Another Senseless Killing (22) “Who is it?” Carver spoke in a weak monotone. “Open up, John.” Nick said. “It’s the police.” There was a brief pause. I wanted to break down the door and shove my forty-five up his nose. But it wasn’t necessary. He opened the door slowly. The vacant stare from his glassy eyes jumped from Nick to me then back to Nick. Carver’s hair was a mess and his short sleeve shirt was badly wrinkled. He looked like I feel first thing in the morning. “Sit down, John.” Nick said firmly as he pushed Carver back inside his office to his desk. Carver’s tiny eyes got even tinier behind his concave lenses, and his gaze jumped all over the room before landing on Nick. “I said sit down!” “What the hell is this all about?” Carver asked as he slowly sat down. “John,” Nick said as he closed the door, “we have a warrant for your arrest.” “As --- as God is my witness, I --- I didn’t murder --- “ He was close to tears. “This warrant is not for murder, John.” Nick said as he produced five notarized sheets of paper. “These are affidavits signed by --- “ Carver looked at the papers. I thought he was going to faint. “ --- Kayla, Marti, Tonya, Angel and Lannie.” Carver continued to stare silently, his lips quivering and his entire body sagging. “I’m sure you know the contents of these letters.” Nick added smugly. I loved watching his fat ass squirm. He looked like a giant worm trying to find a hiding place. “I --- I have to contact my lawyer.” He suddenly looked twice his age. “John, you have a chance to help yourself here.” Nick sat down and crossed his legs. “I can read you your rights and then you can get a mouthpiece. But that won’t prevent us from charging you with three counts of murder.” Carver blinked his eyes several times then squinted. “I don’t understand.” “I’ll make it clear.” I sat down next to Nick as he continued. ”These signed documents combined with correspondence transcripts and monitored phone calls link you undisputedly to Curt Warner.” He started to speak but nothing came out except short grunts. “We know what this place is.” Foley continued. “We know you were dealing in both drugs and prostitution.” Carver was aging by the minute. “Even going back to Minnesota --- are you with me so far?” Nick didn’t wait for a response. “The problem I got here, John, is that you had good motives for all three killings. So unless you tell us the truth --- “ Nick shrugged, then threw his hands in the air. Carver grunted again. “Dealing in drugs and prostitution is some real serious shit, John.” Nick leaned in to him. “But three counts of murder is a whole lot worse!” “Gentlemen, shouldn’t I call my attorney? I mean --- “ “Look, John.” Nick loosened his collar. “I’m trying to keep things simple. If you call your attorney, that tells me you have something to hide.” “I have absolutely nothing to hide!” “Then why don’t you tell us the truth? We ask for nothing more.” Carver got up shakily and walked to the window. He stared out at nothing for several minutes. Then he turned back and licked his lips. “Can you help me to keep my family from finding out?” “That’s a tall order, John.” Nick said. “But we’ll do what we can.” Carver looked out the window again. Then he put his hands in his pockets and turned back to us. “I loved Kate Blair. I didn’t love any of the --- others.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. How could Kate Blair get involved with this fat fuck? “They just worked for you --- right?” I asked sardonically. John ignored my question. “She was the most sexually exciting woman I have ever known.” Now he raised his voice. “I --- I could never kill anyone like her.” “Fear is a powerful motive, John.” He was struggling, but Nick had no intention of making it easy for him. “You’re married. You have a family --- how the hell could you risk everything for a piece of ass?” I marveled at Nick’s blunt choice of words. “Maybe you tried to end it and she wouldn’t let you.” Nick suggested. “She wanted more and you wanted out. So --- you killed her.” “No. That’s not --- “ “Then Curt Warner finds out about it.” Nick continued over his protest. “And you have to kill him too.” “No. No!” Carver pleaded. “Then poor innocent Martha Bowden sees you at Kate’s.” Foley added. “So you get rid of her as well.” “No. NO!” Carver had his head in his hands and he was screaming. After a long pause, Foley said thoughtfully, “Or maybe you thought Warner was fucking with you financially and you wouldn’t pay him his cut. That would mean Curt was the first to go.” “This is outrageous!” Carver continued to yell. “My lawyer --- “ “You’re right, John.” Nick’s answer was glib. “It is outrageous using people like Kate and Marti and --- “ “Bullshit! I never used anyone. I never forced anyone to do anything!” Saliva began to run down his chins. “Those girls --- Kate included --- all knew what they were getting themselves into. Fuck this sanctimonious shit!” Nick and I just stared as Carver’s manner abruptly changed from rage to fear. “I --- I was trapped. Warner had me sucked in. I couldn’t get out.” He licked his lips again. “You --- you have to help me.” “Why?” I asked evenly. “Why the hell should we help you?” “Lieutenant. Please.” Tears were running down his cheek. “I didn’t kill anyone.” “John.” Nick spoke condescendingly. “You lied about your school. You lied about Kate Blair. Maybe you lied about your whereabouts on the night of the murders.” “I --- I told you the truth.” Carver’s hands were shaking. “I was home with my wife when those people were killed.” “On all three occasions, right?” Nick asked. “Yes. I was with my wife on all three occasions.” “Since you’re such a devoted family man.” I added. Carver ignored me. “Why don’t you ask my wife?” “As far as I’m concerned,” Nick said, “a wife’s testimony is the same as no testimony at all.” “Uh --- look.” He was grasping. I loved it. “If --- if I sign a confession about the drugs and the prostitution, can you let me off the hook on the murder charges?” “No can do.” Nick answered quickly. “I’ll even say I forced the girls into doing what they did. I’ll say I threatened them --- they had no choice. I didn’t, but I’ll say it anyway.” “John,” Nick asked whimsically, “are you trying to make a deal?” “No. That is --- uh --- “ Carver looked like someone had dropped a gallon of water over him. “I --- I really shouldn’t be talking to you without a lawyer.” “No deal, John. At least not yet.” Nick again ignored his plea. “Sorry.” There was a long silence. Carver ended it. “I --- I heard you got Rowland behind bars.” I nodded. “That’s correct.” “You know that nigger hit her. Can you imagine hitting that gorgeous creature?’ “We know all about that, John.” I said wearily. “And you’re not charging him with the murders?” “That’s right.” Nick said. “Because we haven’t proved the murder weapon belongs to him.” “So --- maybe you think it belongs to me.” “We didn’t say that.” Nick corrected. “But until we can prove beyond a doubt that the weapon was Rowland’s, you are still a suspect.” “All right. All right!” Carver put his head in his hands again. “Let’s go, John.” Nick said. “When you get to the station you can phone your lawyer.” After a long pause Carver stood up. His face was red and his eyes had all but vanished within their sockets. He took a deep breath, then asked me unexpectedly, “Why don’t you question Margo Blair? She and Kate hated each other.” Neither Nick nor I responded. Foley took Carver by the elbow and led him away from his desk. “Margo was jealous of her sister’s looks.” Between the saliva, the tears, and the sweat, Carver’s face was a mess. “Margo is very attractive.” I said defensively. You fat fuck! “Kate was more than attractive. I’ve worked with beautiful people all my life. I’ve never met anyone like Kate.” Carver wouldn’t quit. “Did you know Margo was disinherited from her father’s will?” “Yes.” My entire body was raging. “We know that.” Nick and I had Carver between us in the hall. I was dying to kick him in the balls. “Margo always had the responsible jobs --- the steady employment.” Carver went on mockingly. “Margo was so --- so fucking stable with her feet solid on the ground. Kate hated her for that!” “How do you know all this, John?” Nick asked calmly. He raised his chins back. “Kate confided in me. She told me --- things.” “Did all the other girls around here confide in you too?” I asked. “And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” “Where’d you bang ‘em, Carver? Between the parallel bars?” I knew I was out of line, but I said it anyway. “Okay, Manny. Enough!” Nick turned back to Carver. “I understand your deep concern in trying to see that justice is served. But for now, deal with your own problems.” Nick opened the car door and pushed Carver into the back seat. I sat next to him. As Nick sped away from the curb, Carver leaned forward and said softly, “Actually, I --- I only dabbled in drugs. I never --- “ “Bullshit!” Nick roared. “No one dabbles in drugs!” “Why don’t you cuff me?” “Don’t get cute, Carver.” I’d had it with this fat-assed prick. “But I must admit the thought makes my mouth water!” “We’ll cuff you only if you resist arrest.” Nick explained from the front seat. “But I’m not --- see. I’m being very cooperative. I --- “ “Carver.” Nick added. “When we get downtown, you better call your lawyer!” * XXXIV It was a gloomy Thursday in mid December. The sun hadn’t been out in a week and the temperature dropped drastically to the low forties. It had drizzled for two days, so the cold damp air made my joints ache. Winter weather was around the corner and I dreaded it. And to add to the overall distress of my meager existence, the Browns, after winning the opener against Dallas, dropped four straight close ones in a row! On this particular chilly day Nick and I were the only ones brave enough to confront Mother Nature and sit outside at one of the outdoor tables at Junior’s Deli. All the other tables were vacant and wet. “It’s cold and damp out here, Manny.” He took a big bite of his corned beef sandwich. “How the hell did I ever let you talk me into eating lunch outside?” “Put some adventure in your dull life, Nick.” I smiled. “My life is far from dull.” He failed to return the smile. “Next week I go back to work --- officially, that is. Some joke, huh?” Only he didn’t laugh. “I got enough adventure in my life without --- this. Thank you very much!” He washed his sandwich down with cream soda. “This pastrami is fantastic.” I boasted as I watched it drip onto the table. The waiter came over to see how we were doing, rubbing his hands together feverishly. I assured him that we were fine --- cold and wet, but fine. He filled our water glasses, smiled and left. The uneasy tranquility was punctured as a lone couple trudged along the deserted sidewalk. The man was maybe in his mid sixties, tall and distinguished looking, with white hair and a white mustache. The woman was much younger with high heels, a very tight skirt a foot above her knees and loaded with makeup. The relationship was obvious. We both put down our sandwiches and just stared. “Manny, I told you over the phone that I didn’t feel like discussing the case right now.” “That was over the phone. I thought maybe face to face you’d feel different.” A sudden breeze attacked us. It was as if a sheet of ice penetrated my body. “Well, I don’t.” Nick hunched his shoulders. “Jesus! I am freezing.” “Why don’t you want to talk about the case?” I wasn’t letting go. “I have my reasons, okay?” Nick glanced at his watch. “Come on, old buddy.” I pasted a Nick Foley smile on my kisser. “Just tell me what’s going on with Herb Rowland.” “Manny --- “ Nick took a deep breath. When he saw I wasn’t giving in, he said resignedly, “I got a call from Rowland’s attorney early this morning.” “What did the shyster say?” I took a final bite of the pastrami and washed it down with water. Nick sighed. “He said we had no case.” Foley pushed his half-eaten sandwich to the side. “Hell, I knew that. No sense kidding ourselves.” He took a sip of water. “The murder weapon isn’t registered to Rowland. We don’t know who the hell it belongs to!” “But it was in his possession.” I offered. “It could have been planted. We have no proof. There are no witnesses to place Rowland at or even near the scenes of any of these crimes. And there are no fingerprints --- anywhere!” I waited for Foley to continue. But instead he began to move the saltshaker back and forth. When he finally did respond, I realized he wasn’t making eye contact. “Manny, the legal system requires proof. I know the piece was in his apartment --- not good enough. I know he’s an ex-con --- not good enough. I know people heard him threaten Kate and even hit her --- hearsay. Not good enough!” “So you’re telling me Rowland is innocent?” I was getting pissed. “Manny, I am freezing my gonads off. Can we --- “ I cut him off. I couldn’t let go. “If the thirty-eight was a plant, who planted it?” Nick shrugged. His attention remained focused on the saltshaker. “Who planted the thirty-eight?” I repeated more emphatically. “Manny --- “ He began to slowly massage his forehead. “I don’t know. Look, it was too easy. An anonymous tip, a murder weapon conveniently showing up exactly where indicated, the intended victim a three time loser --- a perfect choice, no less.” “Bullshit!” I spoke louder than I meant to, and a young woman with a baby in her arms threw me an angry glance as she crossed the street. “And besides all that,” Foley went on, “on October second Herbie says he was sleeping it off. He claims he never left the apartment that night.” “We only have his word for that. Is there any one to confirm that alibi?” “No.” Nick answered coldly. “And there’s no one to deny it either.” “What about his whereabouts on the night Warner was murdered?” “Good question. He was in jail on a drunk and disorderly charge.” “But according to Morales, Warner could have been killed the night before the date on his autopsy or the night after. He said the report was accurate to within twenty-four hours.” “Forget it, Manny. We have no case against Rowland other than circumstantial.” I took a deep breath. “I won’t even bother to ask where he was when Martha was murdered.” “It doesn’t matter. I told you, we have no case.” I lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag, then let it out slowly. “So we can’t hold him. Is that what you’re saying?” “Not according to his attorney.” Nick looked at his watch again. Two diesel Greyhound buses sped by noisily. We had to wait five minutes before we could resume our conversation. “Have you heard anything from ballistics?” I finished my water. “You’re not giving up, are you?” I answered quickly. “No.” He hesitated a moment. “They called me early this morning.” “Boy. Busy morning.” I took another drag. Another sheet of ice tore through my body. I knew Nick had to have felt it too. “The tire tracks at the cemetery appear to be from a large vehicle.” “Like Carver’s Blazer. I know, Nick. We’ve discussed it.” “The tracks were old and distorted. Randy Miller, the young hotshot from Detroit, thinks it was from a tire sized --- “ Nick took out his notebook and turned several pages. “ --- 265-75-16. But that’s only an educated guess. Randy won’t swear it will hold up in a court of law.” I put out my cigarette on the wet pavement. “Nick, I got a feeling you’re going to tell me that John Carver is no longer a murder suspect.” “Manny, I told you I’m freezing. I told you I don’t want to discuss this case right now.” “Look, Nick.” I went on anyway. “Is Carver a suspect, or isn’t he?” I waited for what seemed like light years before Nick responded. “Personally, I think Carver is far too weak to commit murder. Vice, yes. Corruption, yes. Murder --- no.” Nick put the saltshaker next to the sugar bowl. “He doesn’t own a gun, and once again there are no fingerprints or witnesses. And on top of that his wife will corroborate his alibis.” “Carver is an asshole!” “I agree.” Nick still had not made eye contact with me. “But being an asshole isn’t a crime.” I began to feel more uncomfortable because Nick was definitely not acting like himself . He was cold and aloof. I needed a quick confrontation. But it would have to wait for the right moment. “John Carver will go to jail for trafficking drugs and running a whorehouse. But he’s not a killer.” Nick finished his water. “True, he had a motive. But it’s a very weak case. We have less on Carver than we have on Rowland. Even a half-assed second rate lawyer could get Carver off.” I took out a fresh cigarette and fondled it for several moments before lighting up. “What about Reid Carlson? He had a damn good motive. He said he was glad she was dead. She made his life a living hell. Those were his exact words. He had to avoid any chance of a scandal.” I pushed my empty water glass to the side. “And he also lied about the cufflinks.” “Manny, I gotta go.” Nick was panting like he had just run the Boston Marathon. “Tell me about Carlson first.” I was wearing us both out, but it didn’t stop me. There was another long pause before he responded. “When ballistics called this morning --- “ Nick continued to talk to the saltshaker. “ --- they ruled out Carlson’s thirty-eight.” “They what?” I took a light puff, then out of frustration hurled my cigarette into the street. “When were you going to tell me?” “I was going to call you, but I know how much you love your fucking beauty sleep.” “I appreciate that.” I took a final bite of the pastrami. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s all a mute point. He was out of town during all three homicides.” “Maybe he hired someone --- a hit man.” “Nah! I just have this gut feeling about Carlson, that he’s totally innocent.” “Gut feelings are bullshit, Nick. No one knows that better than you. Let’s deal with the facts.” “That’s the problem, Manny.” Now he looked at me for the first time since we sat down. “There aren’t any.” The waiter suddenly emerged and looked at Foley’s half-eaten sandwich.” Was everything satisfactory?” “Oh --- “ Nick stammered. “ --- I --- I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.” The waiter filled the water glasses and removed the dirty dishes. “You left out a suspect.”
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