TWENTY

They sat in district commander Dan Boyle’s office. Molton said, “Dan, I’m not interested in cover-ups, emotion, and crap. I want my guys here to find out the facts, the truth, whatever it is and wherever it leads and to whomever it leads.”

“I just hope it doesn’t hurt us.” Boyle had a whiny voice maybe half an octave above tenor. His hefty frame rivaled Fenwick’s although he was at least three inches shorter than the detective.

“Cover-ups usually only make things worse,” Molton said.

Turner wondered how many clichés they would be forced to listen to. Commanders were an odd breed, and usually liked to avoid stepping on each other’s toes. Molton, however, was not like most Commanders. His bullshit quotient was low.

Boyle said, “Sure, sure, but these were good guys.” Boyle glanced meaningfully at Turner. “We can’t have cops attacking other cops.”

Molton asked, “Has someone filed a complaint about someone else?”

“No,” Boyle said.

Molton said, “Then I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”

Boyle pointed at Turner, “Your detective attacked a Chicago cop.”

“Produce a victim, witnesses, a report, and paperwork.”

“He attacked one of ours.”

Molton said, “Until you produce what you need to, you’re out of luck. Perhaps your guy attacked my guy. We’d need witnesses.”

“Maybe I can find some.”

Molton was up to the challenge. He said, “We could compare notes on our ability to find credible witnesses.”

The commanders exchanged glares. As the silence moved from uncomfortable to unbearable Boyle blurted out, “This is bullshit.”

Molton said, “I agree. We need you to tell us what you can about Callaghan and Belger.”

“The two of them just liked to let off steam. They were partners. I know they depended on each other. That’s what makes a good partner; someone who can be depended on. I don’t know what all that fuss over the bartender was about. Sometimes guys get out of control. So what? Nobody should have to go to jail or lose their job or anything.”

“Why wasn’t there a video recorder in the bar in the first place?” Molton asked.

“Lots of bars don’t have them. Certainly not a bar we go to.”

Turner knew lots of establishments in the city had added security cameras in the last few years.

“Did they know they were being recorded?” Molton asked.

“I have no idea.”

Turner said, “Wouldn’t it be logical to assume they would be recorded, especially in this day and age?”

Boyle said, “The Raving Dragon doesn’t have a camera. Most cop bars don’t. Maybe they didn’t remember where they were, or they didn’t figure it out. Or maybe they were stupid. Maybe they weren’t paying attention. Who thinks about a fucking cell phone taking pictures?”

Turner thought, in this day and age, anyone with any sense.

Molton asked, “How did the video get out?”

“The guy used his cell phone. He knew a reporter. He was probably planted by one of the media outlets. You know how crazy they get whenever a cop does the slightest thing wrong.”

Turner said, “Callaghan put the bartender in the hospital.”

Boyle said, “And I hear she’s thinking of dropping the charges. But the real problem is the guy who made the video. We think he’s got even more pictures or video on his cell phone.”

Turner knew they’d need to interview the guy, and they’d have to find the reporter.

Turner said, “We’ve talked to Belger’s ex-wife. She wasn’t fond of him.”

“Women these days,” Boyle said. “She’s an ex. What can you expect?”

Fenwick said, “Something these guys weren’t ready to give.”

“What’s that?” Boyle asked.

“Respect,” Fenwick said.

Boyle said, “People make all kinds of accusations that aren’t true. As cops, you know that better than most people.”

Turner said, “Nobody knew anything about his marital difficulties?”

Boyle said, “Cops have one of the highest divorce rates of any profession. You know that. If I listened to every marriage squabble among the guys, I’d never get anything done. I’m sure what Callaghan did in the bar or what Belger did to his wife wasn’t a big deal.”

“Have you seen the video?” Fenwick asked.

Boyle looked peeved.

Molton asked, “Did you ever hear about Belger and Callaghan tasering a suspect?”

“Never. I would never permit that in my district.”

His eyes shifted and Turner thought, he’s lying.

Boyle said, “Maybe the person who got tasered was a suspect accused of molesting little girls? Do you think I’d much care what happened to that kind of guy?”

Molton said, “Painful as it is, we treat all suspects alike. You know that. Our job is to make sure we’ve got a strong case against every kind of criminal.”

Boyle said, “I’ll keep my Boy Scout manual on my desk from now on.”

The Commanders exchanged another round of glares.

Molton broke the impasse. “Neither of their files mentions the incident with the bartender. Both of them should.”

“No one has access to the files.”

“Which is my point,” Molton said.

“I don’t know anything about the current state of their files.”

“Belger had a lot of complaints. Callaghan none.”

“So what?”

“Seemed odd,” Molton said.

Boyle shrugged.

Turner asked, “Did you know Belger appeared on a gay porn web site?”

“If I’d’ve known that, I’d have fired his ass,” Boyle said.

Turner said, “It was dedicated to people who liked to whip and get whipped.”

“Well, he was at that place last night. It wouldn’t have been hard to figure out.”

“You didn’t know about the web site?”

“No.”

“Nobody noticed or talked about it, came to you with gossip?”

By now Boyle’s face was bright red. This time his, “No,” came out as nearly a squeak.

Molton spoke up, “Either of these guys ever put in for a transfer?”

“No, and it wouldn’t have done any good. I don’t transfer people because they don’t get along. People learn to work together or they get fired.”

“Either of these guys in danger of getting fired?” Molton asked.

“Nope. Everybody in my command was a top-notch cop.”

Molton said, “We need to talk to the other guys on Belger’s and Callaghan’s shift.”

Boyle said, “I already did. None of the guys knows anything.”

Molton said, “My guys will need to interview them one at a time. You know how pissed the mayor gets when there’s police misconduct.”

This was true. The mayor went ballistic whenever charges against cops surfaced. Molton said, “I’ve got approval from high up.”

Boyle gave them a Karl Rove smirk. “Sure, talk to them. My men won’t be able to tell you much.”

Molton said, “We’ll let my guys try. And their cars won’t get keyed, or their tires slashed. Nobody’s going to be touched or bothered, or I’ll take it out of your ass, Danny boy.”

Boyle’s smirk changed to a slash of anger, but he held it in. Turner knew exactly what was going through Boyle’s mind. This was a politically volatile situation for cops at the command level. Make a mistake and demotions could happen fast. You didn’t get to the command level in the CPD without being able to play politics.

Molton said, “They’ll talk to the guys on the current shift, and they’ll probably have to come back again later. We want to catch everybody.”

Boyle objected, “Everybody didn’t know them.”

Molton said, “But we don’t know which everybody might have a clue.”

Boyle dropped his contrariness about the personnel interviews in his district and switched topics. “Are you going to shut down that stupid party?”

Molton said, “I have no plans to make that request.”

“You should. The place is dangerous.”

“How would you know?” Molton asked.

“There was a murder there. What else do I need to know?”

Molton said, “It’s more likely, if someone at the party had something to do with the killing, that if we leave it open, they’ll come back. You know, the killer always returns to the scene of the crime.”

Turner couldn’t remember which of the Commanders was ahead on clichés.

Before Molton left, the three of them stopped in the hallway for a moment. Molton said, “He was lying about the tasering.” The two detectives nodded. “You’d think I’d have at least heard something about that through the grapevine, but I haven’t. I’ll keep hunting for info. On the interviews be smart, be careful.”

“As always,” Fenwick said.

Molton glanced at his watch. It wasn’t six yet. “How many more interviews do you have after these cops?”

“Five or six at least,” Turner said.

“If you can, do them this morning. This one is hot and it’s not going away until you solve it. Sooner would be better.”

Turner recognized the urgency in the request. Except for people at Caruthers’ level of ability, Molton seldom gave direct orders. Turner understood Molton’s suggestion. It was going to be a long morning.