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Detective Todd sat in his congested cubicle on the second floor of the 35th police precinct at Broad and Champlost Streets. There had been a spike of murders over the past week, and the additional cases that were being assigned to him were beginning to take a toll. He and Latrice decided to work close, long and hard to bring closure to some of the open cases.
For the moment, their focus was on the triple shooting/double homicide that occurred at 1463 Upsal Street. They discovered that Antwon Green, from Syracuse, New York leased the house where the shooting occurred. According to the landlord, he had lived there for seven months. The second murder victim, the man who was believed to have been killed while trying to rob Antwon, was identified as Cornell Watts. He had an extensive record, including drug possession, armed robbery and assault. Cornell was also a suspect in an unsolved robbery/homicide that occurred two and a half years ago.
Reek had undergone his third surgery. The hospital contacted Todd earlier that day to inform him that although his condition was still listed as critical, he was stable and coherent enough to endure a brief conversation. So far, Reek was their biggest hope to solve the crimes.
Latrice walked into her brother’s cubicle carrying a small stack of papers. “The records to Tyreek Simmons’ cell phone came in.”
“Great. Let’s see who was so important that Mr. Simmons felt compelled to call him while shot.”
“I already checked it out. The call was placed to a man named, Terry Maddox.”
“Okay. I’ll run his name through the database to see what comes up.”
“I did that too,” Latrice gloated.
“Well, damn, sis. What do you need me for?”
“Batman had a sidekick. I guess Wonder Woman needs one, too.”
Todd sucked his teeth at her snide remark. Latrice took a seat, placed the paper on the edge of his desk, and thumbed through them until she found the printout.
Latrice’s eyes were fixed on the paper as she spoke. “His record isn’t too bad. He had a criminal sales of a controlled substance when he was sixteen. He received a youthful offender adjudication for that. He was arrested for attempted murder five years ago, but the charge was eventually dismissed.”
“So it’s either he’s not doing much now-a-days, or he’s been slipping through the cracks,” Todd commented.
“I’m leaning more towards the latter. I dug a little deeper and found that he’s the co-owner of Dynasty Luxury Rentals.”
Todd’s eyebrows creased while trying to put the few pieces together. He Googled the company, then visited its website. “Wow.” His eyes widened as he took in what the monitor displayed. “This isn’t some nickel and dime business. Every car that they rent is exotic. Someone invested some major money into that place.” Todd clicked through every page of the website. “It’s located on Passyunk Avenue in South Philly.”
“I think we need to have a talk with this guy,” Latrice said.
Todd shut the computer off. “The last one to the car has to drive.” Without saying a word, Latrice shot out of the cubicle and dashed toward the elevator.
––––––––
Todd pulled the Chevy Impala into the parking lot of Dynasty Luxury Rentals. The police-issued cruiser stuck out like a sore thumb among all the other beautiful automobiles. Latrice and Todd exited their sedan, and casually examined a few vehicles. They did their best not to gawk, before they walked inside the building.
The lavish waiting room complimented the theme of the business. Bright white walls were adorned with artistic paintings of beautiful cars and an eighty inch, flat screen smart TV. Plush, black, Italian leather chairs were strategically placed around the room. An elegant glass table held an assortment of car and luxury magazines. It didn’t take long before an attractive, young white lady approached them.
“Welcome to Dynasty Luxury Rentals. My name is Kerri. How may I help you?” she asked with an infectiously polite and upbeat attitude.
“I’m Detective Latrice Reed, and this is Detective Todd Reed. We’re homicide detectives.” Latrice produced her badge, then placed it back on her waist next to her holstered firearm. The cops maintained eye contact with Kerri as her smile dissipated. “Is Mister Terry Maddox in?”
Kerri took a half step backwards, looking at the detectives as if they had morphed into a pair of scary creatures. “Y-yes,” she stammered, “one moment, please.” Kerri turned around and walked off.
It didn’t take long before Terry emerged from his rear office impeccably dressed in a charcoal gray Brooks Brothers suit. “Good afternoon. I’m Terry. How can I help you?” He shook hands with the detectives.
The detectives introduced themselves. Todd was the first to speak. “We’re investigating a double homicide and shooting that occurred on Upsal Street. Do you mind coming down to the station so we can ask you a few questions?”
“I don’t mind you asking me a few questions, but is it a must that I go down to the station? I’m the only one in charge who’s here at the moment.”
“This really won’t take long. It’s standard procedure to conduct any in depth questioning of possible witnesses at the station.” Latrice did her best to make her explanation sound harmless.
“So that everything I say can be recorded?” Terry asked, but it came across as more of a statement.
“Well, yes,” Todd answered truthfully.
“Okay. Let me make a call so I can get someone to take over while I’m gone.” Terry walked over to the secretary’s desk and called Mack. He explained what was going on, and asked him to come down to the business. After hanging up, he returned to the detectives who appeared not to have moved an inch since he first left them. “Are you guys ready?”
“Sure.”
They walked casually to the police cruiser. On the outside Terry appeared to be cool and calm. However, on the inside, he was as nervous as a fat man on a tightrope. Along the ride to the precinct, Todd and Latrice created casual conversation. Terry interacted seamlessly with them, but the core of his thoughts were on the interrogation that lay ahead. He was a prominent drug dealer in Philadelphia. He had used the proceeds from his joint drug operation with his friend and partner, Mack, to create a lucrative legitimate business.
But Terry knew that their main focus would not be on how he obtained the business. After all, they were homicide detectives.
Worry settled in as the vision of the twins’ murders, he and Mack committed played through his mind. A homicide detective’s job was to uncover evidence. He sensed that he wasn’t dealing with a pair of rookies. What did they know?
The ride came to an end, along with the conversation. Terry was escorted inside the building and into a small room that had a cheap metal desk and three uncomfortable metal folding chairs. The despair of the room begged for any visitors to hurry and leave. They left him in solitude for awhile, but Terry knew he wasn’t completely alone in that chamber. Nestled in the upper corner of the wall was a tiny video camera. Without making direct eye contact with the camera, Terry removed his suit jacket, placed it on the back of the chair, and waited patiently.
Todd entered the room carrying a few files. Latrice was behind him with two cups of steaming coffee in her hands.
“Would you like some coffee?” she asked.
“No. Thank you,” Terry declined.
“Cigarette?” Latrice asked.
“No, I don’t smoke.”
“Okay, Terry.” Todd let out a deep sigh and took a seat opposite him. Latrice followed suit. “Let’s get to why you were asked to come down here. We’re investigating the murder of Antwon Green and the shooting of Tyreek Simmons. Can you tell us what, if anything, you know about this?”
“Antwon was a good friend of mine that I’ve known since I lived in Syracuse. I met Reek through Twan. He’s a cool, young man that I took a liking to.”
“Do you have any idea why they were targeted?” Latrice asked.
“No.”
“What are the streets saying?”
“I don’t know. I’m not in the streets.”
“Come on, man. I’m not convinced by the expensive suit and your fancy business. Those guys were in the street life and I know you have ties to the streets as well. Do I look like I was fucking born yesterday?” Todd’s voice escalated, signifying his mounting frustration.
“Listen, Mr. Reed. If you want to ask me about what happened to my friends, feel free. But if you brought me down here to accuse me of all this other bullshit, you’ll have to do that while my lawyer is present.” Terry’s words came out even and filled with confidence. His face showed no signs of intimidation.
His reply was a strong gush of wind pushing Todd back in his chair.
Todd was unable to conceal his vexation. “Do you know that Tyreek tried to call you while shot?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he think to call you, as opposed to the cops, or even his mother?” Latrice asked.
“He really looked up to me. I let him hang out with me at my business over the past couple of weeks. I wanted to show him my way of life. I promised that if he proved he wanted to work, I would give him a job. I know he thinks highly of me. That would be my only guess as to why he tried to call me.”
The questioning continued, but they obtained little to no additional information to aide their investigation. There was no doubt in their minds that Terry knew more than he was willing to tell. The problem was there was nothing that could be done about it. Todd handed Terry his card and asked him to give him a call if he heard anything. Terry falsely promised that he would. They offered him a ride back to his business. He respectfully declined and called a friend to pick him up.
“So, where do we go from here?” Todd asked.
“To the hospital. Let’s see what Tyreek has to say.”
––––––––
The Reed detectives entered Einstein Hospital, spoke to the doctors who were responsible for the care of Reek, and the security. Afterwards, they entered his room.
Tyreek was conscious, but it was evident that prescribed medication had him heavily sedated.
Latrice approached the bed looking at the slender, baby-faced, young man who lay helplessly in the hospital bed with nothing but a thin white hospital gown partially covering his body. A sense of sadness came over her. She just couldn’t come to grips with why young men and women risked permanently damaging, or losing their lives, chasing a dream that would never be caught.
The doctors had informed them that Reek lost approximately ninety percent of the use of his lower body. It would take months, possibly years, of rehabilitation before the likelihood of any noticeable signs of improvement would occur.
“Good morning, Mr. Simmons,” Latrice said.
“Morning.” Reek mumbled. He turned his head and cracked his eyes open just enough to get a peek at the two figures standing at the side of his bed.
Todd delivered his routine introduction, then asked if it was okay to question him.
“Law-yer,” Reek forced the word out.
“It’s too late to play the tough guy role, son. You can’t be a tough guy rolling through prison in a wheel chair doing life for murder.”
“Lawyer!” He raised his voice, then relaxed his head back on the pillow. He winced from the pain caused by the sudden, and subtle movement.
“Okay. That’s fine with us, Mr. Simmons,” Latrice said politely. “Have a good day, and I wish you the best.” She grabbed her brother by the arm and ushered him out of the room.
“What in the hell are we going to do now?” Todd growled through clenched teeth.
“The same thing we’ve been doing, continue digging.”
“It’ll be senseless to ask the DA to charge him with murder. There’s no way any warm blooded jury would convict him based on what we have. Especially when they see that he’s paralyzed.”
“I’ll call the DA and talk to him. At the least, we can charge him with illegally possessing the gun,” Latrice said.
Todd spun around toward his sister, wide eyed. “I have an idea...let’s go to the office.”
––––––––
Back at the police precinct they continued to work on the case. Things weren’t going too well on Latrice’s end. She talked to the district attorney. As expected, he refused to charge Reek with murder, explaining that it would be too easy for him to prevail with a claim of self-defense. He agreed to charge him with unlawful possession of a weapon.
Todd’s prudence proved to be beneficial. According to his theory, if someone had been shot with a large caliber gun, there was no way he could avoid going to the hospital without dying from complications. He called every hospital in Pennsylvania, with no success. He then took a shot by calling hospitals in the tri-state area. Thirteen exhausting phone calls later, he reached out to Cooper Hospital in Camden, New Jersey. To his relief, he was informed that a patient was released from the hospital three days earlier who sustained a .44 caliber bullet to the shoulder. The patient claimed to be the victim of a random robbery in Camden. His name was listed as Kevin Singleton.
Todd ran the name in the NCIC database. Not only did Kevin have a lengthy criminal history, but he was also from Philadelphia. Releasing a triumphant smile, Todd called the Homicide Task Force, relayed all the information he had obtained on Kevin, and requested they bring him in on suspicion of murder.
––––––––
Two days later, Todd and Latrice received a phone call from Homicide Task Force informing them that their suspect, Kevin Singleton, had been brought into custody. They raced back to the police precinct. Kevin had been in the interrogation room for an hour where he nervously waited for someone, anyone, to enter the room. He felt a slight sense of relief when the two homicide detectives walked in.
“So, how’s your shoulder doing, Kevin?” Todd jumped right in.
“Huh? Uhhh...it’s okay.”
“Where were you shot?” Todd continued.
“Right here.” He pointed to his left shoulder.
“Not where on your body!” Todd stood, placed his hands flat on the desk, and leaned forward. “Where were you shot at? What fucking location?”
“On...in, um...New Jersey, sir,” Kevin stammered.
Todd sat down and relaxed in his chair, calming down. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he smiled to Latrice, who nodded her head in agreement. “You see, I get to ask you a question, you get to lie to me, then I get to charge you with the two murders, and an attempted murder that happened on Upsal Street,” Todd explained matter-of-factly.
The mention of the murders hit Kevin like a bolt of lightning. He sat straight up in his chair. “Man, I ain’t kill nobody! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest defiantly.
“You didn’t?” Todd asked with one eyebrow raised. “Well, I’m going to tell you what I know. I know the bullet that was lodged in your shoulder has been sent off to forensics to see if it was discharged from the same .44 that was found on one of the victims.” Todd slowly slid a brown folder across the desk.
Kevin cautiously opened it. His eyes locked on the beaten and bloodied body of the large man who was tied to a chair. He gave his attention to each photograph. The final picture was of his friend, Tah, who lay contorted on the floor with a gaping, blood-soaked hole in his head. Beads of perspiration began to materialize on his forehead.
Todd noticed that Kevin was paying particular attention to that picture. He decided to continue. “I also know that we’re going to take a blood sample from you – whether voluntarily or by obtaining a warrant – and it will be compared to the blood samples that were taken from the scene of the crime. Lastly, I know that when both the ballistics and DNA results come back, you will never have the luxury of freedom again. You’re going to begin a new life with Fishbone. Do you know who that is?”
Kevin shook his head no.
“Fishbone is a three hundred pound, muscle built, balled headed black dude who likes to knock fake tough ass dudes like you out and take their virginity.” Todd couldn’t suppress the chuckle, but it was obvious that Kevin was more concerned with the evidence that was being compiled against him.
“Make no mistake about it, honey,” Latrice chimed in, “You’re in a hell of a lot of trouble, but you can certainly lighten the load on yourself. Give us something to work with and we may be able to negotiate a favorable deal with the district attorney on your behalf.”
Kevin remained quiet.
Latrice sensed that he was weakening. She had to take advantage. “Listen, baby, I know this is hard on you. You’re in a horrible position, and you’re scared. Believe me, I understand. Whatever you do, don’t dig your hole deeper than it already is. Your best option is to minimize the damage. Try to right your wrongs. That’s the only way we can help you, Kevin.”
“I’m...I’m scared.” Kevin broke down and sobbed.
“I know you are, honey. Talk to me and let me know what’s going on.”
“None of this was supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like that.” Kevin cried into his hands. He wiped the tears from his face and stared down at the table before continuing. “The twins sent us to rob Twan, and the shit went bad. Now the twins are dead.”
“Are you talking about Khadeem and Quadir Wilson?” Todd asked.
“Yeah.”
The charred remains of the brothers were found inside a stolen Suburban that had been set on fire.
“If he found out that they were the ones who ordered the robbery, he probably already know I had something to do with it. He’s gon’ try to kill me, too.” Kevin rambled on, brimming with fear.
“Who are you talking about? Who do you think killed the twins?”
“It was Mack and his man T-Lova...”