Next of Kin (9 page)

Townsend frowned at Long’s attitude. ‘No, not anymore. The investigation into Cullen’s shooting didn’t find any wrongdoing. That’s not the same as finding you
didn’t do anything wrong. You get what I’m saying?’

‘Yeah,’ Long said. ‘You’re saying people still think I was dirty. So much for the presumption of innocence.’

‘Don’t act so self-righteous. You’re a cop. A jury gives a perp a pass, you generally assume he’s innocent?’

‘No,’ Long admitted.

‘No, of course not. Like everyone else, you assume he got off because someone fucked up.’ Townsend leaned back in his chair and scratched his crotch. ‘You sure this is still
the job for you?’

‘It’s the only job I know how to do,’ Long said. ‘It’s all I’m good at.’

‘How about Internal Affairs, then? They could always use good people. I could put in a good word for you.’

‘They think I’m dirty, too.’

‘They think everyone’s dirty, who the fuck cares? Besides, they’re the ones who cleared you in the investigation. Why not let them eat their own shit?’

‘Thanks,’ Long said.

‘You know what I mean,’ Townsend sighed. ‘Listen, I like you; I brought you in. But I also know how shitty your life is gonna be here now.’

‘I want to chase criminals, not cops,’ Long said quietly.

‘That’s not what you told IAD, was it though?’

Long pursed his lips tightly before he answered. ‘That wasn’t my decision. I didn’t have a choice.’

‘Maybe not,’ Townsend admitted. ‘But this job is about trust. The other cops in this department need to be able to trust you on the street. Maybe it’s not your fault, but
they’ve lost that trust in you. It’s gonna make it hard to do your job.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Long said. ‘I can still do the job.’

‘Yeah,’ Townsend said. ‘I’m guessing you can. But is it worth it?’ He stood up and paced behind the desk. ‘Even if you can still do the job, there are things
that could get you kicked off the force if you’re not careful.’

‘Like what?’ Long demanded.

‘Like I’m hearing some rumors about you and the bottle. Not the good kind.’

Long could feel his face darken. ‘Who’re you hearing these rumors from?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘ To me, it does.’

Townsend shook his head. ‘Not to me. The only thing I care about is whether they’re true.’ He came around the front of the desk and sat on the edge, leaning in toward Long.
‘So, I gotta ask: Are they true?’

Long stood up. ‘You think anything I do is interfering with the job, you put me on notice,’ he said. ‘I don’t answer to rumors.’

‘Fair enough,’ Townsend said. He walked back and sat in the giant chair again. ‘Think about it, though. If you need to take some time off, get yourself straight, let me know. I
can make it happen.’

‘I just got back from taking time off,’ Long said.

‘Did you do anything good?’

‘I watched my father die.’

Townsend looked down at his hands. ‘I heard,’ he said. ‘Sorry. Can’t catch a break right now, can you?’

‘Lucky for me I’m a glass-half-full kind of a guy.’

Townsend looked up and locked eyes with Long, and Long had the feeling he was searching for something. Answers, probably. Long knew the captain wouldn’t find any, though, because there
were none to be found. ‘I’m on your side here, Long. But I can’t protect you if you screw up now. People are looking to clear you out, even if it’s only so they don’t
have to look at you anymore, you understand?’ Long didn’t respond. He didn’t need to; they both understood. ‘Think about IAD, it may be better than here for you now. Even a
cushy job on the outside doing private security work; I’ve got connections out there – you say the word, I could hook you up.’

‘I’m not a civilian,’ Long said. ‘You know that.’

‘Yeah, I know that,’ Townsend said. ‘But everybody here is wondering whether you’re still a cop?’

Finn was working on a motion to exclude a confession made by one of his clients when Kevin McDougal walked into the office. He seemed less full of bravado. The tattoos on his
neck were just as pronounced, and he wore the same angry scowl, but now it seemed an empty threat.

Finn stared at him from his desk, waiting for McDougal to speak.

McDougal stared back. The standoff might have continued all day had Lissa not decided to break the impasse.

‘Can I help you?’ she asked from behind her desk.

McDougal had been so focused on Finn he hadn’t noticed her, and her voice took him by surprise. ‘Uh,’ he said.

‘I’m guessing you’re Kevin McDougal,’ she said, rising out of her chair. She came from behind her desk. ‘I’m Lissa Krantz, I work with Mr Finn.’

He shook her hand and let himself be guided over to the chair in front of Finn’s desk. ‘I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about,’ Lissa said. ‘I’ll be right
over at my desk if either of you needs anything.’

She walked away, and Finn figured he’d secured enough of a victory to be gracious. He acknowledged McDougal with a nod. ‘I take it you’ve changed your mind.’

‘I’m here, ain’t I?’

‘Yeah, you are,’ Finn said. ‘You understand, we do this my way, right? You listen to what I say, and you do what I tell you to do. No more hanging out with the moron twins from
the bar. No more drinking, particularly not in public. No drugs, and no pulling any jobs. Once this is behind you, you can do whatever you want, but until then, you’re in voluntary
lockdown.’

McDougal looked away.

‘I’m serious, Kevin,’ Finn said. ‘I told your father I’d deal with this for you, but only if you play by my rules. If this thing gets fucked up, I don’t want
my name attached to it. You understand?’

‘Yeah,’ McDougal muttered.

‘Good,’ Finn said. ‘Lissa will make contact with the DA’s office to see what we can get done. You drive your 7-Series home and stay put in your duplex; it’s the
easiest way to stay out of trouble.’

McDougal stood and walked to the door.

‘Kevin?’ Finn said.

The young man turned. ‘Yeah?’

‘I’m serious. I don’t care how much business your father brings me, I’m not trading my reputation for you no matter what it costs me.’

McDougal just stared at Finn. After a moment, an evil slit of a smile split his lips. ‘You have no fuckin’ idea who my father really is, do you?’ he asked.

‘I know exactly who he is. But if you screw me, I’ll still dump your ass so fast it’ll make your head spin, and you’ll spend the next ten down in Walpole,’ Finn
said. ‘Leave your phone number with Lissa so we have some way of getting in touch with you. We’ll keep you informed.’

CHAPTER TEN

‘You’re kidding me,’ Finn said.

‘I’m not,’ Kozlowski confirmed. ‘That’s the word from inside the department.’

‘Long killed his partner? Holy crap.’ Finn had no idea what else to say.

‘That’s putting it mildly. It’s safe to say Long’s not the darling of the force anymore.’ They were headed toward Elizabeth Connor’s apartment. Finn was
driving his MG with the top up. His huge partner, who hated the tiny vehicle, gripped the dashboard in front of him, as if having a firm hold would save him in the event of an accident.

‘How’d it happen?’ Finn asked.

Kozlowski shook his head. ‘Everybody I know clammed up when I tried to get into details. It was like bad juju or something.’

‘You didn’t get anything? You’re an ex-cop, for Christ’s sake, how could you not get any information?’

‘Yeah, I’m an ex-cop,’ Kozlowski agreed. As Finn pulled around the corner from Massachusetts Avenue onto Melnea Cass Boulevard, he could see Kozlowski’s grip on the
dashboard tighten. ‘Sometimes people focus on the
ex
.’

‘What good are you, then?’ Finn asked.

‘Not much on this, apparently. You wanna fire me, you go right ahead,’ Kozlowski replied.

‘I can’t,’ Finn said. ‘I cut you out, and I lose Lissa. Can’t risk it.’

‘Then shut up.’

Finn pulled into a parking space across the street from the apartment building, shut the engine off, reached over and pulled up the emergency brake. The loud clacking seemed to startle
Kozlowski, and Finn was afraid he was going to put his enormous fingers through the dash. ‘We’re here,’ he said. ‘You can let go now.’

‘You make enough goddamned money to get a decent car,’ Kozlowski grumbled.

‘I’ll get a decent car when you get a decent suit.’

Police tape hung from the doorknob, but it no longer barred the door. It was dark on the landing at the top of the stairs, and Finn felt like he was in the middle of a
nightmare. ‘What do you think?’ he asked Kozlowski.

Kozlowski shrugged. ‘I think it’s ambiguous,’ he said. He put on leather gloves. ‘Let me check something.’ He reached out and tried the knob, which refused to turn.
He gripped it and turned harder; Finn heard a loud crack as the lock’s internal workings shattered. The doorknob turned with a grinding sound. ‘It’s not locked,’ Kozlowski
said. ‘Must be okay.’ He gave a push.

The door swung open. Finn waited, but nothing happened. Kozlowski took a step back and swung his arm forward, inviting Finn to lead the way into the apartment. Finn hesitated. ‘You really
want to look into this, we gotta start here,’ Kozlowski said.

Finn nodded and stepped into the apartment. Other than the mess, there was nothing remarkable about the place. There was gray fingerprint powder smudged on most of the surfaces, and a dark stain
on the floor where Elizabeth Connor had bled out, but other than that it looked like thousands of other apartments in Boston. It was one-bedroom with just enough room to live. An old television
offered the only apparent escape from the monotony of an overlooked life. A chair was pulled up close to the screen with a cheap table in front of it, where most meals were probably eaten alone.
Everything about the place depressed Finn.

He walked around, looking for something – anything – that might give him some insight into the woman who’d brought him into the world. There was nothing, though. No pictures.
No mementos. Kozlowski moved around the apartment efficiently, poking into the closets and cupboards. After several minutes, he looked up at Finn. ‘We need to go,’ he said.

‘There’s got to be something,’ Finn replied.

‘If so, I don’t see it. Cops must have had a dozen men search the place. Anything of importance may be gone.’

Finn scanned the apartment again. ‘There’s nothing here that tells me anything about her. Nothing personal. How is that possible?’

Kozlowski shrugged. ‘This is how some people live. Work, TV dinners, nothing much else. It’s how I lived before Lissa.’

‘So why was she murdered?’ Finn asked.

‘Maybe she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Crack-heads don’t care who they steal from.’

‘Maybe,’ Finn said.

‘If we stay here much longer, the cops will show up and we’ll have some ’splaining to do,’ Kozlowski said.

Finn nodded and the two of them walked out, closing the door behind them. As they turned, the door to 2B creaked open. An eye peered at them. ‘Whachu doin’ here?’ a voice said,
muffled by the door.

‘I’m Elizabeth Connor’s son,’ Finn said. ‘I was just looking around.’

The eye frowned. ‘I called the cops,’ the voice said.

Finn looked at Kozlowski, who gave a reassuring nod. ‘Detective Long?’ Finn asked. ‘He came to see me last night, to tell me about my mother’s murder.’

The crack widened and Finn could see an ancient black man, nattily dressed, well coiffed, looking back at them. ‘You know Detective Long?’

Finn nodded. ‘Like I said, I’m Elizabeth Connor’s son.’

The man made a face. ‘Didn’t know she had a son,’ he said. He looked more closely. ‘I see it now. You must have some of your father in you, too, though.’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Finn said. ‘I was adopted.’ The man took that in, and said nothing. ‘What was she like?’ Finn asked after a moment.

‘Your mother?’

‘You lived next door. You must have known her.’

The old man leaned against the door frame. ‘She was an unhappy person,’ he said. ‘That’s the nice way to put it. Others might not be so generous, even to her son, you
know?’

‘Not really,’ Finn said. ‘Tell me.’

The man looked uncomfortable. ‘She wasn’t a good person,’ he said, looking at the floor. ‘You want me to tell you the truth, I’ll tell. It’s up to
you.’

‘I want to know,’ Finn said.

‘She moved in here probably five years ago. When I first met her, I thought she was a racist. Mean as a snake to me, that one was. Treated me like I was somethin’ to be scraped off
her shoe. Took me a while to understand it wasn’t because I was black, it was because I was human. She was a cruel, bad person. That’s as far I’m willin’ to go. She’s
dead, after all, an’ I don’t like talkin’ ill of the dead any more than I have.’

Finn nodded. ‘I appreciate that,’ he said.

‘I’m sorry about your mama,’ the man said.

‘I never knew her.’

‘Still, she was your mama. That counts for somethin’, I guess.’ The old man started back into his apartment. He paused, and turned back to them. ‘I wasn’t
lyin’; I really did call the cops. They’ll be downstairs I ’spect by the time you get out there.’

‘It’s okay,’ Finn said. ‘I really am her son.’

The man shrugged like it wasn’t any of his business. ‘If that’s true, you make sure you find your own place in this world. Don’t go makin’ all her mistakes over
again.’

Long was just pulling up in front of the townhouse when Finn and Kozlowski walked out the front door. He seemed agitated as he got out of his car. ‘What are you doing
here, Mr Finn?’ he demanded.

Finn and Kozlowski walked down the stoop. ‘Detective Long,’ Finn nodded. ‘Do you know Tom Kozlowski, former detective out of District D4?’

‘I remember him,’ Long said. Kozlowski put his hand out, but Long kept his attention focused on Finn. ‘I still want to know what the hell you’re doing here. This is a
murder investigation, and you crossed a police line.’

‘There was no tape across the door,’ Finn said. ‘It was lying on the floor. Looked like the investigation was over.’

‘Bullshit,’ Long said. ‘There was tape on the door, and the door was locked.’