Tanner didn’t like what he was seeing. Sharkey’s shyster lawyer was holding the door open for Sharkey. Both men were laughing and joking as they came out of the district attorney’s offices. Tanner made a beeline for his prime suspect.
A sensible cop would have done his homework before approaching the defendant, but not Tanner. He wasn’t a sensible cop. If he were, he’d be police commissioner by now. Instead, he was a passionate man who believed in justice and not politics—that made him an excellent cop.
Tanner blocked Sharkey and his lawyer’s path. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Sharkey?”
The lawyer raised his hand. “Back off, lieutenant. My client has nothing to say to you.”
“Maybe you should take it up with the DA, Tanner.” Sharkey said the policeman’s name like he’d trodden in something nasty. “You can’t win ‘em all, buddy.”
“Excuse us,” the lawyer said and pushed Tanner aside with his arm. Or to be exact, the lawyer tried to push Tanner aside, but being a good ten inches shorter and seventy pounds lighter, he was forced to go around the detective.
Tanner let them go. He’d deal with them later. Right now, somebody had some questions to answer.
Tanner burst into the DA’s office. His shocked secretary jumped up from her chair.
“Where is he?”
“I think he’s on a call, detective,” she blurted reflexively.
“No, he was on a call. Now, he’s in a conference.”
Tanner applied the same treatment to the DA’s private door as he had to the office door. It slammed against the wall with enough force to shudder back.
“Tanner, wait outside!” the DA shouted with his hand over the phone’s mouthpiece.
“I think I prefer to wait inside,” he growled and slammed the door shut. “Why is Sharkey smiling? Can you explain that to me, Polson?”
“I’ll call you back,” Polson said into the phone before hanging up. “Why do you think?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. I just catch them. You’re the one who’s meant to prosecute them.”
“Okay, smart guy, a little law 101. You can’t prosecute shit, if you don’t have any evidence.”
Tanner thumped Polson’s desk. “I gave you a truckload of evidence.”
“Yeah, circumstantial evidence.”
“Bullshit!” Tanner’s fingers dug into the desk’s varnished surface. He knew he was getting uptight. His wife and doctor had told him to keep calm or he’d blow a blood vessel. But he couldn’t help being who he was. It was the nature of the beast. “I gave you everything on Sharkey. His one surviving vic gave us his description and the description of his van. From a gas station receipt and two VISA receipts from restaurants, we placed him in the vicinity of two of the other murders. And his alibis for all four murders are built on shaky foundations.”
“Smoke and mirrors, Tanner. Smoke and mirrors. None of that’s real. The girl who got away, she did give us a damn good description. The only problem was that she couldn’t ID Sharkey in a lineup.”
“We screwed up. The girl was intimidated by him. It was too soon for her. She had only just left the hospital.”
Polson continued, unimpressed. “The receipts. Great. You’re right, they place him in the vicinity of Andrea Hasting’s and Tamara Jackson’s murders, but they don’t tell us he was the man. I’m sure there are a hundred guys who could provide the same receipts from the same places at the same times. So, what were they? Accomplices?”
“Screw you. You’re just making excuses.”
“No, screw you, Tanner. You might have the right man, but you fell down on the job. You didn’t give me any physical evidence. Get me some of that good stuff and I’ll nail the son of a bitch to a tree. You can guarantee it. Now, do your job and get the fuck out of my office.”
Tanner was out of Polson’s office before the DA could lift the phone to complain to his captain. He wasn’t about to let Sharkey get away with murder. And Polson was going to get the physical evidence he wanted. Before the day was out, everybody was going to be a happy camper—except Sharkey.
The lieutenant charged through the corridors and hallways of the justice building. Man, woman, child—Tanner knocked anybody aside who was in his path. He couldn’t afford for Sharkey to get away.
He spotted him and his lawyer on the steps outside. Tanner’s blood pressure was up and he could feel the veins in his neck throbbing with over-activity. He blew through the tall doors and down the stone steps.
"Please state your name for the court." Tanner rounded his prey, blocking their path. “I can’t wait to hear you answer that in front of a jury.”
“Piss off, Tanner,” Sharkey said.
“It’ll never happen and you know it.” Sharkey acted bored with Tanner’s theatrics, casting his eyes skyward and shaking his head.
Sharkey’s lawyer got in between the two men. “Lieutenant, you have no case. You’ve had to drop the charges. This is harassment.”
“Shove it, shyster.”
“I’ll be reporting you to your superiors.” The lawyer wagged a finger in Tanner’s face.
Tanner sneered and waved a dismissive hand.
Sharkey dropped his killer’s hands onto the lawyer’s shoulders and massaged them. “I wouldn’t bother, David. The lieutenant’s blown the big case. He’s in enough shit already. He doesn’t need any more.”
“I know you did it, Sharkey.”
“Christ, don’t you have another record to play, Tanner? If you had any proof, the DA wouldn’t have dropped the case before it could come to trial. You’ve lost—admit it. Be a man. I might just respect you.”
Tanner’s blood boiled in his veins. How could this killer taunt him? The law had become so twisted that no matter how much evidence was produced—it was never enough. Justice didn’t stand a chance. It was about time the bitch took off her blindfold and saw exactly who was giving her the finger.
“I’ll pin this one on you, Sharkey.” Tanner was inches from Sharkey’s face. The lawyer squeezed between them. “I’ll make it my life’s work, if necessary.”
The lawyer forced Tanner back. “That sounds suspiciously like you’re going to falsify evidence.”
Tanner snorted. “I wouldn’t sweat it, lawyer-man. I won’t have to falsify shit. This moron will convict himself.”
“Don’t call me a moron. I’m warning you!” Sharkey shouted, pointing an accusing finger.
“Warning me? You’ve got to be joking. You wouldn’t harm me. You’re not man enough.”
“Quit it, Lieutenant.” The lawyer sounded like a schoolteacher trying to break up a brawl between five year olds.
Tanner ignored the lawyer. “But you’re man enough to pick on defenseless women.”
“Fuck you,” Sharkey hissed. “I’ll have your badge for this.”
“What’s it like to swipe girls off the street? Do you feel strong when you see their fear? I bet you shoot your load when you finally end their misery and cut their throats.”
“You’re a twisted fuck, Tanner, do you know that? You sound like you get off on this shit.”
“Hey, I think I’ve got it.” Tanner nodded to himself. “You can’t get off. I bet that’s it. I bet you prey on women because you’re a limp dick failure.”
Sharkey spat in Tanner’s face.
“Right, that’s it,” the lawyer said, pushing his client back. “You’ll be hearing from me, detective. You’ve pushed it too far this time.”
Tanner was igneous. He wasn’t about to move for anyone or anything. He let the lawyer shove and guide his seething client to a waiting car.
Tanner waited for the car to make a turn before he smiled. “I’ve got you, you son of a bitch.”
Bystanders watching the debacle were staring at the grinning cop without comprehension. They gave him a wide berth and slipped by hoping not to be drawn into his insane world.
But Tanner didn’t care. He had spit running down his face. He had Sharkey. The man was toast. They used to lack the vital piece of the puzzle that would bury Sharkey, but not anymore. Tanner wiped his face with a clean handkerchief.
Polson came stumbling down the steps and stopped in front of Tanner. “I knew you’d do something like this. I was watching you. What the fuck have you gone and done now?”
“I did exactly what you asked me to do.”
“What?” Polson hadn’t understood.
“You wanted physical evidence. DNA evidence is physical evidence, isn’t it?” Tanner finished wiping his face and slapped the damp handkerchief in Polson’s hand. “There you go. There’s your physical evidence. I’ve done my job. Now, I suggest you do yours.”
Polson stared at the handkerchief for a moment then realization crossed his face. The penny had dropped. They’d never managed to get a blood test out of Sharkey—his lawyer had blocked every attempt. Finally, he held Sharkey’s DNA in his hands. He smiled. The smile became a grin. “Thank you.”
Walking away, Tanner fumbled for his car keys. “Counselor, let me know when there’s going to be a tree nailing. I want to bring my own nails.”