No Mercy (19 page)

Paul replied, “So he doesn't take responsibility for screwing the girl who kidnapped Deborah Lance in the first place. Anyway it really doesn't matter, he is a killer now.”

The detective's comment was in reference to Patty Saunders, with whom Simpson had an affair during his relationship with Deborah Lance. It was Saunders who initiated the kidnapping of her and set off the most famous case in Long Island history. Paul continued to look at the list. “So it was no fun for O'Connor to kill the girls once Cronin was out of the way.”

Sysco nodded.

Paul continued, “What about Sherry Walker. Why the bounty to begin with?”

Sysco tried to move forward but forgot his huge belly prevented him. “She saved Rachelle Robinson's life in the village and the boss man was pissed beyond belief. When all of this was planned and she left your task force, he figured she wasn't worth the bounty money as well.”

Ashley interjected, “For someone who wasn't involved in the murders, you sure know a lot.”

Sysco answered quickly,

“I work for Branca. I never killed these people. I will admit I was angry and upset with that chick—what's her name, Baker? Well, I smelled the $50,000 with the $25,000 bonus, plus she fought back and I couldn't stop myself. Look what she did to my mouth.” He showed his teeth. “She knocked my fucking front teeth out with one of her heels.”

Powers was very soft and quiet when he replied,

“Don't call her a chick again or I will have the video turned off. You don't want that. Who ordered the bounties? Branca?”

Sysco shook his head and hesitated. “Simpson, O'Connor, and Wiley, but I think there is someone else involved that we don't see. I mean Brian Branca acts like the boss, but I think he is getting his information and directions from someone else.”

Ashley spoke again. “How is Simpson getting money back? Does he plan to just spend the bounty, and that's it.”

Sysco explained that Simpson had stolen over $4 million from Lance over the fifteen years he worked for him and it was worth it to him to spend the million. He said, “In return Branca would give him interest in the club, which of course your crazy detective destroyed on the PA.”

Paul spoke quickly. “He didn't destroy it. You guys did.” Paul looked down at the list again and stared back at the big man, asking, “If you were not involved in the killings, how do you know so much?”

Sysco laughed. “Because I'm a trusted employee. Hey, do you guys serve dinner?”

Paul ignored his question. “How did Holly Moore and Sean Martin fit into all of this?”

Sysco tapped his fingers on the table for about twenty seconds before answering, “They worked there part-time, and when the original bounties were given, he found a way to get close to Deborah Lance. He was going to kill her but he said he wanted more opportunities with her in the sack. Plus there was no killing her without giving Simpson a chance to speak with her. When she wouldn't get freaky with him and broke it off, he was moving in for the kill, but it seemed like Detective Johnson was close by, or her father, whenever there was an opportunity. He figured it was a matter of time, but then of course the bounties were eliminated and he concentrated on others. I'm sure when he saw those two cops in East Hampton, he thought of the $200,000 bounty, but the chick. . . er, I mean pretty detective . . . shot them both, which is another reason I felt compelled to teach her a lesson.”

Just as he spoke those words Paul's cell buzzed with a text from Caulfield at the hospital that Baker had taken a turn for the worse and she was having trouble breathing. The doctors were thinking it was a tear or puncture in her lung but that would be confirmed later. Paul showed the text to Ashley and noticed it had also been sent as an email with ccs to O'Malley and Bud.

He looked back at Kevin Sysco and said,

“You better hope Detective Baker doesn't lose her life, fat man. It would be difficult not to let go of the leash on Bud Johnson. You don't want that.”

Paul pressed on as he tapped the table that separated them. “How did you know that Detective Baker was going to be at the club?”

Sysco shrugged his shoulders. “Branca told me.”

Paul tapped harder on the paper as he asked Sysco who told Branca the detective was going to be there.

Sysco smiled and said, “I already told you; it was Blair and Lawrence.”

Paul looked over at Ashley as the ADA said, “Yes, you did.”

Lynagh moved closer to the one-way mirror as he told the tech man, Bill Tillman, to move in closer on Sysco's face with the video as he spoke.

“Officer Blair called Branca to tell him about Martin and Holly being killed and that the woman detective called Baker would be in the club. They overheard you guys in East Hampton after your detective shot Holly and Sean.”

Powers sent Bud a text that there may possibly be a leak in the squad and that they couldn't assume it was only Blair and Lawrence. Bud didn't mention anything to O'Malley during the interrogation of Linda Tangretti. For all he knew the leak could be from him or one of his men. He thought to himself,
There is no way the leak came from one of the cops permanently assigned to Priority 1 Task Force.

Paul continued his questioning as Sysco repeatedly asked for something to eat. Lynagh, who was told to go home for some rest, would not leave even when Officer Franks came into the control room.

Detective Powers asked Kevin Sysco who the explosives expert was, and the big man replied that it was Joseph Brenner, one of Branca's entourage at the club. When asked directly if Joseph Brenner wired Kevin Cronin and Detective Hansen's cars, he answered yes, but wasn't positive about Cronin's vehicle.

Ashley quickly spoke. “Why was Bruce Roberts killed off?”

Sysco replied that Roberts was not the target, that they assumed Lynagh and Healey would bend the rules and try to get in the house, thus more bounties would be collected. He explained that Roberts was collateral damage and a risk the boss took. “The boss wins either way.”

Paul replied, “Get bounty on the two cops or get rid of a liability in Roberts.”

The interview continued as Paul asked how Linda Tangretti fit into all this.

Sysco continued to show his knowledge of all that had happened. “Linda lived in Connecticut and was a cousin of Patty Saunders.” Paul clenched his fist as the big man continued to talk. “Linda helped Patty when Deborah Lance was first kidnapped on the ferry by placing calls from Connecticut and being an alibi if she needed it. When the case was over and Patty was killed by Madison wearing that fucking mask, she was devastated. Detective Johnson told Robert Simpson to leave Long Island and never come back unless Deborah Lance asked him to. He added a slap to his face when he threatened to sue the department and have Cronin's job for all he put him through. He waited for almost eighteen months. All that time he was planning to come back into her life, but he wanted people to pay. He wanted her to feel guilty, as well as Johnson. Anger set in and he decided she would have to die if he couldn't have her.”

Ashley replied, “Then why was the bounty taken off of her?”

Sysco shrugged and said,

“He was told to leave her alone after Cronin evaporated.”

Paul interjected, “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Sysco replied, “Sorry, I meant to say after he was killed.”

Paul looked over at Ashley then back at Sysco. “Well, Sysco Kid, that's it for tonight. We are going to hold you here for a while until we get you in front of a judge.”

Paul motioned for Franks to send in an officer to take Sysco back to lockup. Officer Lynagh shook his head as he walked out of the control room and precinct to get some rest to meet up with everyone later that night.

As Sysco got up to leave, Paul spoke again. “One more thing. If the club is closed, then what would Branca, his attorney, and his entourage of stooges need to be at the club for?”

“Easy,” Sysco answered, “it's used as an office and central point for everything they do. They are there till almost midnight every night, which is why they don't come in till 1:00 or 2:00 in the afternoon.” Paul nodded as the officer took him away.

The detective looked at Ashley and said,

“I will be in Room 2 in a minute. I need to make a call. Do me a favor and send O'Malley in here, please. I will review the tape of their questioning Tangretti later.” Ashley nodded as he left the room.

Paul pushed the buttons on his cell and waited for the third ring and smiled when he heard Rachelle's voice say, “Hello Detective Powers.” He realized how much he missed her and her voice the second he heard it.

Paul was thinking so long that Rachelle spoke again. “Paul, is everything OK?”

The detective was able to get his thoughts back when he told her how much he missed her. He couldn't see the smile on her face, but he knew it by the little change in the inflection in her voice when she was smiling from ear to ear. It had been a while since they were able to speak on the phone at great length, and now wasn't the time either. There were times when Paul wished his life wasn't so complicated. He wanted to stop what he was doing and not have a schedule and just go and do whatever he wanted to do. He thought about how Deborah Lance had the money and the opportunity to be like that, yet here she was, on Long Island teaching fifth-graders when she could be under the sun in Hawaii.

Finally, he heard Rachelle trying to get his attention: “Paul? Paul? Is everything OK?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I just wanted to tell you I love you and miss you.”

“Well,” she answered, “maybe I will come over and wake you up tomorrow morning before we go to work if you would like.” The detective hesitated, then said,

“I wish you would, Rachelle. I have to go. Say hello to Deborah for me.” The phone disconnected before Rachelle could say good-bye. She stared at her iPhone in surprise.

He disconnected so fast that she then sent him a text:
I love you too
.

It was only seconds later when she got the reply from him:
I have always loved you
. Tears filled Rachelle's eyes as Deborah came over to her to be sure she was OK. Rachelle showed her the text as Deborah smiled and hugged her. It was difficult for Paul to fight his emotions, which had become conflicted. He knew he should keep his distance from Rachelle to protect her, yet he felt she was most protected when he was with her. He shook his head with his thoughts as he tried to understand what he should do when it came to Rachelle.

12:01 AM

I
t was after midnight when Brian Branca, Edward Larson, Joseph Talison, one of the bouncers from the club, Joseph Brenner, and Michael Corbin walked into the parking garage in Setauket after a long night in the empty club. The entourage that worked for Branca got into the backseat as Branca got in behind the wheel with Larson in the shotgun seat.

They were laughing when suddenly the back window of the car was smashed by the butt of Officer Lynagh's shotgun, which he turned around quickly to point at the three startled men in the back of the car. The front passenger door opened as O'Malley grabbed the already frightened Edward Larson by his collar and pulled him out of the car and onto the pavement about ten feet away from the vehicle. As Larson tried to get up, the elder detective put his foot on the attorney's throat and put just enough pressure that the air passage was threatened. Keeping his foot on Larson's throat, O'Malley looked over at the vehicle and took out a bag of pumpkin seeds and started eating them, letting the seed shells fall on Larson. At the same time O'Malley pulled Larson out of the car, Justin Healey jumped on the hood of the dark grey Mercedes and in a kneeling position with a stretched-out leg held his 9mm Glock on Branca through the front windshield. With Lynagh pointing a twelve-gauge shotgun at the three men in the back, Healey on top of the hood, and O'Malley eating pumpkin seeds over Larson, Paul Powers got in the passenger seat next to Branca.

“Well, well, well,” he said, “what have we here?”

Branca started to speak. “What the fuck are . . . ”

He couldn't finish his sentence because Detective Powers put his hand on Branca's chin and squeezed so hard the club owner's lips looked like a fish. Powers pressed harder as he spoke. “Listen very carefully. Take the bounties off, and I might let you live. Get with whoever it is that is telling you what to do, and lives will be saved, including these morons in the back.”

The men in the backseat were keeping their eyes on Lynagh pointing the shotgun at them at close range and could not even be concerned about what Powers was saying. Paul shook Branca's head and held on to his face as he continued to speak. “I saw the video of Bud speaking to you in the private room. I know he told you to take the bounty off all of us and to put all of it on him. I'm telling you right now if anything happens to Detective Johnson, and I mean anything, I will hunt you down. I will find you.”

He squeezed his face harder as he continued to speak. “Bud Johnson talks tough, but he has a heart, he prays for guidance on how to deal with people like you.” Paul moved closer to Branca's face as his voice got stronger. “As for me, I will show you no mercy. I will make you suffer, and you will have a slow death. Do you understand me?”

Branca's eyes moved to the corner and looked at Healey pointing his Glock at him through the windshield, then moved back to Powers as he tried to say yes through his fish lips as he nodded at the same time.

The detective would still not let go of his face as he spoke again, saying, “Make no mistake, Brian Branca, I will find you.” Paul Powers continued to hold Branca as he stared into his eyes and he let the club owner look into his eyes. “Now I have one question for you, and I want a straight answer or I won't let go.” Paul spoke to Branca's ear and loosened his hold on his chin so the club owner could answer him. Suddenly Paul let go of his chin, which had imprints of Powers's fingers left in his face.

The detective got out of the car, leaving Lynagh and Healey, and for a moment the men in the car thought they were all going to be executed when Lynagh started backing off. After a few seconds, he nodded for Healey to back off as he jumped down from the hood of the car. By this time O'Malley had eaten about twenty pumpkin seeds and the white seed shells were spread over Larson's body.

O'Malley spoke when he saw Powers, Lynagh, and Healey leave the vehicle. “You know, Ed Larson,” he said as he snapped another pumpkin seed into his mouth, “I'm really getting too old for this shit, but I'll give you a piece of advice. I would do whatever Detective Powers suggested to your partner over there, because I have to tell ya, they look really pissed off; you know what I'm saying? Now I'm going to take my foot off your throat and you are going to get up, get in the car, and this here incident never took place. Understand?”

Larson nodded his head the best way he could. O'Malley walked away and met up with the other three cops as they drove away. Larson held his throat with his hands, trying to force more air into his lungs. Branca had his head on the steering wheel, trying to pull himself together. His three friends were restless in the back and Joseph Brenner even got out of the car to stretch his legs and bend over to think about what had just happened. It was another few minutes till Branca finally pulled his head from the steering wheel and yelled for Larson to get back in the car and spoke,

“What did he say?” Branca said as he looked in the back seat at Talison and Michael Corbin. “He threatened my life. Did you hear him?”

Talison replied, “You're kidding, right? We had a double-barrel shotgun pointed at us from one foot away by a cop who looked like he wanted to blow our heads off. We weren't concerned about what he was saying to you.”

Larson shook his head as he spoke. “Clever, very clever. Powers sat next to you,” he said as he pointed at Branca. “One cop stood with his gun pointed at the back, the other on the hood in front of the windshield and the other grabs me, the attorney, outside the car. No one, including the other cops, can verify what he said to you. His word against yours.”

Branca suddenly changed his facial expression and said,

“Except,” he hesitated then and his cocky smile returned, “except for the digital camera from the monitor station.” He looked at Brenner, who was still walking outside the car, and said, “Joseph, get to the central office downstairs and have the guard play back the tape. We'll be right down to pick you up.”

Brenner took the stairs to the lower level. Brian Branca took out his cell phone and punched in the numbers. He wasn't surprised the call went to voice mail, since it was now after midnight. “We have a problem; we were ambushed by the cops. I thought they were going to kill us. We need to talk, call me as soon as you can.”

He disconnected and started shaking his head as he looked at Larson and said, “What do you think?” The attorney looked at the spot where O'Malley dropped pumpkin seed shells on him and analyzed all the little white specks on the concrete before answering Branca.

“Screw Wiley, screw Simpson, screw O'Connor. It's time we speak face-to-face with the boss. Somehow we have to get rid of Sysco. He's talking too much. We have an in with the cops, let's get with the boss and do nothing until we meet with him.”

Joseph Brenner made it to the monitor station only to find no one there. He walked around the equipment until he found what he was looking for. He pushed the eject button only to find there was no disk or chip recording the events in the parking garage. He slammed the chair against the monitor as he yelled, “Son of a bitch!”

Behind him a voice startled him, saying,

“Wrong.”

Brenner turned around to see a figure dressed in black slacks and a tight black top wearing the mask with blood splatter on it.

“Did you enjoy blowing up Cronin?” the masked figure asked.

Brenner replied as he pulled out his weapon, “I've had enough of this shit tonight.” But it was too late. The figure wearing the mask pulled out a gun and fired three shots. The first in the left leg, the second in the other leg, and then the shooter pulled off the mask as Brenner looked at his killer. The gun fired and hit him squarely in the heart. As the assailant put the mask back on, Branca drove up to pick up Brenner. The occupants in the car started screaming when they saw the Ghost Face figure running toward the car. They were like babies crying for candy as they screamed for Branca to drive faster in the garage. The steering wheel was so erratic at the hands of Branca that he knocked off the side-view mirrors on two cars as he drove. From the rear seat Talison looked at the masked figure running toward the car and suddenly stopping and firing toward the car.

“Christ!” he yelled. “Get us out of here!” Branca tried to turn the corner in the garage but he was going too fast and hit the side wall and had to stop to reposition the car. It was enough time for the masked figure to jump on the trunk of the car as the men screamed louder. Talison pulled himself together and pulled out his gun and started firing at the back, but the Ghost Face attacker was too fast as he rolled off the back of the car onto the concrete. Talison continued to fire as the masked attacker took cover between the cars.

Larson kept yelling at Branca,

“Keep going! Go! Go! Go!” As the grey Mercedes reached the lower level of the garage Branca did not want to wait to insert a ticket and pay with his credit card. Instead he circled around and started circling to go up in the garage.

Talison was still sideways on the backseat when he yelled, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Branca sped up as he replied, “No time to stop. If I went through without paying, my tires would have been destroyed.”

The Mercedes kept going up as Larson dialed 9-1-1. He said,

“We are in the parking garage in Setauket located next to the City music club. We have been attacked and fired at by a masked man. We are circling the exit and entrance ramps to avoid being killed.”

The operator informed Larson that the police were on the way.

Larson shouted back,

“It is the fucking police that are trying to kill us!”

The operator answered back, “Sir, you said it was a masked man.”

Larson bellowed back as the car reached the top of the garage, “It has to be a cop!” Talison looked through the back window, which was now shattered, and spoke. “The stance he took before firing at us. It had to be a cop.” The Mercedes with dents, scratches, and bullet holes in it moved slowly at the top of the garage.

Corbin moved his head from left to right as he moved forward and back at the same time. He said,

“Just stay here till the cops get here; fuck this.”

Larson looked over at Branca. “No, just keep moving. Whoever is behind this won't keep up with us if you keep moving the car.”

Branca moved the car slowly toward the down ramp when the masked figure jumped in front of the car and fired twice into the windshield and struck Larson in the head with the second bullet. Branca stepped on the gas to run him down, but again it was too late.

Talison yelled, “Keep going! Just go!” With Larson slumped over and leaning toward the driver, Michael Corbin grabbed the fatally injured attorney to keep him off the driver as the car swirled to get down to the lower level. The sounds of rubber squealing were so loud it would be hard to believe it was only one car making the noise. Talison had his gun out and was turning left to right, back to front, so much he could feel his neck aching with pain. The now-damaged Mercedes made it to the lower level within sixty seconds, and this time when they got to the exit Branca stopped as Talison looked out, gun drawn, as the credit card was inserted and the paid receipt was issued. The car made it fifteen feet past the exit gate when three squad cars pulled up and blocked its path.

Rachelle and Deborah were at the Pink Mansion sitting at the kitchen table with William Lance discussing plans for the upcoming Halloween season, which was only three weeks away. Both Deborah and Rachelle had become afraid of this time of the year due to the events that had taken place in their lives. They had been staying together since the day Hansen's car was blown up a few days earlier. While it was clear that Rachelle was the stronger of the two emotionally, she too was worried and fearful about the case Paul and Bud were working on. They were very open and honest with Deborah's father. He was a good listener and he even held his daughter's hand as she spoke about her feelings for Bud.

She told him, “I guess you never really know what someone means to you unless there is a chance it will never be the same again.”

Her father got up to go to bed as he kissed her forehead and said,

“Dating is a very powerful and emotional force in life, my love. Be patient.”

Rachelle looked at Deborah and grabbed her hand and continued where her father left off, saying, “It’s not clear exactly what is going on. Sometimes I think Paul tries to protect me from what's going on. I know he is upset about Cronin and Hansen and that Robert is on the loose, but Deborah, I'm here with you and you know Bud won't let anything happen to you.”

Deborah smiled at her remarks and seemed satisfied, when Rachelle spoke again. “OK, time to walk the dogs before going to bed.” Deborah picked up her phone and sent Bud a text.
It’s late, Bud, but I wanted to let you know that I was thinking of you
.

She looked at Rachelle, smiled, and said,

“Sorry, I couldn't help myself.”

As they got up from the table her iPhone buzzed. It was Bud answering already.
I miss you. Do you want to see me?

She answered quickly,
It’s almost 2:00 am, but I would love to see you.

Rachelle and Deborah collected the dogs and went to the front door, opened it, and saw a figure standing there. They both screamed as Bud stepped through the door. The girls moved back as they held their chests while Wes went on two paws to greet him. Rachelle sat down in the foyer chair with Craven trying to comfort her. Deborah, still trying to collect herself, placed herself on the first couple steps leading up to the bedrooms.

Bud walked over to Deborah to greet her and said,

“I'm sorry, Deborah. I was on the grounds talking to the officer on Cliff Road when you sent me the text and asked me over. I knew I could get to your door in less than a minute. I thought you would find it funny.”

He began to speak again, but Deborah jumped in his arms and put her arms around his neck with her head against his chest. The detective put his hand on the back of her hair and massaged it while he spoke. “It's OK, Deborah; everything is going to be fine.”