Another Senseless Killing (20) “That was a public defender!” * XXX “May I?” Nick asked Tyler Jenkins as he picked up the tape recorder. “I want today’s interrogation retained for posterity so future generations can savor this pivotal moment.” Jenkins stared long and hard at Nick before he answered. “I have no objections.” Nick nodded politely, cleared his throat, then flicked the recorder switch and spoke slowly and clearly into the mike. “Today is November nineteen at precisely --- “ He looked at his watch. “ --- five minutes after ten a.m. I am Lieutenant Nick Foley. Also present with me are Detective Manny Gold --- “ I stood up and bowed. I thought it was humorous. No one else did. So I quickly sat back down. Nick continued in total control. “ --- attorney Tyler Jenkins, Sargent Carlos Sanchez and Herb Rowland --- the subject of the interrogation.” Rowland, seated at the small table in the center of the room, folded his arms and sat back. Nick went on. “The questioning of Mr. Rowland will take place here and now in room sixty-six of the Cleveland Municipal Building in Cleveland Ohio.” Then he placed the recorder back on the table. Jenkins and I sat at opposite sides of the table and Sanchez was at the door. Nick stood facing the prisoner. He turned to the attorney. “Mr. Jenkins. Have you explained to your client why he is still in custody?” Jenkins stuck his chin out then nodded resignedly. “Yes.” Nick continued anyway. “The ballistics report came back stating the weapon found in your client’s home was the same one used to kill Kate Blair, Curt Warner and Martha Bowden.” “Lies! Lies!” Herb Rowland roared. “You motherfuckers can’t do this to me! I told you I never killed no one.” “Never killed --- anyone.” I corrected tauntingly. “Manny!” Nick spun toward me, his finger pointed. “Please!” While I didn’t much like the idea of being only an observer, I understood the rules. This was strictly a homicide investigation, and I was just a lowly PI. “Herbie.” Jenkins spoke softly then put his fingers to his lips. “Shhh --- .” “Mr. Jenkins.” Nick opened his collar. “Have you also told your client that the release I signed is now null and void --- at least for the time being?” “That still doesn’t mean a damn thing!” Jenkins’ fury showed with each word. “Just answer the question!” Nick tossed more fuel to the blaze. The attorney glared at Nick before he responded. “Yes. My client is aware of all the above.” “Good. Then we can proceed.” “How long I got to stay here and listen to this shit?” Herbie lept to his feet, clutching his huge hands into enormous fists. Sanchez took a step towards the prisoner. His gun was drawn. I recoiled, almost falling off my chair, my heart nearly bursting through my chest. Nick calmly pushed Rowland back into his seat, then gestured for Sanchez to put his weapon away and retreat back to the door. “Take it easy, Herbie.” Nick said condescendingly. Rowland sat down slowly. His dark eyes were blazing. We waited several minutes for things to return to normal. Then we waited some more --- just to be sure there were no further eruptions. “Mr. Jenkins.” Foley began to pace. “Do you admit your client knew Kate Blair?” Jenkins shrugged. “Is that a crime?” “Herbie, tell me.” Nick ignored the sarcasm. “Just what sort of relationship did you and Ms Blair share?” Jenkins started to speak, but his client cut him off. “We --- we went out a couple times.” Why does the scum of the earth get to walk it? I wanted to yell it, but didn’t. “Here’s the way I see it, Herbie.” Nick stopped pacing and positioned himself in front of Rowland. “First you shot Kate Blair. Then you bashed her head in. Then --- “ “NO! I never --- “ “Rowland.” Nick’s voice rose an octave. “You’re gonna have to level with us. Margo Blair and Martha Bowden --- the late Martha Bowden --- both saw you abuse Kate Blair verbally and physically.” Rowland and Jenkins exchanged a brief glance. Jenkins nodded. Rowland pursed his lips and sniffed. “So maybe I yelled at her --- once.” He sniffed again. “But I didn’t kill her.” “Herbie!” Jenkins’ roar equaled his client’s. There was a long silence. Herbie broke the spell. “So maybe I hit her --- once.” The knot around my intestines was back for an encore. “There is no maybe about it. Bruises were all over her body.” Nick put both hands on the table. His face was inches away from the prisoner’s. “Not to mention a few broken bones!” “Maybe other guys hit her. What the fuck you picking on me for?” I put my hand on my gun. I was dying to use it. “Lieutenant, --- “ Jenkins started to speak. Nick cut him off. “Don’t look for sympathy, Rowland. People saw you push her and people saw you threaten her.” “Lieutenant!” Jenkins was livid. “If we were in court, you would be held in contempt for badgering my client!” Nick stood up straight and faced the attorney. “But we’re not in court --- are we?” Foley and Jenkins glared at each other for several seconds. Then Nick turned back to Rowland and shoved a picture of Curt Warner at him. Rowland took the picture, studied it a moment, then gave it to Jenkins. “Know that man?” Herbie shrugged. “Let me refresh your memory. His name is Curt Warner.” Nick leaned on the table again. “Ring a bell?” Rowland looked at his attorney for a second, then looked at Nick. He remained silent. “Listen, Herbie!” Nick was back in the prisoner’s face. “Don’t give me that shit about never having met him. Even your landlord saw you two together.” He waited for a response. He got none. Now he walked around the prisoner and once again positioned himself in front of Herbie. “Warner was whacked because he knew something he shouldn’t have --- same as poor Martha Bowden. Or Warner’s death could have been drug related. Or maybe it was both.” Rowland turned his head, trying to avoid the glare of the bulb above him. He had to be boiling. Too fucking bad, Herbie! “I didn’t kill him.” “That wasn’t the question, Rowland!” Nick took out a handkerchief and wiped his face again. “I asked if you knew him.” Again Rowland looked at his dapper attorney, who stood and motioned for his client to come to him. The two men walked to the farthest corner and conferred quietly. As they spoke, I watched Sanchez. He had stood motionless the whole time we were here. (except for when Rowland got out of his chair). Since then he hadn’t moved an inch. After a long two minutes, Rowland and Jenkins resumed their respective seats. Nick inserted a fresh tape in the recorder, slipping the other one into his pocket. “Now let’s see, Herbie. Where were we?” The phony smile was back. “Oh yes. You were just about to tell me how it was that you knew Curt Warner.” Rowland looked at Jenkins, who nodded. The prisoner stared at Nick for several seconds before he spoke. “Warner tried to sell me hard drugs --- crack, heroin --- shit like that.” The phony smile was gone. “And of course you refused!” “That’s right! I don’t do hard drugs anymore. I ain’t done them in a long time.” He leaned in toward Nick and raised his voice. “I already told you that, man!” Nick looked at Jenkins, who stuck out his chin. It made a great target. “I know all about the needle marks, Lieutenant.” He shifted in his seat. “Anyway, I don’t see how they are pertinent to this interrogation.” Nick turned back to Rowland and continued. “Okay, Herbie. Let’s talk about the thirty-eight.” Rowland didn’t respond so Foley went on. “It had markings, powder burns and blood samples to match all three slayings.” I knew Nick wanted to beat the shit out of Rowland. That made two of us. Nick added. “And there were also samples of Kate Blair’s brain tissue.” “Excuse me. And correct me if I’m wrong.” Jenkins said confidently. “But I don’t believe the gun in question is registered to my client.” “The gun isn’t registered to anyone!” Nick snapped. “All the numbers were filed off.” “Lieutenant Foley --- “ Jenkins started to speak and again Nick cut him off. “The weapon was found in your client’s possession and that’s close enough for me!” “I repeat.” Tyler said angrily. “My client was framed. What will it take for you to acknowledge it?” Nick and I exchanged a quick glance. I wanted to help, but I knew I couldn’t. Foley took a large yellow notebook and a pen from the top drawer of the table and laid them in front of Rowland. Rowland just stared at it. “What’s this for, man?” “What the hell do you think it’s for, Herbie?” Nick just wanted this case to be over, and he was ready and willing to do whatever it took to end it. I couldn’t blame him. “If you write a confession I’ll try and spare you the death sentence. If you fight us, I promise you nothing.” “Excuse me, Lieutenant.” Jenkins was on his feet. “Are you offering my client a deal?” Nick thought a moment before he spoke. “Not exactly.” “What then --- exactly?” He didn’t wait for Nick to respond. “You know as well as I do that you have no case. You’re grasping, Lieutenant.” Where do these schmucks come from? Herbie continued to stare at the blank paper. Then he shook his head slowly. “I can’t do it, man. I can’t say I killed someone when I didn’t.” Nick pushed the pen and pad closer to Rowland. “You take this back to your cell and think about it. Time is running out. We want an answer in writing and we want it now!” And with that, Nick and I were out the door. * XXXI The streets were unusually crowded for a Sunday. But then again it’s not every day that a water main breaks, causing traffic to be tied up in all directions. We had to park the police car two blocks away to avoid the confusion. Nick could have actually parked in any of the ‘NO PARKING’ areas in the vicinity since we were on official police business. But Nick, defender of equal rights and a staunch idealist, chose not to. He maintained, as always, that there is only one set of rules. And unless it was a true emergency, like a life and death situation, one set would have to serve everyone. I looked at my watch for the tenth time as we walked into the modeling school. My Browns played San Diego at four. I had two hours. I hoped it would be enough. Nick and I went into the room marked BALLET. All five girls were huddled together against the far wall, waiting for us. The idle chatter stopped when they saw us. The room looked exactly like it had the last time I was here. The floor, the parallel bars, and the mirrored walls all gleamed brightly. I was amazed that a jerk like John Carver could keep anything looking this immaculate. We quietly observed our surroundings before Nick spoke. When he did, it was in a tone that commanded respect. “Ladies. We have to ask you some --- shall we say --- delicate questions.” They just stared at us, petrified. All five girls were thin and flat-chested. I recognized Kayla and Marti, and wondered what had happened to their boobs. With no push-up bras they looked like elementary school girls. What a let down! All five had pantsuits on to match their hair. Different colors for different tastes? Otherwise they could all have been clones. They had heavy eyeliner, long false lashes, multicolored fingernails and thick red lips. Marti, the blond, wore a canary yellow pantsuit. Kayla’s was black. The other three I didn’t know. “You needn’t be afraid to answer.” Nick began to pace slowly, his hands behind him. “None of you is under arrest. I told Marti that last night over the phone.” This didn’t seem to mollify or relax them. They remained frozen to their respective spots. Even though their eyes sparkled and their cheeks glistened, they resembled statues more than people. “First of all, I want to introduce ourselves to the rest of you. Then you can all do the same.” Nick opened his jacket. “I am Lieutenant Nick Foley and this is Detective Manny Gold.” Then we waited. The one with red hair and a red pantsuit stood up slowly. “My name is Tanya.” The others quickly followed suit. “My name is Angel.” She had auburn hair and a light brown pant suit. “I’m Lannie.” She was a brunette with a dark brown outfit. They all wore matching ballet slippers and their pants were so tight that every line of their tiny butts showed. “I’m Kayla. We’ve met.” “Likewise.” Marti stood next to her. Now all five were standing in a small semicircle across from us. At close inspection their young faces indicated a harsh realization of a cruel and difficult world. “Will Mr. Carver be here?” Tanya’s voice was barely audible. “No” Nick rubbed his chin. “We --- uh --- persuaded him to stay home today.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I called Carver yesterday and threatened him. If he showed up today I would tell his wife about some of his --- extracurricular activities and then all hell would break loose.” Generally Nick was discreet about things, but he could be nasty when he had to. In this case it worked. It got everyone’s attention. No one moved. They just stared. “Okay.” Nick continued. “You can all help us as well as yourselves by telling us exactly what goes on here.” We waited for a response but got none. Nick elaborated. “We need you to confirm what we already know.” “We dance and we model.” Kayla said. “And that’s all?” I asked as I leaned against the parallel bar, trying unsuccessfully to pick up eye contact. “What else could go on here?” Marti asked. Her innocence was fake. It was soon to end. “That,” Nick said emphatically, “is what we want you to tell us.” “It’s just a school for dancing and modeling. That’s all.” Lannie said almost in a whisper. The others nodded in agreement. I couldn’t get over how young these clones looked. “Maybe it used to be a school for dancing and modeling.” Nick took a short step closer to the girls. This made them more uncomfortable than they were. “But we were told by a solid source that now --- other things go on here.” After a few seconds of silence, Angel walked bravely toward Nick. “I don’t know why anyone would say anything like that.” Lannie stood next to her. “I --- I really think you owe us some sort of explanation. All Marti said was you wanted to meet us. She didn’t say what it was about.” Nick thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Fair enough.” Now he thought some more, obviously intent on thinking through each word. I was certain he didn’t want to repeat what Margo said or accuse anyone of anything. He would want it to come from the girls. When he finally spoke, it was slow and careful. “Some girls --- such as you --- in other parts of the country serve only as a glorified escort service. A place which is a haven for drugs and where sex is for hire.” The five clones looked at each other as if someone just told them all their orifices would have to be sewn up. They were either shocked because of what we’d suggested, or shocked because we’d hit on the truth. Nick continued to walk the tightrope. “We have reason to believe that this establishment fits that particular mold.” No one moved for several minutes. They couldn’t have been more stunned. Nick then reached into his inside jacket pocket and produced Curt Warner’s photo. “I want you ladies to study this picture and tell me if any of you recognize this man.” Kayla hesitantly took the photo. The other girls grouped around her. They all looked at each other, then at Nick. Even with their full lips and long lashes, the longer I stared at them the younger they got. Babies! And if I thought they were babies, I could imagine what Nick thought. Kayla finally handed me the photo. She looked as if she were about to cry. “It’s okay.” I tried to be encouraging. I suddenly felt sorry for these kids and wanted to turn Carver’s blubbery body into Jell-O. “Would you please excuse us for a second?” Marti asked. We nodded and all five walked back to the far end of the room, where they began to talk in whispers. In less than five minutes they broke apart and slowly walked back toward us. Kayla moved forward as spokesperson. Before she spoke, Nick asked her. “Would you rather talk someplace else?” “Uh --- no.” She looked at the others. “Do you think we need an attorney?” Nick didn’t have to think. “When you need one we’ll tell you. We have a pretty good idea of what’s been going on here for the past year or so. But we want to hear it from you.” I needed a cigarette badly. But it would have to wait --- along with my Browns. Nick motioned for them to speak. We waited. “We don’t want to get into any trouble.” Lannie said. Nick looked her in the eye. “You are already in trouble. Mr. Gold and I are trying to keep you from getting into worse trouble. But we can’t do that until you tell us what this business does behind closed doors.” I thought Nick phrased it nicely. “We don’t want to go to jail.” Marti said as she dabbed at her face with a tissue. “Ladies,” Nick said, “we don’t want you to go to jail either.” “So,” I added, “why don’t we start say --- at the beginning.” I couldn’t take my eyes off their adolescent faces. “First of all, what can you tell me about this man?” Nick took the photo from Kayla and held it up for all to see. “His name is --- was Curt Warner. Did any of you see Mr. Warner and Mr. Carver together?” “I saw them together --- once.” Lannie said. Nick gave me the photo to hold as he took out a pad and pencil. “Can you give us times? Dates?” She shook her head. “When I worked out front I saw them a couple of times.” Tanya volunteered. “They met in Mr. Carver’s office. The meeting lasted about an hour.” “The one time I saw him leave the office,” Angel added, “this --- this Warner was carrying a briefcase.” “Probably to haul out his cut.” I mumbled to myself. “So,” asked Nick as tactfully as he could. “this is not a ballet school or a modeling school --- is it?” There was another long silence before Kayla responded. “No. Not for a long time.” Marti and Kayla grabbed each other’s hand. The others huddled closer and motioned for Kayla to continue. She did. The words were interspersed with sobs, so it took almost an hour to get the grisly tale told. She told us about Carver’s so called escort service. She admitted that they were no more than high priced prostitutes. Neither Nick nor I could respond at first. We knew it was all true and it made us sick to hear it emanating from the mouths of these children. “So,” I put away Warner’s picture. “that explains why there were never any students around here.” “There haven’t been students here in --- “ Marti shrugged. “ --- I don’t know how long.” Nick made some notes, then he turned the page. “I thank you for your candor. Now I would like to know how you were paid.” Angel spoke up quickly. “The clients gave us one-hundred dollars or two-hundred. We kept half and the rest went to Mr. Carver.” “He told us that if any of us ever talked about it to anyone he would --- “ Lannie began to cry and couldn’t finish her sentence. “He threatened you with bodily harm?” I could feel my body heat up.
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Copyright © 1998 B J Bloch |