A Deadly Development (7 page)

But what was odd was that something had
happened that derailed his father’s career. His own grandfather,
Robert Burke, had been a homicide detective for over twenty-five
years. He was a legend, not only for his clearance rate but by the
fact he never swore. The man was an anachronism. He used words like
“Geez” and actually meant them. This perplexed his grandson. How
did a man who saw human beings doing the most heinous things, saw
horrors that only other members of homicide could truly understand,
never curse, even once, in his life?

Tom Sr. was following his dad’s footsteps
when something had happened. Something really bad, too, because in
the gossip filled community that was KCPD, not one person had ever
told Burke exactly what went down. His own father would say simply
“Shit happens, Tommy. Watch your back. Trust no one.” But that was
it. He wouldn’t give any details. Neither would anyone else.

Oh, there were rumors. Tom Sr. had fucked the
Chief’s wife. Tom Sr. got caught taking evidence cash from crime
scenes. But, to Burke, none of that could possibly true. Make no
mistake; the man could be a bastard. But, he did operate within a
code. No lying, no stealing, no ass kissing. And, despite his
faults – the temper, the drinking that got worse the older he got,
the cynicism - as far as he could tell, he had lived up to that
code.

The only clue, the real fact he could bank on
came from his Grandfather not long before he died. When Burke had
promoted to Detective, his grandfather was greatly pleased. He
hugged his grandson, and whispered in his ear, “I am so proud of
you. This will be hard on your father, but he will proud, too. He
just won’t know how to say it.” And then the old man broke down and
sobbed. Burke held his grandfather and let him cry, not knowing
what to say. “I told your dad to get out, I told him they were
never going to promote him, but he didn’t listen.” Two months
later, Robert Burke was dead, and the mystery remained. That
mystery would have to go unsolved at the moment.

The second message was from Bethany Edwards,
which was a surprise. Burke had given her his card when he was
leaving Saturday night, but he did that out of habit. Most people
never speak to you again about a homicide, unless they have to.
Many don’t trust the police, and the ones who still do usually are
too shook up about the case to want to talk about it again.

Edwards stated that she had some information
about Viceroy that Burke might find interesting. She indicated she
didn’t want to leave the information on the phone, and had asked
him to call her back to set up a face to face meeting. Tom glanced
at his watch; it was already 7:30. He was supposed to be meeting
Thurber in fifteen minutes at headquarters. Bethany Edwards would
have to wait.

He and Thurber had started their Monday
early, at City Hall right at eight when the doors opened. They
decided to avoid the basement where the City Hall security chief
was housed. Thurber had intimated that he was less than impressed
by the man.

“He’s a fucking idiot,” Thurber explained
while sucking on his Marlboro before they entered the building,
“let’s not waste any more time on that asshole.”

Thurber heaved himself up the stairs,
flicking the cigarette butt to the side before flashing his badge
and entering the building. This was typical of Thurber; he just
assumed Tom was going to follow him. He just moves and that’s that.
Tom hated this about him. Burke even held rank on Jack and Tom was
the lead investigator on this case. Hell, everyone knew that Tom
was even the better investigator; everyone, except Thurber.

There was some good news. Thurber had gotten
confirmation that the City did in fact have the ability to track
the elevator system in City Hall. The bad news was that they would
have to talk to their private vendor about getting the data. It
wasn’t located at City Hall and the wanna be cop who posed as City
Hall security said he wouldn’t have that information until
Thursday.

City Hall was a big building. It was time to
split up. Tom volunteered to interview the members of the City
Council. Thurber was going to do follow up interviews with the
Mayor’s staff and then head over to the City Manager’s office.
Burke was relieved that he wasn’t going to have to spend the entire
day with him.

Grabbing the express elevator, Burke quickly
arrived on the twenty-second floor of City Hall, the floor that
housed the City Council offices. He flashed his badge to the
receptionist and asked to see Councilman Murray. He had already
made up his mind that this Councilperson would be his first stop.
Maybe what Bobby had told him was pure gossip; but he knew Bobby
and he was reliable. He wouldn’t have told him about Murray and
Vithous clashing unless it had most likely happened.

While he waited in reception he thumbed
through his emails on his phone. Burke wasn’t really reading them.
What he really was doing was trying to get a feeling of the floor.
Who met with the City Council and why?
Frequently a ‘ding’
would sound, and the doors to one of six elevators would open. The
vast majority of the visitors were white men, In nice suits, many
with their initials monogrammed on their cuffs. It was clear from
watching them they had been there many times. They used the
receptionist’s first name upon their arrival and she clearly knew
who they were. A quick phone call and the men with their blue suits
and power ties would be whisked behind the counter into a meeting
room Burke could see behind the receptionist’s desk.

City staffers were easy to make out. Even if
you didn’t see their ID badges, their outfits screamed civil
servant. They too had ties on, but usually no jackets and certainly
no monogrammed cuffs or expensive suits. Their clothes looked like
they came from a large retail store on discount. Many of the
outfits didn’t fit right; they couldn’t afford custom tailoring.
They would walk right past the receptionist and would also
disappear into a conference room or someone’s office.

About the time Burke had lost patience and
was going to stand up and ask what was taking so long, a heavy set
woman with frizzy black hair and a frumpy outfit said “Sgt. Burke?”
as she opened the security gate. Burke stood up and walked towards
her.

“I’m Karen Miller, Councilman Murray’s aide.
His office is this way.”

Burke followed her as she turned to the right
and used her security badge that was hanging around her neck to
open a pair of doors down a short hallway. She propped the door
open with her large arms and motioned him into the Councilman’s
office. Murray stood up as he entered.

“I’m Councilman Murray,” he extended his arm
for a handshake.

“Sergeant. Tom Burke with KCPD murder squad,”
Burke replied, as Murray squeezed his hand tightly. “I assume you
know why I am here.”

Murray motioned Burke to sit down and then
did so himself, behind a modern looking desk.

“Yes, such a shame.” It sounded lame the
second Murray uttered it. Burke let him squirm a little bit as he
opened up his notebook, took out his pen and wrote down slowly
Councilman Murray, 3/13.

Murray was younger than Burke had expected.
He had dark blonde hair that had yet to produce any gray. Murray’s
head was too large for his body, but he was handsome, nothing
special, but certainly his mug would look good on a campaign sign.
In fact, Burke could see Murray’s very head and shoulders on a
large campaign sign on the wall behind the desk. Murray looked
assertive in his picture. The sign said in a large font
“
Murray
” with a smaller font stating “
Making Kansas City
Work
.” Like most political signs, it was the requisite red,
white and blue.

The office was adorned with pictures of
Murray. Murray with voters. Murray with Congressman O’Malley.
Murray with his City Council colleagues. Lots of pictures of Murray
with his wife and kids. And interestingly, not a single picture of
Murray with Jane Hughes. Murray had five kids. Three boys, two
girls. A family of clones. Murray, the wife and the kids all looked
exactly like. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect smiles. It was
eerie.

“Now Sergeant, what can I do for you?” Murray
leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head.

“You have a nice looking family,” Burke
replied.

“I’m sorry?”

“I couldn’t help notice the pictures of your
family, you must be very proud.” Burke said.

“Yes, absolutely,” Murray exclaimed. While
caught initially off guard, he seemed happy not to be talking about
John Vithous. That was about to change.

“Councilman, you probably are wondering why I
am talking to you,” Burke said as he made eye contact with
Murray.

“Well, I assume you are talking to all of us
on the City Council, correct?” Murray’s arms moved from the back of
his head to his desk.

“True, but I will be honest, you were first
on my list.”

“And why is that, Sergeant?” Murray seemed
impatient and possibly even a bit annoyed.

“Well, here’s the funny thing,” Burke
replied. He was using his pen to outline Murray over and over again
on his pad. “I looked at almost one hundred of John Vithous’ emails
the day that he died, and not one was to you or mentioned you.”

“That doesn’t seem so odd,” Murray replied
his arms now folded around his chest.

“No, except you are the only one on the City
Council that he didn’t email or talk about.”

That wasn’t necessarily true. Burke had
noticed that Vithous had emailed most of the City Council, and it
was true, Don Murray wasn’t one of them. But there probably were a
couple others too. He was guessing Councilman Murray wouldn’t
check, though.

“Well, it is no secret that John and I were
not friends,” Murray replied.

“Yes. I had heard that,” Burke confirmed.
And then he waited long enough for the moment to get uncomfortable
and for Murray to say something more

“Sergeant. Burke, my mother told me not to
speak ill of the dead, so I probably shouldn’t say more,” Murray
protested.

“My mother told me all sorts of things when I
was a kid that I now ignore, Councilman,” Burke countered with a
smile, “I’ll make you deal. Whatever we discuss here today? We
won’t tell either of our mothers.”

This got a small smile from Don Murray. He
leaned back in his chair.

“I guess it’s no secret that I was on John
Vithous’ enemies list. And Sergeant, to be fair, that list was very
long.”
“So I’ve heard.”

“I guess I was special because from the day I
got here I didn’t play by their rules,” Murray continued.

Burke stopped writing for a moment.

“What rules?”

“The Mayor’s and John’s rules, Sgt. Burke.
Their unwritten rules. The minute I didn’t vote with them on a
project they were unhappy. The second I voiced my apprehensions to
reporters about an ordinance they wanted passed, I became dead to
them.” Murray ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“And what did being dead entail, exactly?”
Burke asked.

“It meant no ordinance I sponsored had any
hopes of getting passed. Hughes would assign it to Bill
Cunningham’s committee to make sure it would die before it ever got
heard. It meant that I went from being chair of the transportation
and infrastructure committee to just being a member of the housing
committee. Can you believe that? From chair of one of the most
powerful committees at City Hall to a member of committee I
couldn’t have cared less about.”

“Not much public housing up in your district,
huh?” Burke surmised

“Nope. We do have a lot of new roads and
bridges though. See that? Message received. Loud and clear.” Murray
looked out his window. “What a waste.”

Burke followed his gaze outside. It was
getting warmer out there. Burke could tell even from the
twenty-second floor because there were several individuals outside
the Jackson County Courthouse sitting out in the sun. Had it been
cold, only the smokers would have been there.

“You lost all that because you voiced your
opinions? Because you had the nerve to vote against her? That seems
awfully harsh.”

“You don’t understand, Sergeant. They don’t
operate like the rest of us do. There is no give and take, only
give. The Mayor puts on a great show -- she smiles, she waves, she
only talks in a positive fashion,” Murray mimed the Mayor’s
movements as he spoke. Burke had to admit, it was a pretty good
impression.

“But behind closed doors it is very
different. She threatens, she pouts, she demands obedience.” Murray
stopped for moment; collecting his thoughts before continuing.

“She hates bad publicity. Vithous too. They
wanted 13-0 votes on everything, from the banal to major deals. She
couldn’t stand it if someone voted against something if she was for
it.”

“And you were the one to their “twelve most
times?” Burke asked.

Murray nodded. “Yep, doing it once was too
much. After awhile, I found myself voting no just to vote no on
some things. What else could they do to me?”

“Well, they could spread dirt on you,
especially if you had aspirations for higher office,” Burke
offered.

The smile on Murray’s face evaporated. It was
replaced with a stern gaze and a look of contempt.

“You obviously are hinting at something,
Burke.”

“Look,” Burke stated. “I don’t care if it’s
true. I’m a homicide detective, not a marriage counselor. Whether
you are faithful to your wife or screwed around on her, I don’t
care. Not my business. However, I am interested if my victim does
in fact blackmail people in order to get his boss ahead
politically.”

“How is that relevant?” The look of contempt
on Murray’s face had evolved into some anger.

“It’s relevant because it lets me know what
John Vithous was capable of. And if he is in fact capable of such
things means he had lots of enemies. And enemies, in this case at
least, leads to his head being pounded in like it was a nail.”