Chapter 31

Jake’s gut told him Kyra was in deep trouble, yet she acted like it was nothing. Didn’t she trust him by now? Once again, whenever she was in trouble it reverted back to the casino. Which reverted back to Phil Lucci. He’d been calling to cancel on her tonight until he heard Dillon threatening her. Kyra had to have picked up on the deep hatred in the man’s voice, because Jake had and he didn’t even know the guy. What was that about? And why was she there, at the casino, in the middle of the day? He had assumed she had given it up. All he had were questions with no answers.

Kyra had the answers. But she wasn’t sharing. He’d get to the bottom of it before she became one of his murder victims. His desk phone rang. Jake grabbed on the second ring when he recognized the extension for the state lab in Farmington.

“Jake, it’s Tom Jones from the state lab.” The guy took serious ribbing over his name. The idiot got drunk at the last Christmas party and sang his heart out—tone deaf bastard.

“What’s up?”

“I did the blood work on Stack. He had poison in his system. A poison you don’t see often,” said Jones.

“What was it?”

“Strychnine.”

“McCoy at the M.E.’s office guessed it right at the scene.”

“I’d guess the killer’s a reader. Mystery writers of days gone by loved to use it. The thing is, Jake, someone wanted him to suffer, and suffer he did with the amount he had in his system. It was an over-the-top kill. Dead the minute he ingested it.”

“Wait, you said it took ten to twenty minutes to kill?”

“It does. What I mean is once he ingested the high dosage he was the walking dead. It took his body time catch up.”

“Thanks, Tom. Email me a hard copy. I owe you one.”

The cause of death was extreme. Stack had pissed off someone. But who? Jake opened his email, printed out the lab results, and headed down to Missing Persons. He needed to interview each and every one of his detectives who’d worked with Stack. It wasn’t going to be fun.

A group of detectives stopped talking when he entered the bullpen. Jake understood their resentment, but he didn’t care. He had a job to do.

“Listen up. I got the tox report back on Carl. It’s not good. He was poisoned.” Jake looked around him as he took in the expression on each of their faces.

“The poison used was strychnine, which caused extreme pain in the vic—I mean Carl.” Jake waited out the murmurs before he continued. “I’m going to interview each of you to see if you knew what Carl had been working on or if he had complained about any threats. Any one of you who wants in on this is welcome to participate, though you need to understand the state police consider this their case and their jurisdiction. Physically it is, but Carl was one of us, and we’ll work this until we get him justice. Understood?”

“Lieutenant, I’m in, and I’m sure everyone else is too,” Detective Joe Green said as he looked around the squad room. “Are the state police going to share?”

“The sergeant in charge said yes,” Jake replied. “I’ll set up in my temporary office down here. Detective Green, I’ll start with you.” Jake turned toward their old lieutenant’s office. The detectives’ groans and whispers behind his back irked him.

Green walked into the office and shut the door without being told. He looked as though he had something to say before they began. Jake waited him out.

“Lieutenant, we’ve all heard of your reputation. Some of us even know you, but Carl was ours. We heard you were investigating him and threw him to the rats in Internal Affairs. Is that true?” Green stood at attention, every muscle in his face taut.

“Take a seat, Green. Whether Stack was being investigated or not won’t interfere with the investigation into his death. And to answer your question, no, I did not turn him in to Internal Affairs.”

Jake stared him down while he spoke. Green still stood. Jake gestured to the chair, again he waited him out. Green sat, his back straight, at attention.

“I’m serious about wanting in on the investigation.”

“I understand that, Joe. Can you be objective?”

Green studied Jake for a few minutes. “Objective how?”

“You might not like where the investigation leads.”

Jake scanned the office—he hadn’t done anything to it because it was a temporary assignment. And if the brass officially melded the two divisions, Missing Persons’ didn’t need as large of a staff as it had now. Damn, the last lieutenant had not filed a report in five years. The paper clutter on the desk gave him a headache. He directed his gaze back to Green.

“Well, Joe?”

“Carl was a loner. He never socialized with anyone in the department. He had his own agenda, but he was a solid detective. You’re saying he was dirty?”

“No.” Jake didn’t elaborate.

“But you’re not saying he’s clean?”

“Same answer.”

“What are you saying, Lieutenant?” Green made “Lieutenant” sound like a curse.

“I’m saying Detective Stack’s death gets every consideration, as any other homicide does, and more, because he was one of us. If there’s an investigation into his practices, that wouldn’t play into the homicide investigation—unless his dealings with undesirables are the reason he’s dead.”

Green nodded. “I’m in.”

They shook hands across the desk. Jake ran through each interview with precision. He found out a lot about Stack and his personality from Green and the other detectives, but nothing about his actions. Not everyone was forthcoming because of the rumors of the potential IA investigation. Green had contemplated his words and came around after a bit, but the rest treated him like a traitor and were noncommittal. One even refused to answer questions without his union rep being present. Detective Carrusso deserves watching.

The phone rang. He didn’t even get a chance to greet the caller. “Jake, Sergeant McDermott here. We’ve found a witness who saw Stack leaving a bar on Route 16.”

“Excellent. Didn’t we conduct interviews at all the bars this afternoon?” Jake held up a hand as Detective Green walked into his office. Shit, I should learn to close my door. Jake listened to McDermott, took notes, then paused as he tapped his pencil on the desk.

“I’ll be there in about fifty minutes depending on traffic.” Jake hung up and turned to Green. “What’s up?”

“New leads on Stack?”

“Yeah. Close the door.” After reading Detective Green’s jacket, Jake had decided to use him in the investigation.

“I don’t want this to get around. Trooper Sergeant McDermott found a witness putting Stack at a bar around noon.”

“You’re not going to tell the other guys?”

“Nope. I’m sharing with you because I’m going to make you the lead detective with me on this. No one but you will be privy to this until I deem it necessary to share with the rest of the department. Understood?”

“Yes…I mean no. You don’t believe someone in this department killed him, do you?”

Green’s quick. “No, this is how we run a homicide investigation, Green. It’s on a need-to-know basis. Also, the witness doesn’t want to be identified. She’s scared.” He’d call Louie later to explain why he was using Green instead of him.

Green nodded.

“Grab your jacket. We’re heading out.”

Traffic was light. Forty-five minutes later they approached the strip mall where the witness worked. Green had said little while they drove. Jake glanced over at Joe. Green’s face was a study in concentration. Had he made the right decision, using Green on this case, or was he too close to the victim? Jake hated when he second-guessed himself. As they pulled into the parking lot, Green spoke for the first time.

“You never answered my question before. Was Stack dirty?”

Jake looked over at Green, made direct eye contact, and decided to take a chance. “Yes.”

“Jesus.” Green wiped his brow.

“If you’re not comfortable working the investigation let me know, because you’ll take heat if he is, I mean was, and we expose it.”

“I can take the heat. I hate dirty cops,” Green spit out. “I will tell you, he was weird.”

“How so?”

“He never wanted to work with a partner. Balked when ordered to on a case. On different occasions he’d get a phone call. He’d tell the caller he was busy and he’d hang up. After a few minutes he’d leave the squad room with his cell phone and step outside the building. It always made me curious.” Green scratched his head.

A good cop with good instincts, glad I trusted him. “I might be wrong. His last case file isn’t jelling for me.”

“How so?” Joe Green asked. His brown eyes inquisitive as he unbuttoned his jacket.

Jake ran through the Church case with Green. Joe didn’t respond. After a long period of silence, Jake asked, “Well?”

“He never followed procedure. That in and of itself doesn’t mean much, but I can’t fathom why he didn’t interview any of the neighbors or process the scene. He was a solid investigator. My gut says he didn’t want it solved. Right?” Green turned and faced Jake.

“That’s my take.”

Jake climbed out of the car, waited for Green to join him. Together they approached the Treasured Things shop. The bell overhead rang as they entered a shop cluttered with delicate items. A petite woman with jet-black hair stood behind the cash register. Jake put her at close to fifty. He looked around for McDermott. Not seeing him, he dialed McDermott’s cell. Cal answered on the second ring.

“It’s Jake Carrington, we’re at the store. Do you want us to wait for you?”

“No, I already interviewed her and emailed you my notes. I thought you’d want a shot at her alone. Her name’s Joyce Swisher.”

Subtle. McDermott kept him in the loop, but delayed the information. Jake didn’t begrudge him. He would’ve played it the same way.

“Thanks, Cal.”

Jake interviewed the clerk, who turned out to be the owner of the store. She said Stack had parked toward the street at the end of the lot, although many spaces were available in front of the bar. After a few minutes, he pulled out of the parking lot. Minutes later, she walked out back to throw out some garbage and noticed his vehicle behind the building. He was casing the place—her words—and she planned to call the police. As she reached for her cell phone, he left. She went back inside. A customer distracted her when she re-entered her store. Stack was forgotten until she was interviewed by the state police and heard about the accident.

“Lieutenant, that’s all I know. It’s horrible he had to die, but he wasn’t acting right. If I had just called he might be alive…”

“Did you see him enter the bar?” Jake asked.

“No, sir, I didn’t. I never saw him again,” Swisher said.

“Were there any other cars out back you didn’t recognize?”

“No.”

“Thanks for your time, Mrs. Swisher.”

“It’s Miss, Lieutenant.” She gave him a full smile while she patted her hair.

The woman was flirting with him. It took all kinds. With a tight smile he walked out of the store with Green. “Not a word, Detective. Understood?”

Jake detected a smile on Green’s face but let it go.

“Yes, sir,” Green said.

“What did you learn?”

“That Stack was nervous about his meeting, and he didn’t trust whoever that was.”

Jake nodded at him. Green was smart. He climbed in the car, waited for Green to do the same. “Why here?”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Call me Jake. I said why here? What significance does this place hold? Green, sorry, Joe. Do you prefer Green or Joe?”

“Either works, Lieu—Jake. You want me to run the place, see who owns it?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Green pulled out his laptop and started the search. Jake drove out of the parking lot and headed back to Wilkesbury. He slowed down where Stack’s skid marks showed him crossing the road and pointed it out to Joe.

By the time they reached Wilkesbury, Green had the data on his laptop that Jake had requested. Efficient.

“It’s owned by a holding company, called Limited Holding, LLC,” Joe said, as they sat in Jake’s car in the police garage.

“Run it deeper. I want all the names of all the principals involved in the business,” Jake said. “Also…” Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he added, “Run all businesses that are held by that company. Let’s see how deep their pockets are.”

* * * *

In the lobby of the station, they broke off. He headed to Homicide. Green headed over to Missing Persons. The low-grade headache he’d been fighting off all day intensified when he got a load of the pile of paperwork on the desk, waiting for his attention. The hours in the day didn’t triple, though his work load had. It was well after five when he checked his watch. He cursed and called Kyra.

“Kyra, I need to push back our dinner to around eight thirty, is that good with you?”

“If you need to cancel, I’m fine with it.” Not getting out of it this time, Kyra.

“No, I’m going to be late. We need to talk.”