CHAPTER 64

 

7:41 p.m.

Davis held the photograph of the suspect loosely at his side, as he and Chris made their way to the car. Once inside, Chris tapped his fingers impatiently on the dashboard, waiting for his partner to speak.

“I doubt that we’re going to get an ID,” said Davis. “The only one who saw anything was that old lady next door to the Caruso apartment, and I really doubt that she’s credible. I say we pick up Richter now, and worry about the ID’s tomorrow.” Freitag knew his partner had good instincts. Besides the obvious evidence of the fingerprints, there was no doubting that Richter certainly had opportunity. After all, who wouldn’t let their neighborhood priest in?

“Oh, what the hell,” said Davis, glancing at his watch, “let’s show her the picture.”

“You got it!” said Chris.

 

In the first two minutes of the interview, the detectives learned the following: Mrs. Milam was a widow; had four children, and thirteen grandchildren; enjoyed Mahjong once a week; had recently lost twenty seven pounds; and hoped that she could help them “find that terrible man.”

Finally, Freitag had had enough. He placed his hand firmly on her somewhat flabby upper arm, and thrust the photograph in front of her face. “So, what do you think? Does this look like the man?” he asked.

The woman studied the picture carefully, all the while opening and closing her free hand nervously at her side. She frowned.

“What’s wrong?” asked Davis.

“Well, I’m not sure,” she said. “It could be him, but—”

Realizing that he was showing her a picture of a much younger Richter, Chris explained that the picture had been taken about ten years ago. “If you could, try picturing him older, you know, with gray hair and—”

The woman shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t know.”

“So, it’s not him?” said Chris.

“Oh, it could be,” said the woman. “It’s just that I’m not quite sure. I mean I’d hate to make a mistake.”

It was obvious to the two detectives that the woman hadn’t seen a thing. Like many widows who lived alone, she enjoyed the attention—even if it involved a murder case. For her, this was like a Friday night date. They thanked her politely, and left her standing in the dim light of the hallway.

 

The police radio chattered incessantly as the two detectives sat quietly in the front seat of the unmarked car; the white noise of the radio masking that of the passing weekend traffic.

Something was bothering Davis. “You know,” he said to his partner. “I’m starting to have second thoughts about this whole thing.”

“What do you mean?” asked Freitag.

“Maybe I’m too close—” said Matt.

“Shit, you know we can get a warrant,” said Chris. “The prints alone—”

“Yeah, I know we can get a warrant, but—”

“So, let’s get the warrant, and let’s go get the cock sucker.”

Davis scratched his head, considering his options. They could just get the warrant and go talk to the priest. Or, they could get the warrant, and make the arrest. Deep down inside he didn’t want to believe the man was guilty. But, he’d seen other cases like this one before: an innocent- looking wife, ultimately found guilty of bashing her husband’s head in with a clock; retired spinster school teacher poisoning her overbearing mother.

“Maybe you’re right,” said Matt. “Tell you what. Let’s run it by Foster. If he likes Richter, we’ll go with it.”

“Sounds good to me,” replied Chris. “If we go the warrant route, we ought to bring Martini, Wolinski, and Valdez along.”

“Give the three of ‘em a call when we get back to the station,” said Matt. “I’ll see if I can track down Foster.”

 

In a few minutes, they arrived at the precinct. Freitag headed for his office to phone the other members of the squad, while Matt hurried upstairs to Foster’s office. The lights were out, and he turned to head back down to his own office, when Davis heard Foster’s unmistakable baritone voice.

“Davis, is that you?” he called.

“Yeah, boss, I thought you were gone.”

“Nah,” said the Captain, “I’m just catching a few Z’s. I’m on a four to midnight.”

“Yeah,” said Matt. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Something happen?” asked his boss.

“I think we like somebody for the stranglings,” said Matt matter-of-factly.

Foster sat up straight in his chair, all evidence of sleepiness gone. He flipped on the light.

“Come again?” he said. He and Davis blinked their eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

“It’s weird,” said Davis. “You know I’ve been working with that priest down at St. Jude, right?”

“Yeah,” replied Foster. “He steer you to somebody?”

“I wish,” said Matt.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s him we like,” said Matt, quietly.

“Him, who?”

“The priest.”

“The priest? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I wish I was. You remember all those fingerprints belonging to a John Curran?”

Foster nodded in the affirmative.

“Well, for a while we hit a dead end. But we finally traced them all the way back to an assault and battery case in the sixties in Pennsylvania. That’s where Freitag and I went last week.”

“Okay, so what’s the connection?”

Davis spent the next ten minutes detailing the unraveling of the mystery concerning Richter, before Foster finally stopped him.

“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” he said. “Let’s get a warrant and pick the guy up.”

“Tonight?” asked Matt. He was still in denial.

“No time like the present,” said Foster. “I’m not giving this guy another chance. Get the rest of your people, and I’ll reach out to Judge Marcus in Manhattan South for a warrant. He owes me one.”

 

Davis grabbed the portable phone on his desk, and dialed his home number. Valerie looked at the caller ID on the phone, and answered on the first ring. “Hello, who is this?”

“You picked that phone up pretty quick, lady. Expecting somebody?” quipped Matt.

“Yeah, my secret lover boy.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint you,” he said. “But I’m afraid he’s going to be late.” Matt had promised to be home early, and it was already going on ten.

“How come?” asked Valerie, disappointment showing in the tone of her voice.

“He had a better offer,” said Matt, with a laugh.

Valerie was not amused. “Seriously, honey, you promised to come home early tonight. Can’t whatever it is wait?”

“I’m afraid not, Val. We had a real break in the case. You’ll never believe what happened.”

Valerie wanted to be as excited as Matt appeared to be, she really did. But all she felt now was disappointment. She took a deep breath, blowing the air out slowly between her pursed lips.

“Val?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” she said. Trying hard to sound excited, she said, “Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?”

“Remember what you said about it probably being some horny old priest?”

“Uh huh,” she replied.

“Well, you were right!”

Valerie sat up straight. Now she really was interested. “You’re kidding! Really?”

“Nope,” said Matt. “And you’ll never believe who we like.”

“Who?”

“Father Pete.”

“Father Pete? I don’t believe it! What made you suspect him?”

“We didn’t. You know how we went up to Glen Ellyn? Well, when we finally found Curran’s records, they showed that he had changed his name when he took his vows. Curran is Richter.”

“That’s incredible. So, what are you going to do, arrest him?”

“Yep,” said Matt. “Foster’s getting the warrant right now. Then we’re going over to St. Jude to make the collar.”

Valerie giggled. “That’s funny,” she said.

“What’s funny?” asked Matt.

“Oh, nothing. It’s silly—really. I just had this stupid thought – a little gallows humor.”

“Tell me,” he said.

“Well, it’s just that, you know, you’re going to make the collar—on the collar.”

“V-e-r-y funny.”

“Who would’ve ever thought it,” said Val. “I’m sorry it turned out to be him,” she said. “I know you kind of liked him and all.” Then, not wanting to dwell on the subject, she added, “I guess you’ll be late, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Any idea what time?”

“No clue. Even if everything goes perfect, it’ll be after midnight, maybe later.”

“Well, we’ll leave the light on for ya.” It was her standard line whenever Matt worked overtime.

“Thanks, honey,” he said. “But, seriously, don’t wait up, okay?”

“We’ll see.” Davis knew what that meant. No matter how late he came home, Val would always be waiting to greet him.

“I love you, Val,” he said.

“Love you, too, honey. Be careful.”

“I will,” said Matt. He hung up the phone just as Foster appeared in the open doorway.

“Okay, Matt,” he said. “We’re all set. Marcus came through for us. He’ll fax over the warrant in a couple of minutes.”

“Good. I’ll get the rest of my guys, and as soon as you’ve got the warrant we’ll go.” Davis buzzed Freitag. “Get a hold of Martini, Wolinski, and Valdez. Tell ‘em we’ll pick ‘em up on the way over to St. Jude.”