Chapter Thirty

I DROVE BACK to my apartment and prepared for the evening’s assault. I’d be an observer only, but I intended to bring both my Glock and my Colt Mustang. A small pistol, the Colt fit perfectly in an ankle holster. I hadn’t fired it except at the range, and this was a perfect time for its maiden voyage.

I also considered a knife. John had bought me one when I first became a detective. It was small, perfect for concealment, and included a sheath. After some thought, I decided to leave it at home. Knives and I have never gotten along. Most days, I could barely pick one up without hurting myself. After a particularly embarrassing incident in a steakhouse, John asked me if I wanted him to cut my meat. I got back at him later, but the last thing I needed tonight was a self-inflicted wound.

My weaponry chosen, I left early for the North Olmsted police station. Hannibal had been fine on our last several trips, which usually meant he was gearing up for a major mechanical failure.

Hannibal surprised me once again, however, and I pulled into the station a good half hour before our eight o’clock briefing. Rather than going right in, I waited in the lot until I saw Hannah’s car. She arrived ten minutes after me, and we walked into the station together.

North Olmsted was a suburban community with an affluent tax base. Their police station was brighter and more modern than most, certainly when compared to those in Cleveland. The officer at the desk directed us to a large conference room lined with computers. The room was well designed except for the oddly colored carpeting on the floor. While it might have been initially dark blue, it was now stained to the point where that was uncertain.

We were early, but a number of cops had arrived before us. Captain Slovitz stood at the front with another officer I assumed was the North Olmsted police chief. Hannah and I took seats in the back next to Detective Roberts. Based on the looks I got coming in, you’d have thought a unicorn had entered the briefing—a five-foot-seven inch, very unwelcome unicorn.

I leaned over and whispered to Hannah, “They love me. I can tell.”

“They don’t have to love you,” she whispered back. “You’re coming in our car. Just avoid being a smart-ass, and you’ll be fine.”

Detective Roberts was speaking with a tall African-American detective in his early thirties. Hannah introduced him as Detective Malcolm Davis, an eight-year veteran of the Cleveland PD. Detective Davis would be joining us in the lead strike car. He, Hannah, and Detective Roberts would be the arrest team. Unlike the other detectives in the room, Detective Davis appeared intrigued by my presence.

“The captain said this operation was your idea,” he said.

I could feel the bus as it drove over my body. “The captain has a way with words.”

“Relax. If it works, you’ll have two city police departments that owe you, big time.”

“What if things go south?”

“Then you’ll have two city police departments that owe you, big time.”

He was joking. I think. The briefing started precisely at eight, led by Captain Slovitz, representing the Cleveland PD, and Captain Ronald Lester, representing North Olmsted. As per our original plan, there would be four unmarked cars involved in the arrest. Three were for backup and would be manned by North Olmsted detectives. Two of the backup vehicles would be parked on Faerie and Merlin, the two streets in the development that ran parallel to Elfin. The third North Olmsted vehicle would sit at the end of Elfin Street to cut off traffic should Grieve and Mary attempt to escape.

The lead vehicle, manned by Roberts, Davis, Han-nah, and myself, would park on Elfin a few houses from whatever residence Tomas determined our suspects were occupying. The entire plan would be contingent on obtaining a proper warrant as well as the level of certainty expressed by Tomas and Detective Aimes. The potential for hostages was made clear to all participants. Both captains also emphasized the importance of staying in radio contact.

Maybe it was nerves, but I was starting to lose faith in my own strategy. The variables almost boggled the mind. Would Grieve see the message? If he saw it, would he reply? If he didn’t, this whole escapade was a waste. I also worried about how well armed our suspects might be. I remembered the handgun someone had used to take a shot at me outside the Moore home. I wondered what other weapons they possessed.

At nine o’clock, Detective Aimes called into the conference room. He’d chosen to work from his Cleveland office and interface with the operations team via phone. His stated reason was his desire to use his own computer, but Hannah told me the detective never appeared comfortable in large groups. At the same time, I got a text from Tomas confirming he’d sent my message. He’d added, Aimes not a total moron. For Tomas, that was high praise. When it came to computers, my moron status had never been revoked.

With the message now sent, we’d reached our first inflection point. Anticipating a long wait, the two captains set their men to other tasks with a reminder they should remain glued to their radios. Hannah and I chose to remain in the conference room, a fortunate decision given the wait lasted only fifteen minutes.

The call from Detective Aimes was a surprise to all of us. After telling us there was a return message, Aimes paused a solid minute and simply said, “Wow.”

Captain Slovitz was not amused. “By all means, Aimes, keep the entire room in suspense. What the hell did he say?”

“I am reading this verbatim,” Aimes replied. “‘You ugly shit. How dare you bring her into this? Do you think only God delivers vengeance? I am going to cut off your cock and make you eat it for breakfast. You will never see me coming, but I will find you. If it takes the rest of my life, I will find you.’”

Captain Lester looked at me. “It looks like you struck a nerve, Mr. Luvello.”

One of the North Olmsted cops added, “Though he may have trouble with the ‘cock’ part.”

Both captains glared, and the offending detective did not speak again. I was just happy the idea had worked, though part of me feared it might have succeeded too well and cause Grieve to storm out of the house before the message trace. After thinking it through, I realized that was unlikely. Grieve might be angry, but he was also methodical. He wouldn’t go anywhere without a plan.

I didn’t receive any more texts from Tomas. I figured he was too busy tracking the message to bother confirming what I already knew. His trace was the part of the plan in which I was most confident. I guessed it would take another fifteen minutes, twenty on the outside.

My confidence was not misplaced. It took Tomas ten minutes, then another five for Detective Aimes to confirm his information. Aimes called the conference room at 9:32. The address he identified was 1427 Elfin Street.

We moved on to phase three of our plan, which involved obtaining a warrant from a Cleveland judge. A prosecutor from the DA’s office and a judge were waiting in chambers for our call to confirm the location of the suspects. Once Aimes verified the Elfin Street address, Captain Slovitz made that call. That was when things got interesting.

Under most situations, cops executing a warrant are required to announce their presence before entering a home. The courts implemented the knock-and-announce requirement to ensure the physical safety of the home’s occupants and comply with the Fourth Amendment’s prohibition against unreasonable searches and seizures.

The courts did institute a no-knock warrant exception to this requirement. If officers had reason to believe suspects were destroying evidence or the threat of violence existed, they might enter a home without an announcement. No-knock warrants were most commonly issued in drug cases where evidence-destruction often occurred. Given the perceived threat from Dr. Grieve and Mary Dhillon, that was the type of warrant the prosecutor was seeking for our case.

Based on the uncertainty over the home’s identification and believing evidence-destruction wasn’t an issue, the judge was reluctant to forgo standard procedure. The fact that all the murders had occurred with knives and not guns was also a factor. It was a justifiable decision on the judge’s part, but it meant the arresting officers would be at greater risk.

Hannah and Detective Roberts flipped a coin to see who would serve the warrant, and Roberts won. He would present the warrant at the front door with Davis as backup. That left Hannah to cover the back of the house. If there were any signs of trouble, she would enter the home from that side.

While the legal wrangling was taking place, the rest of us looked at a map of Elfin Street. The address in question was at the end of the block, and records indicated the home belonged to Mrs. Claudia Place, a widow, seventy-nine years old.

Based on property records, Mrs. Place had been a resident of the development for the last forty-nine of those years. Her cell phone was not emitting a signal, an indication it was either turned off or destroyed. We had to presume Mrs. Place was still alive, one additional factor to be considered by the arresting officers.

The location of the house was another complication. As the last home on the street, the front of 1427 bordered on Elfin Street while the right side bordered on Troll, one of the two north-south streets in the development. After some discussion, the North Olmsted cops decided to shift one of their backup vehicles to Troll to ensure our targets were effectively boxed in. I then looked down at my phone and noticed Tomas had sent another message.

Be careful. This guy is scary as hell.