Authors: E. H. Reinhard
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedurals, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Murder, #Serial Killers, #Thrillers
“What do you think?”
I rolled my shoulders. “Payoff for something maybe.”
The captain scratched at his mustache. “Where do you want to go with it?”
“I’m not sure there’s anywhere to go. They were all cash deposits. All their bills got paid off, and they started depositing money.”
“How much?”
“A little less than ten grand a month so it wouldn’t require the federal forms.”
“Who has that kind of money that’s involved with this?”
“Casey?” I asked. I thought about the gun in his waistline.
Captain Bostok pulled a breath through clenched teeth. “That’s a big accusation, and something that we can’t just toss around. Let’s let that simmer for a second until we find out more.”
“What about the gun he had?” I asked.
“Let me handle it, Kane.”
“How did he find out about his daughter in the park so fast anyway?”
“He said someone from the press called him.”
“Who?”
“He didn’t say who.”
“Where is he now?” I asked.
The captain held out his hand for me to leave it. “I dropped him at his house after he was through at the medical examiner’s office. Just let me deal with that aspect. I want to talk with the major before we start digging in there.”
I understood the captain’s situation. It could be career suicide to throw any kind of accusation at a judge if it wasn’t a hundred percent solid.
“We got a little news on Jake,” Bostok said.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Made contact with his parents. His father called me a little earlier. He said they were on a cruise in the Caribbean which is why no one could get a hold of them. They got back last night. I told them what happened and where we were at. They’re at the hospital with him now.”
“No changes in Jake’s condition though?” I asked.
“No. No changes yet.”
“Alright. Well, at least his parents are there for him now.”
The captain nodded his head. “So we got some video of the park?” Bostok asked.
“Yeah, took it down to the boys in Tech to see if they could do anything with it. I still have Jones, Donner and two uniforms out looking for more now.”
Hank poked his head into my office. “Hey, Patrol got us a van. No plates. They brought him in.”
“The van an 06?”
“Don’t know. The guy is on ice in box number one.” Hank held up a soda and a bag of chips. It was his standard offering for anyone who we questioned.
We headed for our interview rooms. Detective Tanner from our drug task force stood outside the door.
“What’s the story with this guy in the box? Who brought him in?” I asked.
“I did. It was strange how it happened. I came out from a restaurant and hopped in my car. The news for an updated BOLO came over the radio as soon as I dropped it down into reverse. Well, I check the rear-view mirror to back up, and a van matching the BOLO drives behind my car in the restaurant’s parking lot. I waited for him to park and then pulled in behind him. The van didn’t have plates on it. I gave the guy’s window a knock to check him out. The driver said he just bought it and didn’t have his driver’s license on him. When he produced the title, it was dated as being sold a couple weeks prior. There were just too many iffy things going on so I decided to bring him in so you could have a talk with him.”
“What year is the van?”
He thumbed through the folder in his hand. “2006.”
Hank smiled. “Same year as Rick said.”
“Here you guys go.” He handed me the folder. The guy’s name was Daniel Lilke. He was a single, thirty-six year old from Lake Magdalene—a northern suburb of Tampa. The copy of his license said he was five foot eight. It didn’t line up with our witness accounts, but from experience witnesses weren’t always that accurate on height. I pointed toward the door. “Ready, Hank?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be watching from next door,” the captain said.
Hank twisted the knob and entered, I followed him in. I closed the door behind me, walked over to the table and took a seat. “Mister Lilke, I’m Lieutenant Carl Kane. This is Sergeant Hank Rawlings.”
Hank sat the bag of chips and soda in front of him.
“Whoa. You’re the guys from the TV, but in real life.”
“Pardon me,” I asked.
“Yeah. They COP Channel had the Bob Cross case on the other night. You are the guys who got him.” He leaned closer to Hank and I. “Whoa, is that where he shot you in the head?” He pointed at the scar over my ear.
“Mister Lilke, what can you tell us about the van you were driving?” I asked.
“Not much. I had it for ten minutes before I got stopped while I was trying to grab something to eat. I just bought it—paid the guy six grand in cash.” He slouched back in his chair. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
“Too good to be true?” I asked.
“Yeah, the guy wanted three thousand less than it was worth. The thing has thirty thousand original miles. Is it stolen or something?”
“Not that we know of,” Hank said.
“Well, what’s the problem? I was on my way to get it registered.”
“The sale date on the title of the van was a few weeks ago,” I said.
“Yeah, maybe.” He shrugged. “I didn’t look.”
“Well, that’s where the problem lays. The van you were driving could have been used in a number of crimes. These crimes were committed within the last week. We pulled you over driving the van with a title that says it was sold to you a few weeks ago. See the dilemma here?”
“I told you I just came from buying it. Check with my bank, I pulled out the cash this morning. I had to call ahead to make sure they had the cash on hand.”
He was casual. He was either a complete psychopath or innocent. The low mileage and year of the van fit. We needed to see if the guy did.
“Where were you last night?”
“Working.”
“At?”
“The airport. I work the graveyard shift out on the tarmac directing traffic in and out of the gates. The guy with the orange cone flashlights—that’s me.”
“And someone can verify that?” Hank asked.
“Fifty or more people. I work every night 10:00 p.m. until 6:00 a.m.”
His alibi would be easy enough to verify. I was betting that the captain was already on the phone with someone over at the airport as we spoke.
“What was the name of the person you purchased the van from?” Hank asked.
Lilke shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know what the guy’s name was. The title had a business name on it. I remember that. I think it was some kind of plumbing business. The guy said he was the owner.”
“Do you have the title on you?”
“No. The cop took it.”
Hank excused himself from the interview to go find it.
“So, Mister Lilke, tell me about the man you purchased the van from.”
“The man? I don’t know. Taller, a little over six feet.”
“Continue. Weight, hair color?” I asked.
“Average weight for his height, I guess. Red hair.”
“Beard? Facial hair?”
“No.”
“Glasses?”
“No.”
“Any other physical attributes?”
“He had a bunch of scars on his head. Kind of like the one you got there, but more.” He rubbed the top of his head. “They showed through his hair.”
“Notice any tattoos?”
“Nah, didn’t see anything.”
“And the place you bought it from?”
“Warehouse filled with plumbing stuff over in Ybor.”
“Were there any other employees around?”
“No. Kind of looked like a one man operation.”
“Address?”
He scooted himself up in the chair. “I have the classified listing right here on my phone. You want me to grab it?”
I nodded.
He slid his hand into his jeans and pulled out his cell phone. He flicked away at a few buttons on the screen and then turned the phone toward me. “Right here. I told you I just bought it. This listing was first posted two days ago. The address is right there.”
The address listed was a ten minute ride from the station. We needed to get out there and get someone from Forensics into that van as soon as possible.
“We’re going to need to take the van for testing, Mister Lilke.”
His voice raised an octave. “For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
“Shit. Am I going to get the van back? What about my six grand?”
“If everything was legal about the sale, you should get the van back as soon as we are through with it.”
He slouched back down. “Dammit. I shouldn’t have gone through with it. The guy seemed off.”
“Off how?”
“It seemed like he was in a rush to leave. The deal was just too good to pass up. Man, my girl is going to be pissed. I bought the van to start a pest control business. The six grand was everything we had in the bank.”
“Sit tight for a bit, Mister Lilke. Someone will be back with you in a minute.”
He looked down—upset with his purchasing decision. I left the room and found Hank and the captain in the hall.
“Let’s verify this guy’s story about being at work,” I said.
“Already did,” the captain said. “I just talked to Nick at the airport. He checked out—reported for his shifts all week.”
I jerked my chin at Hank. “You get the title?”
He slapped a folded paper against his hand. “Speedy’s Plumbing and Supply.”
“Owner?” I asked.
“Incorporated. We’ll have to get someone from records to look it up.”
“I want you to put a team together and get over to that warehouse. Jones and Donner still around?” the captain asked.
“They’re still out looking for more video as far as I know. I need to check in with them.”
“Call them back. I’ll get on the phone with District Attorney Welsch for a warrant. I should have it within a half hour.” The captain pulled his cell phone from his pocket and started dialing.
“OK. Where’s the van?” I asked.
The captain covered the mouthpiece of his phone. “Just north of Hillsborough on Dale Mabry. There is a restaurant on the corner. It’s in the lot. When I’m off the phone with Danes, I’ll get a wrecker dispatched to bring it in.”
“Alright. Hank, you mind wrapping up with Lilke here. I’ll get on the horn with Jones and Donner and get them back in. Meet me in the briefing room as soon as you’re done.”
Hank nodded.
Tom’s pocket bulged as he walked down the street. Six thousand and two hundred dollars in cash strained the stitches of his wallet. A half mile away was his destination—a superstore that sold prepaid credit cards and cell phones. He’d activate the phone with a bogus name and use it to book his flight online—he’d pay for it with the prepaid credit card. It was perfect, and all completely untraceable.
He’d kick back at the shop until around midnight before heading out. After a quick stop at Judge Casey’s, he’d be on his way to his new life.
I grabbed my cell phone to dial up Jones. The screen told me I had an email from my sister and two text messages from Callie. I dialed up Jones as I entered the briefing room. He picked up within a couple rings.
“Detective Jones.” He drew in large, loud breaths.
“Jones, it’s Kane.”
“We’re walking back now.”
“What did you guys find?”
“Nothing. Somehow they guy disappeared in between JFK and Jackson. Telwan and Henry went another block up. They still got nothing.”
“Are Telwan and Henry still with you?”
“Yeah, they’re following us back.”
“You and Donner got a few more hours in you?”
“I don’t mind putting in another few hours, do you?” Donner said
no
in the background. “Yeah, Lieutenant, if you still need us, we can hang around for another few hours.”
“Good. Grab Telwan and Henry and meet me in the briefing room as soon as you can. There’s a warehouse that we need to look into.”
“Be up there in a couple minutes. We’re just crossing the park now.”
“Sounds good.” I hung up and grabbed a seat.
I clicked the button on my phone to view the email from my sister. There were five photos of my nephew sitting on a small train. I’d have to look at them later. I clicked the icon for Callie’s text messages. The first asked me when I thought I’d be done with work. I clicked for the next message. It was a photo of her looking sad asking why I didn’t want to talk to her. I dialed her up.
“Hey, Babe. Are you busy?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’ve been running non-stop. We got a couple breaks in the case. I’m about to head back out in a minute. I just figured I’d call you back quick while I had a second.”
The balancing of work and checking in with someone was something I hadn’t done since my ex-wife Samantha. I had to remind myself that someone was out there thinking about me. It was a good feeling, and I made a conscious effort to make the calls when I could.
“You didn’t need to call if you were in the middle of something. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“How does it sound?”
“Sexy.”
I smiled. It was the first time for the day. “Yours too.”
“You’re such a liar. Any idea what time you’re going to be done tonight?”
“I’ll have a better idea later.”
“I have off tonight and don’t start until noon tomorrow, so I was thinking that maybe I could come out by you?”
“Sounds perfect.” Hank walked into the briefing room. “Hey, I have to get back to it. I’ll call you as soon as I know when I’ll be done.”
“Alright. Be safe.”
“I will.”
“Bye, Babe.”
“OK, I’ll see you later.” I hung up.
Hank grabbed a chair. “Callie?” he asked.
“Yup. Checking in.”
“That’s weird, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone worrying about you while you’re at work. Karen makes me check in with her a couple times a day.”
“I dealt with it with Samantha, but yeah, I know what you mean. Speaking of Karen, did you tell her about the car?”
“Yeah, had to. She got on the phone with the insurance company. An adjuster will be out today at five to take care of it.”
“She laid into them?”
Hank nodded. “I’ve been on the other end of the phone when she gets going. It’s not a happy place.”
“Well, it’s good that it’s getting taken care of.”
Hank flopped his arms up on the table in front of him. “Jones and Donner on their way back?”