Molly Brown (18 page)

“So basically I’m the fall guy?”

“Not exactly. I figured you might come up with something. We don’t have enough evidence, or at least we didn’t. Maybe we do now. It’s complicated.”

“Complicated? Y
ou haven’t heard my side yet.”

Gerry smiled for the first time. “Tommy, when is your life not complicated?”

Connell conceded a little. It was hard to stay permanently mad. It took too much energy and he was beat. He slumped back in his seat and took a slug of coffee. “Go on.”

“It’s a joint agency operation and I don’t need to tell you how these things get screwed up when big egos start bouncing off one another. I was really on
ly tasked to investigate Gibbons and Scott. The investigation was wrapped up with a few others so as not to reveal our true focus.”

“Reveal it to whom?”

“Well, that’s the thing. If Gibbons and Scott were recruited straight off the street, that’s bad, but okay. The concern is that the corruption may not be confined to the lower ranks.”

“And our lizard guy is kind of drawing attention to that fact?”

“It may just be a coincidence but he has knocked out a few of our suspects.”

“Maybe it’s not about moral outrage, a vigilante ridding the force of corrupt officers. Maybe he’s actually getting rid of shaky witnesses before they have a chance to talk to you.”

“Working for Frankie?”

“You tell me. You’re the guy with all the answers.”

“Perhaps,” conceded Gerry. “This whole thing kicked off with a disgruntled employee of Frankie’s who was willing to stand up in court but was silenced.”

“By Gibbons and Scott?”

“No evidence, but naturally we suspect it was on Frankie’s orders.”

“Let me guess -
the guy who was going to reveal all was none other than Molly’s dad.”

“You’ve got it. He was working for Frankie prior to his most recent incarceration, then cut a deal for a shorter sentence. We let him
out and he does a vanishing act.”

Connell raised a hand to stop hi
m. “I asked you about Mr. Brown when we had lunch, you, me and Marty, and you said you’d look into it. Why didn’t you tell me all of this then?”

“Because I didn’t know the
full story when you asked me. If you’ll remember, I did explain at the outset that I don’t have the clout that I used to. I know only as much as my bosses allow me.”

“Gerry, cut the crap. You are the boss.”

“No, Tommy. Despite what you might think, there’s always someone else higher up the ladder, right up to the big man himself. I’m just doing my job, same as you. That’s why I’ve been leaving you messages. There’s more stuff that you need to know.”

“Oh yeah? D
id you just leave me a message about an hour ago?”

“I’ve left you a ton of messages, Tommy. What did it say?”

Connell shook his head dismissively. “Nothing. Forget it. So, getting back to it being about us guys doing our jobs, Molly’s dad was just doing his job running contraband for Frankie. He gets pulled in, leaned on, cuts a deal, and then what? He disappears and suddenly you’re back to square one. When were you planning on stepping in and making sure his kids were taken care of, or is that not part of the big guy’s responsibility anymore?”

“Calm down, Tommy. Your indignation is misplaced. I got you the order on Molly
, didn’t I? Do you realize the favors I had to pull to get that? I’m afraid we were both a little late to this party. Steps were already being taken to locate Brown’s kids. Gibbons and Scott got there first.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why all the interest in Molly and not Lydia?”

“I suppose because Lydia isn’t a threat to them. They’ve secured her cooperation with one of their own.”

“Terry?”

“It appears she likes drugs. He feeds her habit. She’s not going to burn her source. Also Lydia doesn’t give a shit about her parents.”

Connell felt a return of bile in his gut that had nothing to do with Gibbons. He couldn’t believe Gerry’s blasé
attitude toward Lydia. Sure, she was trouble, but to write her off at sixteen just wasn’t right. “Gerry, that reeks, and you fucking know it does. Lydia is a kid pretending to be a grownup. Forget the crap with Frankie. We have a responsibility to protect her from herself. You have a responsibility. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not saying that she’s disposable
, Tommy, merely that she’s not at risk because she doesn’t pose a threat to Frankie. She doesn’t know anything that could hurt him, and even if she did, she’s too street-smart to stand up to him. She just doesn’t figure in what’s going on. She’ll be fine till we deal with Frankie.”

“Oh sure, you think she’s fine left on her own in an apartment that someone tried to firebomb?”

“I thought it was your car that had the fire chief hot under the collar.”

“Yeah, but only because I traded my car for Lydia’s apartment. I thought it was a pretty good swap. Anywhere else
in the world and I would’ve gotten a medal. The fire chief didn’t quite see it like that. But either way, Lydia’s not there now. You might think she’s inconsequential to the story, but I don’t. She’s staying at Charlene’s shelter. If anyone can put the fear of God into an adolescent pimp like Terry, it’s Charlene.”

He crossed to the window, leaned an arm against the glass and looked out at the industrial view. It wasn’t pretty but there was something reassuring about the amount of regeneration that was going on
. Maybe that was Frankie’s game - bulldoze the apartment block and make way for New York’s newest biggest thing. He knew he’d eventually deal with Frankie on the price and Frankie knew it too. It was a game, just like all the others that were currently being executed. Connell sighed. He was getting tired of playing them all.

“Are you okay, Tommy?”

Connell shrugged. He was far from okay. He was sick of chasing his tail, of being the last one to get the picture. He wanted out. “I guess.”

“You don’t look it.”

Connell turned and threw a half-hearted smile Gerry’s way. “I’ve felt better, Gerry, but it’s no big deal. I’ve just had a rough couple of days. Let’s get this case over with and I’ll be fine.”

Gerry nodded, like he didn’t believe a word but wasn’t prepared to push for the truth.

“Okay, so what do we have so far?” continued Connell, determined now to get on with it despite a growing sense of dread at where the investigation was leading him. “Frankie has something going on. He’s moving up in the world, taking over where he sees an opportunity and protecting his assets by recruiting a few cops with flexible ethics. He gets wind of the deal you made with Brown and has him taken out. That still doesn’t explain the interest in Molly. For fuck’s sake, Gerry, the kid doesn’t even talk. What kind of threat could she possibly pose?”

“You tell me. I think you’re the expert where Molly is concerned.”

Connell considered for a moment. He was finding it difficult to think straight. His head pounded. He rubbed a hand across his scalp and found the cause of his headache - yet another scar to add to his collection. Lizzie would be pleased.

“I think she most likely saw something or heard something. But, Gerry, she might never be able to talk about it. The kid is different, damaged, call it what you will.”

“And maybe that’s the whole point. She’s not your usual kid and therefore unpredictable. She’s not Lydia, is she? She won’t be bought. She’ll do whatever she wants, no matter what, and that would give anyone cause for concern, especially Frankie. That’s why Gibbons and Scott picked up Lydia’s call and didn’t follow it up officially. They didn’t want that little girl found by anyone but them.”

“So
what now? Gibbons and Scott are both dead. The threat to Molly is no longer there and you have your ongoing investigation with Frankie. You don’t need me. You just need another of Frankie’s gophers to step up to the bench, turn States evidence and you’re back in business. Hey, what about Terry, young pimp in the city? He was shifting gear for Frankie at the warehouse. I’d be more than happy if he were leaned on.”

Gerry frowned. “I’m not
so sure. Gibbons concerns me. He wasn’t our twelfth victim, was he?”

“Nah, I figure he had a falling out
with Frankie. Shot in the head. Bang!”

“Seems a little too convenient, d
on’t you think? Both men killed but by different people and presumably for different reasons.”

“Does it matter? They were bums. The world is a better place without them.”

“I think it does,” said Gerry. “To be honest, the guys upstairs aren’t happy. The house had been under surveillance. Despite that, they didn’t see a thing and now Frankie’s spitting blood about harassment, which is making them nervous.”

“
Under surveillance? Seems to me you’ve got guys tripping over themselves doing the same damn job. Remind me again why I’m even on this case …”

“Different agencies, different motivations
, but all after the same prize. It’s a dog-eat-dog world we live in, Tommy.”

“Well, they must have had the lens cover on their camera if they m
issed Gibbons getting his sinuses cleared. The guy was right out there on the front drive. It must have happened right after Marty left.”

“What time did he leave?”

“He was there till the early hours. I owe him a beer. I didn’t see anyone when I arrived this morning. The street was clear. The house looked empty. I was going to go look but I guess someone took exception to my gate-crashing the party.”

“There was no body found at Frankie’s. CSI have been all over that house. It’s clean.”

Connell snorted his derision. “All over the house? Wow, they must be a speedy crew. Have you seen the size of that place? I think someone is scamming you, Gerry. Anyway, Gibbons was shot as he stood over the trunk of his car. The blood and splatter was contained inside. There wouldn’t be any traces in the house.”

“And maybe they knew that,
” pondered Gerry.

“Sounds like you need to have a little talk with the guys, Gerry. See who’s got their hands in whose pockets.”

Gerry shrugged. Maybe he did. “So where is he?”

“Gibbons?” Connell gave a sly smile. “He was moved. I kind of went along for the ride.”

“Where to?”

“Lakes Sanatorium. You know it? Try searching t
here. I mean I couldn’t be sure, but that’s where I ended up and we started the journey nose-to-nose. I reckon if you check out the basement, you might locate him. Send in the cadaver dogs. He’ll be easier to find that way. He has a certain ambience. The dogs will love it.”

“So
rewind, Tommy. What happened to you? One minute you’re playing, hunt the dead guy and the next you turn up here looking like you’ve been playing zombie wars.”

Connell shru
gged. He had no real idea what had happened - or more crucially, why - only that someone other than Frankie was playing games with him and the stakes were being raised. “I’m not sure, Gerry. Seems like there’s a storm brewing and I’m currently sitting in the eye.”

Gerry sighed. “You could be right
but I don’t think it’s just you who needs to find cover.”

“Why?”

“Because we now have two killers on our hands and every one of the policemen murdered by our friendly neighborhood serial killer was either known to Mr. Brown in a professional capacity or doing deals with Frankie.”

“So
the killer’s working for Frankie?”

“Or Brown.”

“Brown? How could a truck driver afford to pay a hired killer and why would he want to? So he’s been stiffed a few times by the cops - big deal, who hasn’t? Go let down the air out of the tires on a squad car, throw a stone at the precinct window, go jump an officer when he’s alone in a darkened alley, but hire a killer to eviscerate a whole fuckin’ platoon? Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Who said anything about payment? Serial killers aren’t motivated by money. It goes much deeper. It’s a need which is satisfied only when they kill.”

“So what’s that got to do with Brown?”

Gerry got up from the couch and wandered over to take in the view with Connell.

“Brown shared a cell with two others while awaiting sentencing. One was our mutual acquaintance Detective Musgrave, the other was a guy called Luther Pearce. By strange coincidence, Pearce is an exceptionally tall individual, rather like the man who zapped you with a taser. I know that because the prison authorities had to order in a longer bunk.” He twisted his face as if the thought of pandering to prisoners caused him physical pain. Gerry was old school. He believed the best place for convicted felons was on a chain gang, preferably kept short of water under a noonday sun. “Mr. Pearce was awaiting trial for the murder of a local sheriff suspected of raping a twelve year old.”

“So
are you saying Pearce is our man?”

“No. Pearce is still incarcerated.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying three men were holed up in a cell. One petty criminal,
one crooked cop and one killer.”