
Frowning, Ellis stared at the photos. The answer that immediately sprang to mind was that Lewis was calling for help. But he knew that wasn't what his partner had seen.
He slumped.
“I give up.”
“Imagine the scene with me. You've had this kid in your face already that day. He was very aggressive too, and had to be pulled away by his band members. Now, the only place the kid could stand in that pigsty of an office is in the doorway. With all that going on, don't you find it odd Lewis would turn his back to make a phone callâfor any reason?”
“So you're sayingâ”
“That Lewis had no reason to fear the person in the doorway, the person who would stick a knife in his back a moment later. That doesn't sound like a description of your brother, does it?”
Ellis headed out on another “errand,” but Pratt felt sure his young partner was going to pass news to his mother. He hoped the kid had enough sense not to compromise the case.
His desk was a sea of reports related to the case. It appeared Gordon had decided Pratt should be the one to handle the paperwork. Typical.
Searching his own notes, he found a phone number and dialed. It was time to speak to The Boom Room's manager again.
Carl Thomson answered his cell on the first ring. From the background noise, he was obviously in a bar.
“Mr. Thomson, Detective Pratt here.”
“What the hell do you want?”
“I'd like to speak with you again. Can you come down to police headquarters?”
Laughter in the background. “When?”
“As soon as possible, actually.”
“Why do you need to speak to me?”
“I can fill you in on that when you get here.”
“Is this necessary? I'm sort of busy right now.”
I'll bet you are, Pratt thought. “Would you like me to send a cruiser to pick you up?”
“No, no. I can make it there on my own. Is a half hour okay?”
“That should be fine. We're on the fourth floor. Tell them at the desk. Someone will bring you up.”
Pratt smirked as he hung up. He'd been pretty sure the offer of a pickup would get Thomson to agree to come quickly.
The front-desk officer who escorted Thomson up had a smile on her face.
Pulling Pratt aside, she said, “The cheeky bastard tried to pick me up while we were in the elevator!”
“He does seem to think a lot of himself.”
“Good luck with him,” she said over her shoulder, still chuckling.
“Thank you for coming in so promptly,” Pratt said as he took his seat across the table in an interview room and turned on the tape recorder.
“You've caught the murderer, right?”
“Someone is under arrest, yes.”
“Then why do you need to speak to me?”
“We're just crossing the t's and dotting the i's.”
“Can we make this quick then? I had to leave an important meeting.”
Thomson didn't seem worried as he slouched back in his chairâanything but.
This was a fishing trip. With luck, Pratt might net some interesting info.
“I spoke to Margerie Lewis this morningâ”
“Before or after I spoke to her?”
Smooth move. Carl Thomson was obviously not stupid.
“How well do you know her?”
“Not well at all. She didn't come down to the club more than once or twice. Not her kind of place, if you know what I mean.”
Pratt smiled. “And yet you called her this morning.”
“Did she say that? She called me.”
“Really? Why?”
“She wanted to find out when the club will open. She thought I'd know.”
“Anything else?”
Thomson looked more wary. “I suppose I should have told you last nightâ”
“Told me what?”
“That I'd offered to buy The Boom Room a month or so ago. Margerie Lewis wanted to know if I'm still interested.”
“I see.”
Pratt let Thomson hang for a bit as he considered whether this was about damage control. Thomson might be worried Margerie had told him about the offer.
The manager added, “But old man Lewis wouldn't sell. I've been looking for another club to invest in ever since.”
“You were disappointed he wouldn't sell?”
“Of course I was. He didn't know his ass from his elbow when it came to what the kids want to hear. I do. I'm the one who made the place a success.”
“And last night you found your boss's body.”
“You're full of it if you think I had anything to do with it. Ask the head cook. I was downstairs for all of fifteen, maybe twenty seconds. I found him, freaked and ran back upstairs. We went back down together. Ask him!”
“That short a time? Didn't you check to see if he was dead?”
“He wasn't moving. I told you all this last night.”
“I think you left out a few important details.”
“Look, I'm not going to say anything more without a lawyer. I didn't do it! It was that kid in the band. He had a big hate-on for Lewis, and he had a wicked-looking knife he said he would use.”
“Those were Jamie Clark's exact words?”
“Maybe not exactly, but pretty close. He meant it that way.”
The door of the interview room burst open and Gordon stood there.
He didn't look happy either. A lot of people seemed to be in a bad mood that day.
“Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Pratt?” Gordon asked as soon as Carl Thomson had been hustled out the door.
They were still in the interview room. Pratt knew this could get ugly.
“It's called doing my job. I'm not convinced you've got the right person.”
“You're not convinced? Just who the hell do you think you are?”
That got Pratt right in Gordon's face. “Listen here, Flash,” he said, using Gordon's hated nickname. “Even if it turns out you're right, don't you think it makes sense to check out all possible leads? Do you really want to hitch your wagon to only one horse? Are you that stupid?”
The interview-room door opened again. McDonnell glared at them.
Fifteen minutes later, the captain had made it very clear how things stood. If Pratt wanted to dig around, fine, but he had to let Gordon know what he was doing. And McDonnell wanted to know what both of them were up to. Period.
McDonnell turned to Gordon.
“Has the kid confessed?”
Gordon sagged a bit.
“No. His lawyer won't let him say much.”
“I was looking at Pratt's breakdown of what happened during those interviews last night. The girlfriend swears the kid was in the bathroom at the time Lewis was stabbed. I'd suggest you talk to her.”
“I was thinking the same thing, boss,” Gordon answered.
Pratt knew he probably wasn't. He probably hadn't even looked at Pratt's notes.
“Let me know what you come up with.” McDonnell looked at each of them. “You two play nice or you may find I'll buddy you up for keeps. Got it?”
Ellis was sitting impatiently on a bench outside courtroom nineteen. His request for time off had come through. He only had one last item to finish upâtestifying at the Dobbin trial (a small-time hood who'd beaten a musician to death). Since his part in the case had been small, he expected to be on the stand for not more than an hour, maybe two.
From his pocket came the theme from
Dragnet
. He pulled out his phone and said simply, “Ellis.”
The voice at the other end was female. “Um, I got your number from your mother.”
“Who is this?”
“My name is Carolyn Tucci, and I'm your brother Jamie's girlfriend. I live with him.”
Ellis was not happy. He needed to be focused for court.
“And you're calling me for what reason?”
“I didn't know who else to turn to. I have some information. It might help Jamie.”
“My partner is working on the case. He can help you. His name isâ”
“Detective Pratt. Yes, I've met him. I don't want to talk to some old faâ”
“You need to talk to him,” Ellis broke in. “I can't have anything to do with this case. I'm a cop. Jamie is my half brother. There's a conflict.”
“I'm reaching out to you because you are his brother. Please! Will you listen to what I know?”
A guard stuck his head out the door, signaling Ellis that they were ready for him.
“I'm about to go into court. I'll call you when I'm done. Okay?”
She sighed. “I guess so.”
Nearly three hours later, Ellis had to wait while her phone rang four times before she answered.
“Hello?”
“Detective Ellis. Now what do you want to tell me?”
“Ohâ¦damn. I'm in the middle of my shift.”
There was the loud sound of steam in the background. He guessed she worked in a coffee shop.
“Tell me why you called.”
“I can't talk now, but I'm off in an hour. Can I meet you then?”
“Where are you?”
Her workplace wasn't too far away and there was an outdoor store nearby. He could waste an hour checking out camping gear.
Ellis stood outside the coffee shop, watching his brother's girlfriend as she waited on her last two customers. She had a nice smile. Going inside, he waited until she came over.
“I'm David Ellis.”
“I don't want to talk here. I hope you don't mind. I haven't told anyone about Jamie.”
“Not a problem.”
“There's a burger place that doesn't stink down the street. I'm starved. Would that be okay?”
Ellis was hungry too, but his wife would be home tonightâand cooking dinner. “Not a problem.”
Beneath the goth “look at me” makeup, Carolyn Tucci seemed like a nice enough kid, probably fresh from the suburbs. She was wearing tight black jeans and a cropped black T-shirt that only emphasized her skinny body. Her mother probably worried about how she was eating. By the way she tucked into her cheeseburger, though, Carolyn probably only needed to grow into her adult body.
While she ate, he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. From the little Pratt had said, he knew that she was smart and quick, but was she honest? He'd never been impressed with Jamie's friends before. Was she another of those?
“It's so weird to be talking to you⦔ she began as she wiped away a blob of ketchup from the corner of her mouth.
