Serpe was already in and had mapped out the routes for the day by the time Bob Healy strolled into the office.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Healy said. “I got something to tell you.”
“I doubt it’s as big as what I’ve got to tell you.”
“Nothing like a pissing contest first thing in the morning to get your blood going, huh?”
“Fine,” Joe said, reaching into his pocket. “Heads or tails?”
“Tails.”
“I knew you were gonna pick tails. You’ve gotta be contrary.”
“Flip it and shut up.”
Serpe flicked his thumb and the quarter jumped. Healy swiped it out of the air with his right hand, smacked the coin down on the back of his left hand, and lifted his right palm.
“Tails, it is,” he said, showing it to Serpe. “But I’m feeling generous today, so you go ahead.”
“Okay. Don’t use truck number four for any reason at all for the next few days.”
“That’s your big news, huh, that number four is out of service?”
“No. The reason it’s out of service is the big news.”
“And that reason would be.”
“There’s a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars in the tank.”
“Get the fuck out—” Healy stopped himself when he saw the expression on Serpe’s face. “Holy shit! You’re not kidding, are you?”
“No. Let me ask you something about Rusty Monaco. From what you said, I take it that you investigated the shit out of him.”
“More than any other cop with the possible exception of you,” Healy said.
“Talk about a dubious fucking honor, but let’s forget that for now. Was Monaco a thief?”
“We never investigated him for—”
“That’s not what I’m asking you, Bob. Was Monaco a thief?”
“I don’t think so, no. In his way, he was like you.”
“Jesus, partner, you’re just making my day.”
“What I mean is, I never got the feeling he was on the job to line his pockets. Don’t get me wrong, as far as I’m concerned, he should have never made it out of the academy. He might’ve beaten the shit outta somebody for putting too much sugar in his coffee, especially if they were black, but he wouldn’t have taken the coffee for free.”
“I thought you were gonna say that. Problem is, for a guy who didn’t take stuff on the arm, he died owning a condo in Florida that neither of us could afford and he left his sister a hundred and twenty five grand. Better yet, neither the money nor the condo was in the will,” Serpe said, noticing a grin on Healy’s face. “What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing, except that maybe what I’ve got to tell you has something to do with what you just told me. Blades—Detective Hines called me. Seems that the people who put the access block on Monaco’s NYPD files work for the city DOI.”
“What would the Department of Investigation want with a retired detective?”
“That’s the same question that popped into my head when she told me. She says she’s got friends inside DOI, so maybe she’ll get back to me today. Somehow, I get the impression that Monaco having a hundred and a quarter large and the DOI blocking access to his files are not unconnected.”
“You’re a suspicious bastard.”
“Just my nature, but I never let my suspicions get ahead of the facts,” Healy said. “I got pretty far by following the evidence where it took me, not by where I thought it should go.”
“One thing, though, before we get too wrapped up in this. I was thinking last night that the money and the condo are all very interesting, but that’s not why Monaco was killed. He was robbed and murdered because he drove an oil truck down the wrong dark street in the wrong neighborhood on the wrong night, not because he owned a condo he couldn’t swing or had a bag full of cash.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean, maybe?” Serpe asked.
“I mean maybe. You weren’t the only one doing some thinking last night. After I spoke with Blades, I tried to get some things straight in my head. Look, Alberto Jimenez was killed because he had cash in his pocket and he was a target of convenience, but his murder wasn’t directly connected to the other four, not really.”
“Yeah, okay, I’m with you so far.”
“I was thinking that maybe the other four murders were connected, but not in the obvious ways. Sure, on the surface they all seem like robberies where the perpetrator killed the victims so there’d be no witnesses. But I got this crazy idea in my head that maybe they were homicides first and—”
“—robberies second,” Serpe said.
“Right. That there was only one intended target and that the other robberies and homicides were window dressing done just to throw off the cops.”
“Like that sniper asshole from a few years back who killed the guy through the diner window in Commack and who shot that kid in the fast food joint in order to set up another murder. That’s a pretty big leap there, partner. What happened to following the evidence?”
“I said it was a possible, that we should keep it in mind, not that I was sure about it. Besides, you’d have to be some sick calculating bastard to kill three innocent men just to kill a fourth.”
“Sick, yeah, or desperate. After the shit I saw in narcotics, Bob, I have no trouble believing that desperation could drive a person to do anything. How far someone will go can be a function of how desperate they are, but let’s follow your prescription and follow the evidence where it goes.”
“Sounds nice,” Healy agreed, “but until we get the Suffolk PD reports on the homicides, we won’t have much evidence to follow.”
“Leave that to me,” Serpe said. “I think I’ve got an idea how to lay our hands on ‘em.”
“This I gotta see.”
“Forget that for now. You know Finnbar McCauly?”
“I was in Internal Affairs, not shipwrecked with Gilligan and the Skipper, for chrissakes. Everyone in the department knew McCauly. Why you want to know that?”
“He was at the reading of Monaco’s will. I guess they musta been partners once.”
“A very important once.”
Serpe screwed up his face. “You just lost me.”
“When that black kid took the tumble off the roof in Brooklyn, McCauly was Monaco’s partner.”