Rules of Honour (5 page)

‘Who was that?’

Rink had come silently to my shoulder. His mom was in the capable hands of her two lady friends, blissfully ignorant of what had just happened as she accepted their hugs and condolences.

‘I was just wondering the very same thing,’ I said.

‘You think it was Chaney?’

‘No.’ I’d credited Sean Chaney with more intelligence than this. From the way we handled him on the BART carriage he must have realised he was wholly outclassed. I was confident that he hadn’t run to the police to complain about us, because he would have had to come clean about why he’d made an enemy of us. He was a mug, but not an idiot.

‘If the cops questioned him about my dad’s murder he’ll know where to find us. No way that bastard’s going to bring trouble to my mom’s house.’Rink was building a case for pre-emptive action. I wasn’t usually averse to the idea, but this time we’d have been targeting the wrong person.

‘It wasn’t Chaney,’ I repeated. ‘His head wasn’t fat enough.’

‘You should’ve let me shoot Chaney, saved everyone a heap of trouble.’ He checked on his mom. Yukiko looked frail and bewildered, not an image I’d ever had of her before. Before this she had always epitomised strength and tranquillity, but now she was jittery as she glanced back and forth between her concerned friends. Then she would look elsewhere, and again I got the impression she was searching for another face.

‘Forget about him,’ I said. ‘Let’s concentrate on finding the man who did murder your dad.’

He scowled, but knew I was speaking sense. ‘You think that was him? That asshole in the car?’

‘I doubt it.’

‘But it could have been, and we just missed our opportunity to catch him.’

‘We’ll have other opportunities,’ I said. ‘In places less public than this.’

He understood what I was saying. When we did find the murderer, we didn’t want a bunch of innocents caught in the crossfire. We definitely didn’t want witnesses.

‘Got to see to my mom first,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll get started.’

Ordinarily a wake would have been held to honour Andrew’s memory. However, having just come out of hospital, and still weakened by her injuries, Yukiko was in no state to play host to a gathering offering their sympathies. Rink had taken the decision that his dad’s memory was honour enough and that a wake wouldn’t help his mom’s recovery. But he saw some value in having someone close by her.

‘I’m going to ask her friends to stay with her for a while. It will do her good. She won’t talk to me about losing my dad, but she might with them.’ Rink walked away to approach the trio of elderly ladies and I saw him kiss each of them on the cheek. I allowed him the privacy, taking the opportunity to scan the cemetery once more.

The three acquaintances of Andrew had already climbed into their respective vehicles and were pulling away. Lawrence Parnell and Rodney Faulks were still near to Andrew’s grave. They had their heads bowed in silent reflection, although they weren’t looking down at the grave, but towards Yukiko. They were possibly waiting for the right moment to offer their condolences; I wasn’t sure. Parnell glanced my way. When he saw me watching, he offered a nod and a grimace of a smile before dipping his head. I thought that during the brief interaction fear showed in his face. Perhaps he was feeling his mortality and the ceremony had made him consider his own short future. But I guessed that there was something else.

I walked towards the two old men.

Rink had briefly introduced us earlier, so there was no need of names now. I offered my hand to Parnell, and then to Faulks. Both men shook hands with the hearty manner that spoke of mutual respect. Faulks gestured at the grave. ‘It’s a terrible way for such a good man to go,’ he said.

‘Was a time when nobody would have got the drop on him. Andrew was a tough guy, the toughest guy I ever knew. Such a shame.’ Parnell swiped at his face with a palm, dashing away tears. ‘I can’t believe that some sneaking little thief did that to him.’

Parnell had heard the findings of the police investigation. It was early days yet, but already the homicide detectives had decided that Andrew fell victim to a burglary gone wrong. The fact that there were no signs of entry, and that nothing had been taken, seemed beside the point. Theories of how the burglar had found an unsecured door, had entered but was then disturbed before having the chance to steal anything were still being bandied around.

‘You don’t think that’s the case?’ I asked.

Parnell and Faulks shared a glance. There was something hidden and furtive in their features.

‘It was Sean Chaney, if you ask me. If not him, then someone he put up to it.’ Parnell glanced once more at Faulks, gave him a sharp look and Faulks nodded in agreement. Parnell went on. ‘You probably heard from Yukiko that one of our buddies was having trouble with Chaney’s crew. They were leaning on him for money, so Andrew was waiting for them next time they visited Jed’s store. He saw them off the premises if you, uh, get my meaning?’

I smiled gently. I knew exactly what he meant. Even in his late seventies Andrew Rington was no slouch.

Faulks took up the story. ‘See, Chaney’s all bluster. He backed down from Andrew, but to save face he made threats on the way out. Told him things weren’t finished with, that Andrew would have to watch his ass.’

‘The cops already cleared Chaney. I’m guessing he had a solid alibi,’ I pointed out.

‘Like I said,’ Parnell said. ‘He must have put one of his buddies up to it.’

I didn’t comment. It sounded feasible, but not quite the truth either. These old men had their suspicions about the real killer, but they weren’t yet ready to voice them. I knew then that their suspicion had been the source of the fear I’d read in Parnell’s glance.

Faulks leaned in conspiratorially. ‘I heard that Chaney is limping around all of a sudden. I think that maybe Andrew’s boy has already had a word with him?’

Again I didn’t comment. Both men understood the reason for my silence and now they smiled as gently as I had.

I wasn’t smiling now though. Something was bothering me, and it had nothing to do with how these men were diverting me from the truth. ‘The friend Andrew helped out . . . ’

‘Jed Newmark,’ Faulks offered.

‘I’d have thought he’d have been here to show his respect. Particularly if Andrew lost his life after sticking up for him.’

‘Yeah. We’re surprised he isn’t here, too,’ Parnell said.

I watched Rink help his mom into one of her friend’s car. As she prepared to slide into the back, she took one last look around. Even from this distance I could tell there was more concern than disappointment on her face. Yukiko was expecting to see Jed Newmark here as well, and was worried when he had not turned up. Considering that Jed was the source of trouble involving Chaney, perhaps he’d stayed away out of a feeling of responsibility over Andrew’s death. Maybe he couldn’t yet bring himself to face Yukiko out of misguided guilt. Or – and this was what troubled me most – fear of further retribution from Chaney had made him go into hiding.

‘Are you friends with Jed as well?’

Both men shared that look again. Then Parnell said, ‘Yeah. We all go way back.’

‘You keep in touch with him?’

They nodded.

‘When did you last speak to him?’

‘Couple of nights ago,’ Faulks offered. ‘We had a few drinks together, to remember Andrew.’

‘How was he?’

‘Broken-hearted like the rest of us,’ Parnell said.

‘Not feeling guilty?’

‘What’s he got to feel guilty about?’ Parnell looked at me sharply. Then he lowered his gaze, started scuffing the turf with a toe. I waited for him to add more but he didn’t. I turned to Faulks, who wouldn’t meet my eye either. All I got was a view of his suntanned pate, criss-crossed with fine white lines.

‘Where does he live?’ I asked.

Faulks told me an address in Cole Valley, giving me general directions about how to get there. Suddenly my reason for asking hit his friends simultaneously, and now they were looking at me earnestly.

‘You don’t think something has happened to him?’

‘I hope not, Mr Parnell,’ I said. ‘But we won’t know without checking.’

‘You want us to come with you?’ Faulks offered. Once upon a time the guy was possibly handy in a scrap, but now his heavy body was sunken, his knees bowed. A hindrance rather than a help. Parnell still appeared reasonably fit for his age, but he was lucky if he weighed eight stones wet through. Force of will didn’t mean a thing when someone could pick him up with one hand and throw him across a room.

‘No,’ I said, thinking of a good enough reason to turn them down. ‘I don’t doubt that you can handle yourselves, but if Chaney and his lot are hanging around, I’ll have my hands full. I won’t be able to look after you guys as well. I was talking about me and Rink going there.’

Both men turned to see Rink walking towards us. They appraised him, maybe comparing him with the memory of his father. Both Parnell and Faulks seemed happy with the comparison. Parnell said, ‘If they have hurt Jed, what will you do?’

‘Stuff like that’s best left unsaid,’ I told him with a wink. ‘I wouldn’t like to drop a conspiracy to murder charge in your lap.’

They didn’t reply, but shared that furtive glance of before.

Chapter 7

Homicide Detective P. Wayne Tyler of the SFPD was more formal than his partner who introduced himself simply as Gar Jones.

The four of us were grouped on the landing outside Jed Newmark’s third floor apartment in a converted Victorian in Cole Valley. It was a tight squeeze; Rink’s huge, and Gar Jones wasn’t a little man either. He wasn’t as muscular as Rink, but he was as tall, with square shoulders topping a solid, raw-boned frame. Standing side by side they practically blocked the hall. Tyler was a slighter man, dark and handsome and dressed in a sharp suit and tie. He was alongside me, waiting while the CSI team finished up and we could go back into the apartment. He kept flicking an inquisitive glance my way, but when I looked he’d turn away quickly.

There was a scuff of movement on the stairs below us and from the stairwell appeared men from the Medical Examiner’s office. They were lugging a gurney and body bag. We spread out, allowing them to squeeze by us and approach the apartment door. A CSI tech waved them inside and we all followed suit. If the body was being released from the crime scene it meant that it was safe for us to enter. Rink and I had already agreed to allow the CSI team to run tests on us: fingerprints, shoe prints, fibre samples, but only for the purpose of eliminating us from their enquiries. It was a necessary evil, having entered the apartment when we’d found the door ajar on our arrival. When we had called out and received no answer from Jed Newmark we’d gone in. The smell had hit us before we reached the living room, and it was no surprise to find the bloating corpse lying in the centre of the room.

Jed had been shot in the face at point blank range. The bullet had exited and taken with it a considerable chunk of his skull. The blood spatter pattern showed he’d been standing a little to the left inside the entrance to the room. The spent bullet had buried itself in the door jamb. Other bullets were lodged in Jed’s back, fired into him when he was already belly down on the floor and dead. They had been fired in an act of overkill: that or cold anger. To me it meant that the shooter had come here not only to murder Jed, but also to punish him. The similarities with Andrew’s murder didn’t escape either Rink or me, or the detectives who we called in shortly after.

Tyler and Jones had treated us with suspicion – and rightly so. When we related how we’d come directly from a funeral to check on the deceased’s missing best friend it relaxed them a tad, but not much. It didn’t take much deduction to figure that Jed had died some time the day before, so it didn’t put either of us out of the frame for his murder. For a second or two I thought Rink was going to go nuclear on them, but to my surprise he’d merely grunted and acquiesced to the detectives’ theory. Now he was simply going with the flow, but I knew why. If we started jumping around and shouting the odds, we’d most likely have the cops hounding our tails and no way would we be able to avenge Andrew, and now Jed. It was apparent that the murderer of both men was one and the same, but I didn’t think it had anything to do with Chaney. We had to play our cards close to our chests, otherwise we’d be hobbled by the SFPD and never find the one responsible.

A CSI tech had dug the bullet out of the jamb to bag it as evidence. He showed it briefly to Tyler.

‘Nine mil?’ Tyler asked.

The tech nodded.

I was thankful that we’d come directly from the cemetery, and therefore without our sidearms. My SIG was loaded with nine mm Parabellum ammunition and could have caused an awkward moment if the cops chose to search us for a possible murder weapon. Coming in earlier, Tyler and Jones had done a preliminary inspection of the body and they had concluded from the entry holes that the bullets had been nine mm: Tyler looked pleased that they’d guessed correctly. It didn’t mean an awful lot because many guns use the same ammunition, and didn’t help identify a possible suspect without a gun to compare it to.

The CSI team had concluded their examination and collected all the evidence they were going to. The men from the ME’s office moved in to bag and tag Jed. It was a cold description of their duties, but at the end of the day was what it was. As they went about their business I turned to look at Rink. It must have been hell for him to witness and I knew what must have been going through his mind, his father having died so recently in similar circumstances. I considered asking him to follow me out of the room but Rink wasn’t one to be mollycoddled. In the brief moment my attention was off the proceedings I missed something. When I looked back the two detectives were crouching down over Jed’s corpse, peering at something that had until now gone undetected. I shared a quizzical glance with Rink and we both stepped in for a look at what had caught their attention.