Killer Heat (20 page)

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Authors: Linda Fairstein

BOOK: Killer Heat
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“Ever hear of statutory rape?”

The chair thudded down and Kiernan slammed his hand on the desk.
“What? You must be crazy, man. I don't have to rape
anybody. I got girls-never mind.”

“I know Sally isn't twenty-two. Here's hoping she's at least hit
eighteen.”

“That's what this is? You policing my social life? Not even my
mother does that, Chapman.”

“You go to college, Kiernan?”

“Yeah. Boston University.”

“Any military service?”

“ROTC. I was ROTC at school.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I liked it. My father wanted me to go into the
marines- like him-but I didn't do it.”

Mike was stone-faced. “Did you listen to any news tonight?”

“What news?”

“Some people, they're interested in world affairs or local
politics. Sports. Weather and traffic. Winning lottery numbers.
Sound familiar? The news, Kiernan, you watch any?”

“Not lately.”

“How about last week?”

“I'm asking you, what news?”

“Your friend Elise Huff. Anybody tell you she's missing?”

“My friend who?” Dylan's heavy eyebrows vibrated like a
thick caterpillar across the center of his forehead.

“Elise Huff. The girl who was supposed to meet with you two
weeks ago at the Pioneer.”

“I don't know who you're talking about. Why would I go to the
Pioneer when I've got my own place?”

“ 'Cause a lot of your friends still party there,” I said. “
'Cause maybe you didn't want to bring another girl in here, when so
many others are waiting to play with you.”

“Elise Huff,” Mike said again. “From Tennessee. Worked for an
airline.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kiernan said, his mouth agape. “The stewardess. I
didn't even know her last name.”

Or the sales agent who told people she was a stewardess.

“How many times did you see her?” Mike asked.

“Why?” he asked, his large hand grabbing a rubber band from the
desk and stretching it as he talked. “She's got no gripe against
me. I never touched her.”

“I asked you how many times you saw her.”

“I met her one night. Once.”

“Where?”

“At the house of a girlfriend of hers. I was just along for the
ride with one of my college buddies. Just hanging out, is all. She
was like a stalker, you know what I mean? Followed me around all
night like a puppy dog. Kept calling me all the time after that.
Trying to get together with me. Really annoying, she was.”

“Nothing sexual that first night?” I asked.

“Maybe we made out and stuff. If she thinks that entitled her to
anything else, then she's dumber than I thought she was.”

“She had your cell number? How'd she get that?”

Kiernan stared at Mike. “Okay, so I gave it to her. Is that a
big deal? I got lots of friends. I'm always trying to get people to
come downtown, show them the bar. I give it out a lot-maybe more
than I should. Look, I don't know what you're after but you're
wasting your time.”

Kiernan stood up and kicked the chair back behind him.

“Sit down.”

“Finish up, Detective. I've got work to do.” He put his hands on
his hips and seemed to puff up his solid chest.

Mike stood and faced off with Kiernan. “You see Elise Huff a
second time? On a Saturday night, two weeks ago?”

“I told you I never went to the Pioneer to meet her.”

“And I didn't ask, this time, if you went to the Pioneer, did I?
Did she show up at Ruffles? Did you meet her somewhere else? Did
you return her calls that night? Sit down, take it easy, and let's
go over my questions one by one. There'll still be some talent
waiting for you downstairs when I'm done.”

“I don't even remember what the girl looks like. I don't think I
ever saw her again, to be quite honest with you. You'd have to show
me a picture.”

“You come to the office with me, it just so happens I can do
that,” Mike said. “Which would you rather see? Her college yearbook
or the autopsy photographs?”

Kiernan Dylan exhaled. His voice was quiet now, and his cheeks
reddened. “What autopsy photos? What happened to her?”

“She stayed out pretty late one night, looking for you. That's
an answer I figured you had for us.”

The rubber band snapped, hitting Kiernan on the chin. He picked
up a stapler from the desktop and heaved it against the wall. It
ricocheted and smashed several wine glasses that were lined up on a
side table.

“There's that Dylan temper,” Mike said. “A chip off the old
block. You must make your old man proud.”

“Shit! You leave my father out of this. You didn't tell me you
knew him. What the hell are you looking to do? Shut me down? For
what?”

“Just take a minute and pretend that you feel bad about the fact
that the girl is dead. Can you do that for me?”

The phone rang.

“Ignore it, kid.”

“It's only the intercom. It's Charlie, wanting to know if
everything's okay up here.”

Mike nodded and Kiernan picked up the receiver. “No problem. I
don't need anybody. Take care of Sally for me.”

Kiernan lowered his big body back onto the chair. “Where were
we?”

“You were going to tell me how bad you feel about Elise.”

“Sick to my stomach bad.”

“Pleased to hear it. For her or for you?”

“I'm telling you I met her one time.”

“Quite an impression you made.”

“Everybody was talking about Ruffles that night. The place is
doing really well. Kids that used to be all over the Brazen Head
are coming downtown now. She wanted to be part of the mix, I guess.
She wanted to meet guys, she wanted to have a good time.”

“That first night you met Elise,” I said, “where was the
party?”

“I'm not exactly sure of the address. I went with friends. It
was the house of some girl they knew. Her mother and father were
away, out of town.”

“East Side? West? Downtown? C'mon. Help us with this.”

Kiernan looked at me, surprised that I didn't know the basic
facts. “It wasn't in Manhattan. I was out at my parents' place for
the weekend.”

“Where's that?”

“Breezy Point.”

I didn't know much about the beach community on the far western
Rockaway peninsula of Long Island, in Queens, but Mike would fill
me in later.

“So you met Elise out at the beach?” Mike said, picking up the
thread. I knew he must be thinking, as I was, of the olive green
blanket in which her body had been wrapped, and the sand that
Dickie Draper had found in it.

“I met her at somebody's house, okay?”

“A warm summer night, a few cocktails, a walk along the ocean, a
little action. No wonder she was chasing you after that. You call
her the next day?”

“She called me. Monday.” He had picked up another rubber band
and was twisting it around his fingers.

“To make a date?”

“I guess.”

“Well, isn't that what Elise wanted?”

“She wanted passes to Ruffles. I was handing them out to
friends, so they could drink for free the first time they came. And
VIP cards to get past the lines.”

“But she was interested in you, wasn't she?”

Kiernan shrugged his huge shoulders. The rubber band was twisted
so tight around the ends of his fingers that the tips were turning
white.

“When did you go to Breezy Point next?” Mike asked.

“I'm back and forth all the time. My folks have had the place
since I was a kid. I've always spent summers there.”

“You take Elise out with you?”

“No way. She was nothing to me. I told you, I saw her once and
that was it.”

“Gets crowded out there in the summer, doesn't it?”

“The Point? Yeah.”

“I was thinking about your family's house, in particular.”

Kiernan didn't know where Mike was going with this. He cocked
his head and squinted, his eyebrows rolling into the shape of a
fuzzy V.

“What with all those brothers and sisters of yours, your
mother-”

“She spends the month in Ireland, with my grandparents.”

“Your father, too. But I guess he's had a playmate to keep him
company while your mom's gone, then. What's his friend's name?
Amber? Isn't it Amber Bristol?”

Kiernan Dylan opened his clenched fists and spread his fingers
wide, snapping the band off as he did. He stood up and kicked the
drawer of the heavy old oak desk, moving it back almost a foot.

"That bitch has nothing to do with him anymore. You understand
that, Detective? Amber won't be back, so you can just leave Jimmy
Dylan out of my business. You coming after me? Then leave my father
alone.

TWENTY-EIGHT

What do you mean Amber won't be back?“ Mike asked. ”We're
talking about Elise Huff, I thought."

Kiernan had seated himself in the armchair in the corner after
Mike calmed him down. If he had read a paper or heard a newscast in
the last few weeks, he had missed all of the crime stories or was
playing a good game

And I thought you didn't know anything else about her. I'll get
back to Elise. Maybe when you listen to the cell phone messages you
left her, it'll tweak your memory," Mike said, trying to completely
unhinge his subject, jumping around from one sensitive topic to the
other.

Elise's cell phone had never been recovered, but from the way
Kiernan's legs started bouncing, he didn't want to be reminded of
their exchanges

How long have you known Amber? He was caught between the
proverbial rock and hard place. He had no reason to think we knew
anything about Amber and was clearly blindsided by Mike's reference
to her

I've met her a couple of times."

“Where?”

“The Head. I helped my dad run it before we opened down
here.”

“How long have you known about their relationship?” Kiernan
closed his eyes and thought for almost a minute. “What relationship
would that be? She was a friend. Everybody likes my dad. Everybody.
Then we opened Ruffles, and she'd drop in to say hello sometimes
when she was downtown. Mike rolled the desk chair over to sit
face-to-face with Kiernan. ”Did Amber get booted from the
Head?"

“Did she tell you that?”

Mike kept staring at Kiernan.

“Okay, okay. You're asking me. Maybe she did. She couldn't hold
her liquor. Kept saying a lot of stupid things. Embarrassing
things.”

“What did you mean when you said she isn't coming back?”

“She went home. Amber comes from some Podunk town out west. My
dad told me-no, no, forget my dad. I guess I heard from my brother
Danny or one of the guys who works at the Head that she finally
figured out she had no frigging future hanging around waiting for
some married man to give it up for her. That totally wasn't
happening, get it? It was over.”

“Did you see her before she left?”

“She came in here a couple of times this summer. I'm easy with
the free drinks,” Kiernan said, forcing a smile. “Look, why are you
asking me about Amber?”

The music from downstairs was louder now. So was the crowd,
shouting over the noise from the jukebox. The buzz from the
sidewalk in front of the bar was also heavier.

“Nobody's seen her in a few weeks.”

“I'm telling you, she's gone home.”

“Convince me. How do you know that for sure?”

Kiernan Dylan's feet were tapping on the floor. He bit the
inside of his cheek and looked up at the ceiling. “ 'Cause I packed
up some stuff for her, okay? 'Cause she asked me to throw out some
of her weird, freaky-her stuff, okay? 'Cause she was never coming
back to use it- she told me that herself.”

I tried not to react as Kiernan admitted that he had been the
person-or one of the people-who had so carefully sanitized Amber
Bristol's tiny apartment.

Then he leaned in and looked at Mike. “And she sure as hell
didn't want that pervert superintendent who was always looking to
jump her bones to make any trouble for her after she was gone.”

Vargas Candera. The guy who had a penchant for beating his
girlfriend.

“So you were just being a Good Samaritan,” Mike said. “You
weren't trespassing or, say, breaking into Amber's pad, were
you?”

“You're looking to screw me, aren't you? You don't get me one
way, you try to do it the next. Maybe I need to call a lawyer.”

“Maybe so. Your old man must have a hotline to some jerk for
every time he gets a summons in his place. You got a car,
Kiernan?”

“What?”

“A car. To get back and forth to Breezy Point. To get rid of the
things Amber asked you to.”

“Yeah. I need it for business. For picking up liquor and
supplies. Sure I got one.”

“What do you drive?”

“A minivan, 2005 Ford.”

Mike was thinking the same thing I was. The perfect vehicle for
moving a body or two from one place to another.

“Where do you keep it?”

“On the street. I park on the street.”

“What's the tag?” Mike said, taking out his notepad to write
down the plate number.

Kiernan put his head back again and recited the letters and
digits. He swallowed hard and looked at Mike again.

“It's nearby? You mind if we look at it tonight?”

“I-uh-I don't have it anymore.”

“You just lost me,” Mike said, lowering his head and rubbing his
eyes.

“It was stolen. It was stolen about ten days ago.”

“Your van was stolen? From where?”

“Not far from here. Near the Bowery, a few blocks away.”

“You got a copy of the police report?”

“That's the thing. I haven't made one yet.”

“You what?”

“I haven't had time. It's been crazy busy here at work.”

“You run a bar, Kiernan, not a hedge fund. Once you've made sure
the place is stocked with booze and you got somebody who can pour
the damn stuff, what the hell else do you have to do? Tell me the real reason you haven't called the police, that's what I
want to know. 'Cause you didn't want to open this whole can of
worms, right? Big, fat, juicy, lying, cheating Dylan worms.”

The young man's anxiety was mounting. He was wiggling in his
seat, looking at the telephone as though deciding whom he should
call before he got himself in any deeper.

“How much longer are you two gonna be here? I'm through
answering your questions. I need to use the bathroom, okay?”

“Coop, check it out.”

I walked to the door Kiernan pointed at, near the entrance. Mike
wanted me to make sure it wasn't another staircase or exit, that
there was no telephone inside and nothing Kiernan could use to hurt
himself.

There was only a toilet and a sink. When I said it was okay, the
young man practically mowed me down getting inside and latching the
door.

Mike was on his feet. “I'm taking him in.”

“You're going to collar him now?”

“Got to.”

“Don't do it. He's giving you all kinds of stuff, hoping you
leave his father alone, I guess. It's all good-he's tying himself
up in knots. He'll clam up faster than lightning the minute you
arrest him.”

“He's giving us bullshit,” Mike said, running his fingers
through his hair. He was beginning to look as weary as I felt.

“That's fine. Don't you want to keep it coming? Why shut it
off?” I tried to get Mike to look at me but he paced around me.

“ 'Cause we can turn him, that's why. Have some leverage. If
he's protecting someone else, he won't have the balls to stick with
it. Lock him up and-”

“For?”

“For serving alcohol to minors. For burglarizing Amber Bristol's
apartment.”

“Prove that.”

“He just admitted it.”

“No, he didn't, Mike. He denied it. He said Amber asked him to
do it for her. How the hell do I prove she didn't, now that she's
dead?”

“You're the lawyer. You're so goddamn smart you can find me a
crime.”

“I like it this way. He's spinning in circles. He'll dig himself
a little deeper, and I can use each and every contradiction, each
and every inconsistency, in front of a jury. You put him in cuffs
and we'll have to read him his rights. End of story.”

“Ever been to Breezy Point?”

“No.”

Mike was talking fast and Kiernan seemed in no rush to leave the
bathroom. “It's a private community.”

“That can't be. It's part of New York City.”

“Thirty-five hundred homes. The whole damn neighborhood is a
privately owned cooperative. The houses, the streets, the beaches-
every inch of the place is private. It's got the highest
concentration of Irish-Americans in the United States. More than 60
percent. Boozy Point, as they say about themselves. You'll get no
help out there. They'll circle the wagons around Jimmy Dylan and
his boys, I can guarantee you that.”

“Then we can-”

“You don't even know how to get there, do you?”

“What difference does that make?”

“Take the Belt Parkway for starters. Very close to where Elise
Huff's body was dumped.”

“Mike, I agree the kid looks good for this,” I said, pulling on
his arm to hold him in place. “But let's slow down and try to build
a case.”

“What? Leave him out so he can destroy evidence? So he can skip
town, like that doctor you didn't fight to put behind bars? Half
the Dylan family is still in Ireland. They'll take Kiernan in with
open arms. C'mon, Coop. You've fallen for that crap before.”

“Lock him up for a couple of misdemeanors and he'll still be out
of jail before you finish your paperwork on the arrest. It's been a
long day. Let's get some rest and look at it fresh in the
morning.”

“I don't want to argue the point with you. You don't like it?
Take a hike. I'm not half as tired as you are.” Mike was peeved at
me, perhaps for personal reasons, and ready to dismiss me.

“You ought to lay off him and let me go at him for a while.
Different style.”

“Bottom line is, I'm bringing him in.”

“Not for murder.”

“Of course not. But I just can't take the chance that we leave
him out here when three women are dead and he's got a clear
connection to two of them. At least we can shut this place down and
have the SLA pull the license so nobody else gets hurt.”

The bathroom door opened and Kiernan Dylan slowly walked over to
us.

“I'm not answering any more of your questions, okay? I'd like
you to get out of here.”

I put out my hand to grab Mike's arm but he pulled away.

“We're leaving, Kiernan. But you're coming with us.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He was fired up now.

Mike flipped open his cell phone and hit the speed dial for
Mercer. “C'mon inside. Ask for Charlie, the bartender, and tell him
Kiernan wants you to come upstairs.”

There was nothing close enough for the young man to throw or
kick this time. “What'd I do?”

“Let's start with your liquor license. We'll worry about the
dead girl later.”

“You arresting me? Is that what you're telling me?”

“You act like a gent and I won't cuff you in front of all your
friends. You're going to leave here and come back to my office to
talk to us.”

“I want to make a phone call.”

“You'll get your call,” Mike said, “as soon as we get up to the
squad.”

The door opened and Mercer entered the room. The fact that he
was bigger and taller than Kiernan Dylan was comforting to me, and
surprising to the angry young man.

“Coop, you go on ahead. Call Peterson and tell him we're on the
way. The precinct needs to send a squad car to come by and keep
things quiet,” Mike said. "And get the bar car back ASAP to get as
many names and identifications as they can.

“Mercer, you and I will flank Mr. Dylan here as we walk through
the crowd of his admirers. No cuffs as long as he behaves. And you,
sir, you can tell your man Charlie to make it last call in about
ten minutes, once we're out of the way. You think your pit bulls
are guarding the door?”

Dylan was speechless now. He nodded his head.

“Well, just tell them to be cool with this while we leave here
and the rest will go down easy.”

I worked my way through the bar area and out onto the street. I
crossed to the curb on the far side of Mercer's car and made the
call to Lieutenant Peterson.

Minutes later, the front door of Ruffles opened and Mercer
stepped out, followed by Dylan and Mike. Kiernan told the two
rough-looking men in black on either side of the entrance that he
was going off with the police.

The line of patrons waiting to get in was almost a block long.
Several kids recognized Kiernan and shouted out his name. Near the
front of the group were four guys who seemed to be friends of his.
One called out, saying they had come to meet him and asking where
he was going. Kiernan hesitated, and Mike and Mercer paused with
him.

The dark-skinned bouncer told the group to shut up. “Back off,”
he said. “They're cops.”

The most vocal of the foursome took his cell phone from his
pocket and aimed its little camera lens at the departing trio,
framing them under the Ruffles sign as his flash went off.

“Get ready to hit the gas, Mercer. Coop, you're riding in
front.” Mike opened the rear door of the car and got into the
backseat with Kiernan. "The last thing I meant to do tonight was
stage a perp walk.

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