Read The Fregoli Delusion Online
Authors: Michael J. McCann
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Maraya21
34
Hank stood in the entry of All
Saints Episcopal church wearing his class A dress uniform, hat tucked under his
left arm, as Attorney General Perry walked through the big front doors at 11:10
a.m
., followed by State’s
Attorney Warren Exler. Perry paused, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust
from the bright sunlight outside, as the plainclothes state trooper accompanying
the attorney general peeked through the open doors, saw the line of city police
uniforms, and withdrew.
Chief Bennett stepped forward and
shook Perry’s hand. He introduced Jason Stone, Midtown district commander,
“who’s in charge of security for the ceremony downtown here,” and Ann Martinez,
“our new commander of Detective Services, who’s in charge of the Jarrett
investigation.”
Perry shook Hank’s hand. Hank
introduced Jim Horvath.
Not to be left out, Exler took his
turn down the line.
“This is the oldest existing
church in Glendale,” Bennett said, leading the way through the doorway into the
nave. “It was built in eighteen . . .” he looked at Hank for assistance.
“Fifty-two,” Hank said.
“It’s beautiful.” Perry walked up
a few rows and leaned against the end of a pew. He looked at Hank, his eyes
lingering for a moment on the citation holder above Hank’s left breast pocket
that displayed his gold badge and numerous citation bars. “You folks were going
to brief me on the status of the investigation.”
“Yes,” Bennett said. “Commander
Martinez, if you will?”
Martinez said, “Hank?”
Perry’s eyes never left Hank’s as
the baton was passed down the chain of command.
“We’ve issued two arrest
warrants,” Hank said. “Our suspect is Richard Holland, a vice-president with
Jarrett Corporation. Last night we recovered the digital camera of Brett
Parris, our witness at the scene last Thursday morning, and we were able to
extract photographs of Holland running away from the crime scene with a gun in
his hand, a gun that appears to be a match for the type of weapon used to shoot
Mr. Jarrett. We still haven’t recovered the gun, so we’re treating Holland as
armed and dangerous.”
“And the second warrant?” Perry
asked.
“For Holland’s mother, Mary Holland.
The camera was recovered at her residence. In addition, we have reason to
believe she may have been responsible for a hit-and-run on Parris yesterday
morning. She was photographed one block away right at the time the hit-and-run
occurred. It’s one of those intersection safety camera systems where the
roadway sensor detects speeding and takes two photos, one of them a shot of the
driver. It was her, driving her vehicle, with visible damage to the right front
headlight and bumper. So we want her both as an accessory on the Jarrett
homicide and for failure to remain at the scene on the Parris hit-and-run.”
“Why on earth would she run down
Brett Parris?”
“We figure Holland confessed to
her that he shot Mr. Jarrett and told her that Brett Parris saw him and took
his picture. She knows the Parris family and spoke disparagingly of them during
our interview. She likely went there yesterday morning, saw Brett come out in a
taxi on his way to pick up his girlfriend and take her to lunch, followed the
taxi, and hit him when he crossed the street. Thinking she’d eliminated the
only witness to her son’s homicide.”
“Parris is still alive?”
“Thankfully, yes. He regained
consciousness last night.”
“I understand he doesn’t work as a
potential witness.”
“He has a mental condition that rules
him out as a reliable eyewitness, but at least we’ve got his camera and the
photos. They speak for him.”
“What about motive?”
“Allegedly he’s Jarrett’s
illegitimate son. It’s possible he shot Jarrett after a dispute about Holland’s
absence from the will and Jarrett’s decision to turn over control of the
company to his daughter instead of Holland.”
“Really?” Perry showed surprise
for the first time.
“We only have it from Mary Holland
right now,” Hank cautioned. “It may have all been fabricated as an attempt to
defraud Jarrett. We don’t know for sure, yet.”
“You spoke to Holland’s former
psychiatrist,” Martinez prompted.
“That’s right. We’ve been building
up a historical pattern of behavior for Holland, based on statements from a
number of witnesses, including Jarrett’s executive assistant, Holland’s former
secretary, and so on. There’s apparently a history of dirty tricks and aberrant
behavior in his past. I talked to a psychiatrist named Fort, who saw Holland several
times when he was seventeen. Fort diagnosed him then as having narcissistic
personality disorder. He hasn’t seen Holland since then, so he couldn’t comment
on his current state of mind, but I asked him to give me some general
information about people like him and how they act, so we could predict what he
might do next.”
“Good,” Perry said. “What’d he
have to say?”
“He said that adults with the
severest form of malignant narcissism have to have what he called a constant
narcissistic supply. Meaning a constant supply of attention and praise from
people around them. It’s like a drug addiction, apparently, and they need more
and more all the time. When the supply ends, as it has with Holland, they often
react with what’s called narcissistic rage, which is a reaction to what they
perceive as an injury. In some severe cases it can include physical violence.”
“The idea being,” Perry guessed,
“that this Holland felt entitled to become president and CEO of Jarrett
Corporation instead of Diane Benson, and when he found out he wasn’t going to get
it, he flew into a narcissistic rage and killed Jarrett?”
“That’s the general idea,” Hank
agreed, “although none of this has been confirmed, yet. It’s just our working
theory at the moment.”
Perry’s eyes slid to Exler. “We’re
not getting into diminished capacity here, are we?”
Exler shook his head. “Not if narcissistic
personality disorder’s the diagnosis when he’s brought to trial. It doesn’t
qualify. It’s one of the personality disorders that doesn’t involve sufficient
cognitive impairment to satisfy the test of legal insanity.”
Perry’s eyes slid back to Hank.
“So where is he?”
“That’s the million-dollar
question.” Hank glanced at Martinez. “It’s possible he’s left the city, or even
the state. I asked Fort what he thought Holland might do. Naturally, he
wouldn’t speculate. But he did say that people with this disorder often refuse
to take no for an answer. Or words to that effect.” He folded his arms across
his chest. “I think he’s still here, and I think he still hasn’t given up.”
Perry glanced at his watch. “So
what’s your plan of attack for the day? The governor’s due to arrive at twelve
forty-five. I’ll need to brief him on the level of risk we’re looking at.”
“We’ve pulled out all the stops,”
Chief Bennett said. “Commander Stone has the entire block closed off to
traffic, as you saw when you arrived.” He turned and pointed. “Since the church
is right here on the intersection of Clergy and Simpson, we’ve got this
intersection blocked off both ways, we’ve got Simpson barricaded down at
Concord,” he pointed to his right, indicating the intersection behind the
church, “and of course this entire block is closed to through vehicular traffic
on Clergy,” pointing to the front of the church. “We’re allowing pedestrian
traffic along Clergy across the road, especially in the plaza directly across,
since that’s where the media’s set up, and on this side right up to the
department store next door to the church. We have uniforms all the way around
the block and across the street in the plaza.
“The private ceremony for the
family’s getting underway at noon at the funeral home in Granger Park. The
district commander up there, Peterson, is providing a motorcade for the hearse
and family vehicles when they leave the funeral home to come down here for the
service, and later when they go back up there for the burial at the cemetery.”
Stone cleared his throat. “The
hearse and other vehicles in the procession will be brought through the
barricade and parked right in front of the church. Your vehicle, and those of the
governor and other key figures who are attending, will be parked in the small
parking lot behind the church, where the rector and church staff park. They’ll
be brought around to the front before you leave, of course. The rest go into
the parking garage the next block over.”
“And the people coming into the
church?”
“No one other than church staff
will be admitted before twelve forty-five. We’ll have metal detectors set up
just inside the door, and we’ll also wand them. We’ve already wanded the church
staff who’re here now. Everyone will have to show proper photo ID. We’ve
circulated copies of the suspect’s DMV photo, so if he shows up, we’ll nail
him.”
Perry looked at Hank.
“I have two detectives up at the
funeral home right now,” Hank said, “including Detective Stainer, the one who
fastened on Holland as a suspect.”
“And wouldn’t let go,” Martinez
said.
“That’s right. Detective Horvath
and I will cover this end.”
“We have to keep the lid on this.”
Perry looked at Bennett. “We’ve got national media here. We’ll have the
governor and Senator Brickland,” he began counting on his fingers,
“Representative Mills, three billionaires and God knows how many
multi-millionaires, plus What’s-His-Name, the guy who used to manage the Mets
and the Orioles, the guy with all the books who was Jarrett’s buddy. It has to
go smoothly and by the numbers or it’ll be a disaster on so many different
levels we’ll all be sleeping under bridges and begging for quarters inside of a
week.”
Hank’s cell phone vibrated. He took
it out and answered it.
“Hank, this is Diane Benson.
Something just happened and I thought I should let you know.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“I just got a call from Richard
Holland. David and I are getting ready for the service at Chappell’s at noon,
and I tried to get rid of him, but he was very upset. I saw on the morning news
that he’s wanted in connection with Dad’s murder. Do you really think he did
it?”
“We have some very compelling
evidence. What’d he want?”
“That’s the thing. He demanded a
meeting with me, right now, this morning. He wanted me to agree to step aside
and endorse him as the new president and CEO. Wanted me to sign something. I
told him, well, basically, I told him to fuck off and turn himself in. I guess
I should’ve agreed to meet with him instead so you could’ve grabbed him.”
Hank was aware that conversation
around him had stopped and that all eyes were on him. “No, that’s all right,
Diane. You did the right thing. You’re still at home? How far away are you from
the funeral home?”
“Chappell’s? It’s only about ten
minutes from here.”
“I’ll make arrangements for a
patrol car to be dispatched right away, and I’ll send Detective Stainer over as
well. If Holland shows up before they get there, don’t answer the door. Don’t
let him in. Don’t try to speak to him at all. We don’t need you to be a decoy
or whatever and put yourself at risk. Understand?”
“Whatever you say, Hank. Just
don’t let this nutcase get away, that’s all I ask.”
“We won’t.” He ended the call and
looked at Martinez. “Holland telephoned Diane Benson at her home demanding a
meeting. We need a car over there, ASAP.”
“I’ll call Peterson,” Bennett
said.
“It’s okay, Chief. I got it.”
Martinez already had her cell phone pressed to her ear.
Hank called Karen, told her what
had happened, and gave her the address.
“No problem,” Karen replied. “Beats
sitting around here with my thumb up my ass. You know how much I love funeral
parlors.”
“Brief Truly. She can call me if
she has any concerns.”
“Sure, Lou, but she’ll be all
right. She’s cold case, remember? She’s used to dead files and doing fuck all.”
“I take it she’s not within
earshot.”
“Please. Don’t be insulting.”
Pause. “She’s chatting up the funeral director. They make a real nice couple.”
Hank ended the call and glanced at
his watch: 11:26
a.m
.
“Peterson can spare one car,”
Martinez was telling the others. “Everything else is either tied up with the
motorcade and security around the funeral home, or covering the rest of the
district.” She looked at Perry. “We’re strapped for resources right now.”
“Detective Stainer’ll be there in under
five minutes,” Hank said. “That’s as good as sending in a company of marines.”
Stone took them on a tour of the
church. He explained the layout and described how access would be controlled.
They walked up the center aisle between the pews, looking at the stained glass
windows on either side of the nave. At the front, a man wearing jeans and a
white t-shirt ignored them, fussing with the microphones on the pulpit. Stone
led them through a door into a small room with an altar. It was a private
chapel, Stone explained. Another door took them through a passage and down into
the sacristy, where the sacraments and vestments were kept. Across the hall was
a small office for the use of the rector.