Casting Bones (35 page)

‘Plus a healthy dividend and growth in Secure Force stock,' Archer said.

The three men sat there, mouths wide open.

‘Forty-five million dollars a year.' Archer shook his head. ‘Just for sentencing convicts to these prisons.'

‘Shit, man. I was robbed of time for two thousand dollars?'

‘Even if it's twenty-five percent of all the inmates, hell, that's still some twelve million,' Levy said.

‘Garrett and Krewe Charbonerrie,' Archer said.

‘So, why kill Lerner?'

‘Why?' Archer asked. ‘Because he had the spreadsheets, the proof that each incarcerated kid was worth a dollar amount. And my guess is that he was going to turn them over to somebody. Maybe the P.T. that was on his calendar. Chances are there are account numbers on those sheets as well, showing where the money is.'

‘Who did this P.T. work for?'

‘A person or an organization that could have destroyed Krewe Charbonerrie. Whoever was behind Lerner's murder couldn't afford to have him rat on the Krewe. They must have known that Lerner was going to spill the beans. They knew if he gave any organization the information this multimillion-dollar business was going to be destroyed. Not only would the income stop, but the big shots would be arrested and thrown in prison.'

‘FBI?' Levy asked.

‘It apparently wasn't NOPD. I think we would have been notified.'

‘Forty million,' Levy said, ‘even if it was just twenty million a year, that's a hell of a lot of money.'

‘Plus the stock in Secure Force. Don't forget that. We're talking millions and millions of dollars. I can't even fathom it,' Archer said.

‘Cop, you gonna let me go? You gonna keep this conversation private?'

‘We're going to do everything possible to keep you out of this, Antoine,' Archer said. ‘If we bring this group down, I don't think you're going to have any problems.'

‘We need to re-examine the evidence, Q. Especially that folder with the spreadsheets.'

‘Get somebody to pull it from the evidence room.'

‘I'll get right on it.'

‘I want those sheets locked up. And not in the evidence room. Things disappear from that building way too often.'

‘Good point.'

‘The warden knew they were going to kill Lerner. It's all starting to make sense. Russell Jakes drove out to see if Skeeter had done his job. He was in on it and didn't trust the two killers, Skeeter and Jim Gideon.'

‘So that's why the Jaguar pulled down the dead end street.'

‘What was he thinking? No one would notice?' Archer asked. ‘Nancy Olds caught him right away.'

‘Criminals are never as smart as they think they are,' Levy said.

They were quiet for a moment, the three of them contemplating the information. Then Archer spoke.

‘Levy, I know where Garrett is.'

‘Just like that?'

‘He's now hands on. He's doing everything himself.'

‘And?'

‘He's in damage control, and he's going to start destroying records.'

‘His office?'

‘No. He wouldn't keep things there. Jakes is in on it, so my guess is records are stored at River Bend Prison.'

‘But it appears there are twenty-five prisons involved. Would he have records at all twenty-five?'

‘We've got to start somewhere.'

‘Guys,' Duvay was whining like a dog. ‘Can somebody please unlock this chain? Come on, man.'

Archer motioned to a guard through the two-way mirror.

‘Let's take my Buick. The shocks are shot but at least the air conditioner works,' Levy said.

Archer nodded. Trade a fairly smooth ride for air. Sounded like the best of two bad options.

‘Q? Forty million. Plus all this stock you keep talking about. Is that worth the life of three judges?'

‘Levy, I'm new to New Orleans. I have no idea what a judge is worth. In Detroit, you could have bought three judges for a couple thousand bucks.'

‘I
done told you, the wallet is in a dumpster near the alley where your boss was walkin' when I met him.' He spit blood from his mouth on the floor of the German car.

His lips were swollen from several punches to the face, and there was a purple bruise under his right eye. The man sitting next to him hit him again, a hard right to his jaw. It was hard to defend with his aching shoulders separated from their sockets.

‘You kept the Black Card?'

‘Don't hit me anymore, man.' He was slobbering. ‘Gave it to the cop like I told you. Turned myself in. Look, I figure this Archer he's a straight dude. He'll return it to this Mr Garrett. I can't give you what I don't have, so stop beatin' the shit out of me.'

He shuddered. Garrett was a killer and he figured these two thugs were equally as bad. But he had nothing else to offer them. He'd told them everything he could.

‘I got money. You know, you let me go, I'll go home and get some money. I can lay my hands on five hundred dollars right now, you know what I mean?'

The driver was on his cell phone, stuttering and stammering.

‘Yes, Mr Garrett … No, Mr Garrett. Boss …' He shook his head as he drove. ‘Mr Garrett, it's not our fault. We're pretty much convinced the little shit doesn't have anything. Gave your American Express card to some cop named Archer. That's the best we could get out of him.'

The big man gripped the wheel with his left hand and squeezed the cell phone with his right, a determined look on his face.

‘You sure? That's what you want us to do? For real?'

Braking, he turned around and glared at Jackson.

The little black man grimaced and closed his eyes.

‘What you gonna do to me? What? No, don't tell me, just do it. Just do it, you hear?'

The driver turned on a side street and came to a screeching halt.

‘That alley over there, there's a dumpster.'

The man in the back seat opened the door and Jackson ducked his head as if to get out. As his captor leaned over, the pickpocket jerked his head up with a hard thrust catching the man under his chin. The thug's head snapped back and he rolled off the seat onto the floor.

It had all happened in a second and as the driver turned, trying to comprehend, Jackson was on the street, screaming in pain and running as fast as he could.

H
e'd parked in the employee's lot. He took another pull from his flask. Technically he still worked there. Solange had told him not to come back, but she had no right to tell him anything. Propping her up and dragging her useless body with him, the big man opened the door of his Nissan and pushed her into the passenger seat. He stared at the girl, her petite frame, and thought of what he'd do to her when she gained consciousness. As he smiled, she moaned.

Clarence felt the tap on his shoulder and he jerked around.

‘What the hell are you doing?'

Clarence's eyes grew big as he stared at the tall, muscular white man in the white shirt and gray tie.

‘Not what it looks like, man. This girl, she works here and passed out. I'm givin' her a ride to the hospital is all so they can—'

The right cross caught him on his cheek and he reeled, banging into the car.

‘Hey, dude,' Clarence crouched, coming up for a head-butt, aiming for the man's chin. The white man dodged and landed a solid blow in the center of Clarence's face, his nose splattering, blood spraying into his eyes.

He landed in a heap on the ground and didn't get up.

The man looked in the open door as Solange Cordray managed to sit up. She stared at the crumpled body lying on the blacktop driveway. Then her eyes slowly raised.

‘Joseph? What are you doing here?'

Massaging his right hand, Joseph Cordray gave her a brief smile.

‘I had a talk with one of your ex-clients who suggested that he might do you some bodily harm. I wanted to warn you, and possibly protect you if it came to that.'

‘It did, didn't it? It came to that.'

‘I still care, Solange. I wasn't sure I did, but I do. Regardless of what you think. Who is the guy?'

‘Someone who threatened me and Ma.'

‘Does he work for Garrett?'

She shook her head and gingerly stepped out of the car, walking around the body in front of her.

‘No. Don't worry about him. I told him to stay away or there would be trouble. I think he'll believe me now.'

Approaching him, she threw her arms around his waist and as he bent over she kissed him on the cheek.

‘This time only, you are my knight in shining armor.'

Cordray smiled. ‘I think you've got an army of knights and spirits out there. I've seen evidence. You and Ma, you're going to be just fine.'

‘Your Mr Garrett, he already came after me.'

His eyes widened. ‘Oh?'

‘I sent him on his way. Hopefully he's another one who I won't have to worry about. He's rethinking his strategy.'

‘Solange—'

‘I know, Joseph. I just pray that you are removed enough from whatever it is that you are involved with that you won't be arrested.'

‘Maybe we can have a cup of coffee sometime?'

‘I don't think so,' she said. ‘And, Joseph, I don't think you need to have me followed anymore. I'd hate to have to do something about that.'

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. Joseph Cordray finally nodded, turned and walked away.

Solange looked down one more time, then walked toward the center. She wanted to see Ma and alert the limited security to deny any visitors. Things had escalated and she sensed someone was in trouble.

‘S
tep on it, Levy. I hope to hell I'm right.'

‘So do I, Q. Because if you're wrong, we're fucked. I can deal with a mistake, but you, my friend …'

‘Yeah.'

‘You only get so many strikes.'

Archer didn't comment.

They continued northwest on Highway 10, Levy running along at eighty miles per hour. Long silent periods were only broken by brief snatches of conversation between the two men, still putting pieces of the puzzle together. Archer called a judge and explained they thought they were ready to wrap up Lerner, Warren and Hall's deaths. The judge told them that a search warrant would be issued in record time, even though the prison was out of their jurisdiction.

‘When it comes to the killing of a judge, we can bend a lot of rules,' he said.

‘What the hell is this about Adam Strand?' Levy asked.

‘We had a strange conversation about how he provided outsiders some inside information. He told me that everyone did it,' said Archer. ‘It was like his sideline business, selling police secrets.'

‘Obviously not everyone does it. Jesus, I wonder how much he made in his little sideline?'

‘And then they found that note in his car, about his meeting with P.T.'

‘Same guy Lerner was going to meet.'

‘Exactly. Was Lerner leaking information to this P.T. person?'

‘And when Lerner died, did that P.T. person go to Strand to get the information? What could Lerner provide that Strand could provide as well? It wasn't as if Adam had a law degree,' Levy said.

They were quiet for several minutes. Archer's phone rang and he checked the number. Sullivan.

‘Sergeant.'

‘Where are you?'

There was no reason not to tell him.

‘Levy and I are headed to River Bend Prison.'

‘We're down a man because of a suicide, we've got an old man in the hospital and possibly an attempted murderer on the run and you're going to the prison?'

‘I think it all ends there. We believe that Lerner and other judges were getting kickbacks from Secure Force prisons.'

‘At this point, I'm willing to believe anything.'

‘Sergeant, we need those spreadsheets from the evidence room.'

‘Funny thing about those sheets, Archer.'

‘By the tone of your voice, it doesn't sound like it's funny.'

‘It's not. The sheets aren't there.'

‘Was Adam Strand on the list of visitors in the last couple of days?'

There was silence on the other end.

‘Hello?'

‘Yeah, I'm here.'

‘Did Strand visit the evidence building in the last several days?' Archer asked. ‘Any chance he was there?'

‘So you think he stole them?'

‘That's what I think.'

‘To what avail?'

‘I think he was going to turn them into someone or sell them.'

‘What are they worth?' Sullivan asked.

‘By themselves, nothing,' Archer said. ‘But I think those sheets link everything together.'

‘Q, who wanted the information? Why?'

‘FBI?'

‘This is
our
murder. Not the Feds.'

‘Sergeant, this could involve twenty-five prisons. Four states. I'd like to believe we can solve this crime, get the convictions and be the heroes, but this is bigger than NOPD. I'm not giving up on the investigation, but understand: we may get buried on this case.'

‘So Strand was contracted to steal the sheets?'

‘My thoughts?'

‘You're the only one on the other end of the line.'

‘Yes.'

‘And that's why he killed himself?' Sullivan asked.

‘Guilt, concerned that he'd be discovered, I don't know.'

More silence.

‘Sullivan, was Strand in the evidence room? I need to know. Yes, he visited in the last two days. No, he was never there.'

‘We checked the list. Yes.'

Archer looked at Levy, the detective keeping his eyes glued to the four-lane highway.

‘Bingo, Levy. We now know what Lerner and Strand could both provide. The spreadsheets with prisoner numbers and dollar amounts.'