Where the Sun Sets (10 page)

“Fine. Fine. Barsky you said?”

“Yes, sir, that is correct, just a minute
sir.” Harold reached for his coffee while he waited. Empty. He set
the cup back down, just as a voice returned to the phone. “Sorry,
sir, she just stepped out of her office. Would you like to hold for
her?”

“No, that’s OK. I’ll call her back. Is there
a direct line or should I just dial the same number?”

“The number you have dialed is fine, sir.
Lieutenant Barsky is usually here well into the evening.”

“Thank you. Then I will call back later. Have
a nice day.”

The phone line was disconnected and Harold
hung up the receiver again. His eye’s passed over the last pile. He
inhaled deeply and decided to go to the kitchen for another cup of
coffee.

Chapter 9

New Haven was a quiet, New England community;
home to approximately fifty thousand households. Less than two
percent of the average yearly crimes dealt with murder or an
attempted murder. The story of the Dal Santo shooting was front
page news. Lieutenant Barsky had her morning paper in hand as she
entered the police station, as always, at nine A.M. The paper
however, she tossed on the top of her desk without thought when she
was beckoned to the holding cell on the lower level of the
building.

Grabbing a hot cup of coffee, Taylor Barsky
headed to the basement of her building. She was exhausted, as she
did not get much sleep the previous evening. Seasonal allergies
always took over her sleep patterns. Somehow she always managed to
get a sinus infection in the fall and once the infection showed up,
sleep all but left the county. Her throat was sore, and she could
not swallow without pain. Talking was tricky.

Down in the holding cell was the local town
drunk. Taylor thought how sad it was that every town just had to
have one. Charlie Daniels was his real name. His parents must have
had it in for him from the get go. With a name like that, Taylor
was surprised more on the days he wasn’t occupying her cell than on
the days that he was. Charlie wasn’t a bad person. He just never
had anyone to take care of him. And he was never very good at it
alone. He was a lonely man who sought company in bars. He never
hurt anyone or stole anything. He wasn’t really all that good at
being a drunk either. He usually passed out before he left the bar
stool.

“Lieutenant?” Taylor hadn’t realized she had
stopped in front of the cage and had been staring at the sleeping
Charlie. She was brought out of her daze and into the basement.

“Patrick, good morning. What was it you
needed from me?”

“Simmers, down at the pub, he mentioned a
stranger coming in last night.”

“And...”

“Well, he felt as if he knew the man. He
mentioned the guy made him feel uncomfortable.”

“Patrick, Simmers is what, about eighty five
or so? If a midnight blue seventies Cadillac cruises past his
place, he feels uncomfortable. Why is it that you feel I should be
concerned?” Taylor wasn’t using a reprimanding tone, just a
parental, please explain tone.

“I don’t know, Lieutenant, it’s just with the
Ferrero thing and all...”

“Ferrero, ah, I see. OK, well did you take
down any details? Did you get a composite?”

“No ma`am, I had to bring Charlie back before
he puked all over the back seat.”

Taylor had to chuckle, in spite of herself.
“All right Patrick, why don’t you call Jed upstairs and send him
over to pick up Simmers. Bring him down here and see what the top
artist from the graduating class of 2002 can come up with. Anything
else?”

Charlie moaned in the cage. He was about
another thirty minutes from standard awake zone. “On his way back,
have him stop by McCluscky’s and grab Charlie a breakfast
sandwich.”

Patrick glanced over at Charlie, then back to
the Lieutenant. “Sure thing boss.” And that was the end of the
basement visit. Just about the extent of the usual daily
excitement.”

On the way back up the staircase to her
office, Taylor passed the entrance doors. They looked out to the
main street in town. The morning had started off gray, but now the
sun was bright and the sky was blue. Such a contrast to the way she
was feeling. Up yet another flight of stairs to the main floor and
off to the right for her office. Hoping she had brought some sinus
medication with her she searched for her handbag. The light on her
office phone blinked. Her phone did not ring; she had it set like
that because she hated interruptions of any sort. She walked to her
desk to answer the phone and set her bag down on top of the
forgotten newspaper. The only part of the paper left showing was
the section with the story concerning the Ferraro’s past
stalkers.

“Lieutenant Barsky here.”

“Morning Lieutenant. Just checking in.
Nothing serious happening here this morning. A few reporters camped
out over night, but Billy swatted them away like flies about an
hour ago. Want Sam and I to stay on or come in and regroup?”

“You have been out there since eight last
night?”

“Six ma`am, I stayed while George went back
to the hospital and Sam took Billy back to base to fill out the
report. Sam came back around eight I think.”

“All right. Come on in, both of you. I’ll
expect to see you in my office in fifteen.”

“Right. See you then.” Taylor picked up a pen
and tapped it against her lips as she sat back thoughtfully in her
seat. Gazing up at her clock she mentally noted the time. It was
nine twenty.

Sitting up again, she went back into her
handbag in search of her medication. Finding it, she stood to get a
cup of water with which to swallow the pills. As she did so her eye
caught the article, peeking out from under her bag. She moved it
aside and picked up the paper. She read the article as she walked
to the water dispenser. Pulling out a paper cup she accidently
dropped her pills into the trash can sitting alongside the
dispenser. Looking to the heavens in despair she tossed the cup
into the trash. She glanced down to the article and read a few
lines regarding Ms. Ferrero.

“Those familiar with the name, remember well
the Ferrero family fortune. Creating the one of the largest wine
companies in America, the family has employed hundreds of
immigrants throughout its history. In the sixties, the Ferrero’s
niece was abducted and taken away to Mexico. The kidnappers
requested 2.5 million dollars for her safe return but no ransom was
ever paid. Her body was found three days later in the desert. The
police report claimed the child bled to death after having several
organs removed. She had been dropped in the desert while still
alive for the animals to devour. The suspects were never
apprehended.”

Tap tap tap. The guys were back. Seeing
Taylor look up from her paper, Sam opened the door and the two
officers, both in their early twenties, stepped into the
office.

“Morning, Lieutenant.” offered Michael.

“Good morning gentlemen, have a seat. Let’s
get this over with so you can go home and get some sleep.” Her
throat was starting to dry out. “Either of you read the morning
paper?” Both of the officers shook their heads no. “Who wants to
give me a short version of what happened.”

Sam gave a brief description of the events
leading up to the shooting, the arrival of the ambulance and the
reports taken.

“Hang on a minute. You said Billy came in and
filled out the reports, correct?” Sam nodded in agreement. “Billy,
the bouncer?”

“Yes, ma`am, that’s right. Both Ms. Ferrero
and Ms. Dal Santo were taken to St. Bart’s.”

“Both women were shot?”

“No, as it says in the report, Ms. Dal Santo
was shot four times. Ms. Ferrero received an injury on her
forehead.”

Lieutenant Barsky leaned forward in her
chair. She locked her eyes with Sam’s. “Do you see a report here?”
She motioned with her arms over her desk. “I did not ask what was
in the report, did I.” Taylor swallowed with difficulty. “Look,
what I want to know is this. What was your impression when you
arrived at the scene? How were the women both mentally and
physically? I don’t want some washed up Chippendale wanna be to
tell me what you get paid to see. I want it written in your own
words and on my desk by noon today.” She sat back and took measure
of the quiet officer. “Michael, what did you see?”

“Ma`am,” he started. Taylor could not tell if
he was nervous or just tired. “We arrived on the scene, just before
the ambulance. Some of the guests directed us to where the women
were. Both were on the ground. Ms. Ferrero was sitting up and being
helped to her feet. I got the impression she was in shock. She
didn’t seem to know where she was at first. And she could not
answer questions. It was as if she could not hear us.”

Taylor nodded her head for him to
continue.

“Ms. Dal Santo was lying on the ground. I
approached her as the stretcher was brought down. She was bleeding
a lot. I saw two entrance points. One in her shoulder and another
in her abdomen.” Taylor raised her eyebrows with concern.

Before Mike could respond she added, “And you
said four times, correct?”

“Yes ma`am, hard for me to say for sure. I
didn’t see any of the other wounds. That’s what the paramedic
reported.” Taylor nodded again in understanding. “The other two
were not visible from my angle.” He seemed to go pale in Taylor’s
view. “I saw the wound in her right shoulder.” He pointed to his
own shoulder for a reference point. The other hit her in the
stomach.” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “That one
was...well it was...bleeding badly.” Taylor started to feel sorry
for the man.

“Where was Billy when you got there
Michael?”

“Ma`am?”

“Billy, the bouncer, the guy who filled out
the report. Where was he when you arrived? Or when you left? Or at
any time in between?”

“I never saw him ma`am. I did hear Ms. Dal
Santo ask for him though.”

“Ms. Dal Santo? What did she say? When?”

“She came to for a moment. She was in a lot
of pain. I mean, I heard her say, ‘It hurts real bad’, while she
was holding her stomach.” He closed his eyes tightly again and
seemed to drift off.

“Mike?” He opened his eyes and shook his head
to chase away the memory. “Sorry, ma`am. Ms. Dal Santo, well
she...she paid my way through school ma`am. I am sorry, I just
got...I heard her say, ‘Where the hell was Billy?’”

“Was? She used the word was? You’re certain
of this?”

“Yes, she was whispering, you know, speaking
real soft, like she didn’t have the strength. But just before she
passed out, she asked Bernie where Billy was and it came out clear,
like she summoned all her strength to get the words out.”

“Bernie the Ballerina?” Michael nodded his
head in agreement.

“And where was he?” She looked at both men
but wanted Mike to answer.

“I never saw him. When Ms. Dal Santo asked
the question, I automatically scanned the yard with my eyes. But I
never found him.”

Taylor turned her gaze to Sam. “You brought
Billy here to fill out the reports?”

“Yes. Yes I did.”

“Where did you find him?”

“I turned around and he was standing right
behind me.”

“And where were you at the time?”

“I was checking the house.” Taylor put her
head in her hands as she rested her elbows on her desk. “Where was
Billy when the shots were fired?”

“Would you like me to get the reports for
you?”

“Excuse me? Would I what?” She didn’t want to
get angry at this man but she was not feeling well and he was
pushing her buttons.

“Look, Michael, why don’t you go home and get
some sleep. Be back in by nine and then take a car out to the
house. Camp out there till six. If nothing is off cue, then we will
go a different route. Sammy...you go get the report, and you read
it. Read it a couple times and find what is missing. From what I
have just heard and no, I haven’t read the report yet, but just
from what the two of you have said, I can guarantee you’re going to
have to do a lot of rewriting. And what about Ms. Ferrero? No one
questioned her at all? Why? Where is she now? What is the current
condition of the Dal Santo woman? Was anyone on duty last night or
were you all just party crashers?” Taylor waved her hand signaling
them to leave her.

Once again she picked up the paper and looked
at the photo of the woman. One photo of the two of them together.
Taylor felt they could have passed for sisters. Their hair color
and the color of their eyes were different. The shapes of their
noses differed. But the shapes of their heads, their cheek bones.
The way they carried themselves. Their smiles were very much the
same. Taylor had guessed that the woman probably spoke in much the
same tone. Probably had the same sounding voice. To Taylor, they
looked like two sides of the same coin. This was going to be a long
day. She was sure of it. She looked up to her clock and mentally
noted the time. It was ten A.M. Taylor dropped her head into her
folded arms on the desk. Oh, it was going to be a long day and she
felt like shit. Taylor thought, “Where was Billy?” as she pushed
herself away from her desk. She would need to know the answer to
that question before the hour was through.

Chapter 10

Dr. Kessler was finishing up for the day.
Dropping off the last clip board in his possession, he said his
goodbyes and prepared to leave. For a moment he paused for thought
and then turned around and headed towards the office of the Chief
of Staff. He knocked gingerly on the door.

“Come in.” He checked his appearance before
entering.

“Morning, Luke, how’s the patient?”

“Can I assume you are referring to the
gunshot victim?”

“Yes, Antonia or Anthony something. Josephine
Ferrero’s friend.”

“Ah, so your interest lies beyond the
surgery?”