Dust To Dust (13 page)

Read Dust To Dust Online

Authors: Tami Hoag

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #Mystery, #Crime & mystery, #Crime & Thriller, #Minneapolis, #Minnesota, #Gay police

Verma pointed the cigarette at him, ash raining down on the tabletop. "I am not going to St. Cloud.You talk to my attorney."

"Your attorney, the overworked, underpaid servant of Hennepin County? Yeah, I'll look him up. See if he remembers your name." He stood up, went around the table, and put a hand on Verma's bony shoulder. "Have a seat, Mr.Vermin."

Verma's butt hit the cha'r *th a thud. He crushed out the c'

I wi
igarette on the tabletop and lit another.

"I didn't kill no cop."

"Uh-huh. So the county attorney charged that outjust for the hell of it? just 'cause he wanted some poor grunt in his office to do more paperwork?" Kovac made a face as he slid back down on his own chair. "Give me a break. He charged it out because it fit you to a T. Same MO as the others."

"So?You never heard of a copycat?" "You don't strike me as a role model."

"Yeah? So how come I got the deal?"Verma asked smugly. "They didn't have shit on me for that murder. No prints. No witnesses." "No? Well, you're the fucking Shadow, aren't you? So if you didn't

do Curtis, how come you had his watch in your apartment?"

"It was a shock to me," Verma insisted. "I sure as hell didn't put it there. Fucking Timex. Why would I steal that?"

"Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin"" Kovac said. "That could

come 1
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in handy where you're going. You knew Eric Curtis
he went on. "He ran you in for soliciting-twice."

Verma shrugged, pursing his lips and lowering his lashes coyly. "No hard feelings. Last time I offered him a freebie. He was cute. He said, 'Maybe some other time.'Wish he would have taken me up."

"So you dropped by his place for the rain check. One thing led to another . . ."

"No,"Verma said firnily. He looked Kovac in the eye as he drew hard on the cigarette. The smoke came out in a forceful stream directed at Kovac's chest. "Look, Kqj ak, those other cops tried to stick me with that Curtis murder, and they couldn't.The county attorney tried, and he couldn't."

He leaned across the table, trying to look seductive. It made Kovac's

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skin crawl. "I know you're hard for it," he murmured, "but you can't stick it in me either."

"I'd rather stick it in a light socket."

Verma threw himself back in the chair and laughed dementedly. "Spoken like a man who doesn't know what he's missing.11

"Believe me, I'm not missing it."

Verma snickered, then stuck his tongue out as far as he could and waggled it obscenely. "You don't want me to suck you off, Kojak? Maybe stick my tongue in your ass?"

"Jesus Christ." Kovac shoved his chair back from the table. He pulled a brown muffler from the pocket of the overcoat he had hung over the back of the chair, went across the room to the corner where the video camera hung, and draped the scarf over it.

Verma sat up straight, one hand fluttering at the base of his throat. "Hey, man, what you do that for?"

"Uh-oh, Renaldo!" Kovac whispered, wide-eyed, as he came back toward the table."I don't think that video camera is working anymore!" Verma tried to scuttle off the chair, but Kovac caught him by the

back of the neck and held him firmly in place, leaning down over his ' f

shoulder rom behind.

"The only thing I want to put up your ass is the toe of my shoe," he said softly. "Cut the crap,Vermin. You think I don't have people in St. Cloud who owe me favors?"

"I'm not going to-"The pressure tightened on his neck, cutting him off. His shoulders came up to his ears.

"My sister's kid is a guard up there," Kovac hed. "He's a big dumb fuck straight off the dairy farm. Not too bright, but he's loyal as a dog. Too bad about his temper."

"Okay! Okay!"

Kovac let him go and went back to his seat.

"Can't blame me for trying," Verma pouted, reaching for the Salems. Kovac pulled them out of reach, shook one out, and lit up, telling himself it was a tactical move rather than caving in.

"You've got that rugged thing going on,"Verma said, playing coy. "so hot."

I'Verrm*n..." "What?" he asked with a great show of exasperation. "What d'you want from me, Kojak? You want me to cop to Curtis? Fuck you. The deal is done and I didn't do him. The county attorney didn't press it

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cause they got shit. But they'll let it hang on my rep. They'll say they got me cold for Franz and saved the state some money on a trial. And that's okay by me. Won't do me no harm to have the boys at the Heights think I did a cop. But I- didn't do Curtis.You want to know who did Curtis, you ask your homicide sergeant Springer. He knows who did Curtis."

Kovac let that hang in the air for a moment, as if maybe he hadn't even been paying attention. He looked off into the middle distance, smoking, wondering how sick it was to actually enjoy the feel of tar and nicotine settling in his lungs.

"Yeah?" he said at last, turning back toVerma. "Then why didn't he nail the son of a bitch?"

"On account of the son of a bitch was another cop." "Says you."

"Says that good-looking boy from Internal Affairs."

"I don't know who you mean," Kovac said, nerves tightening. "Lean muscle, pretty, like aVersace model."Verma closed his eyes and hummed to himself "Yummy."

"Uh-huh. So this IA weasel comes around and talks to you. He tells you balls-out he thinks a cop whacked Curtis?"

Verma stuck out his lower lip and slouched. Kovac wanted to smack him.

"Yeah, I thought so," he said. "Whatd he ask you about?"

Verma shrugged. "This and that. Stuff about the murder. Stuff about after the murder.The investigation-I use the term loosely." "And you told him what?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"'Cause I'm asking you.You oughta be happy about that, Renaldo. You rank above IA. Then again, so does the clap."

"I tell him I didn't kill Curtis and I don't care how many cops want me to say different. Not him. Not Springer. Not the uniform." "What uniform?"

"The one gave me this," he said, pointing to the higher of the two bumps on the bridge of his nose. "Said I was resisting."

"I apologize on behalf of the department:' Kovac said without remorse. "This uniform have a name?"

"Big dude," Verma said. "Studly Steroid, I called him. He didn't like it. His partner called him B. 0. He didn't seem to mind that," he complained, flinging up a hand in disgust. "But I guess that was short for

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something besides the way he smelled. I read his name on his chest just before he knocked me out. Ogden."

"Ogden," Kovac repeated, the flashback coming so fast it damn near made his head swim: Steve Pierce wrestling on the floor ofAndy Fallon's kitchen with a human moose. The moose stumbling to his feet with blood gushing from his nose.

Ogden.

V E R M A G 0 T A deal because your people fucked up," Chris Logan said bluntly as he dug through a drift of paperwork on his desk. "Talk to Cal Springer about chain of evidence. Ask him if he knows dick about the specifics of a search warrant."

"Something was funky about the evidence?" Kovac stayed on his feet near the door of Logan's small office, ready to bolt with the prosecutor, who was due in court in five nu*nutes.

Logan swore under his breath, still staring down at the mess on his desk, hands on his hips. He was a tall, athletic type. Early thirties, with good looks and a big chip on his shoulder. A tough guy with a law degree and a quick temper.

He was a good prosecutor. Ted Sabin's sword arm, seeing as the county attorney rarely tried a case himself

"Everything was wrong," Logan mumbled.

He dove for the wastebasket sitting beside his desk, tearing through crumpled paper, discarded candy wrappers, mutilated bags from half a dozen take-out places in the skyway system that connected into the government center. He came up with a yellow wad the size of a softball, spread it out, and scanned the handwriting. After a moment he blew out a sigh of relief and rolled his eyes heavenward. He crammed the paper into the briefcase and headed for the door.

Kovac followed, then matched him stride for stride.

"I'm due in court," Logan said, weaving his way through the population in the hall outside the county attorney's offices.

"I don't have a lot of time, myself," Kovac said. He wondered if Savard had followed through on her threat to call his boss. She was too tough a read to say for s%re one way or the otherWho could say how nk

long before Leon-,
nk d him in for the Big Talk.

They stepped into an empty elevator and Kovac badged the people trying to get on behind them.

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"Police business, folks. Sorry," he said, hitting the CLOSE DOOR button with his free hand.

Logan looked unhappy, but then, he looked that way a lot of the time.

"Everything we had was circumstantial," he said. "Prior association, motive,Verma's MO. But there were no witnesses placingVerma at or near the scene, and there was no forensic evidence. No prints. No fibers. No bodily fluids. Verma had jacked off at the other crime scenes. Not with Curtis.We don't know why. Maybe something made him leave the scene early. Maybe he couldn't get it up.Who knows? It could have been anything."

"So, what was the deal with the watch?" Kovac asked as the elevator landed and the doors pulled back to reveal a human hive of activity.

The hall outside the courtrooms was perpetually packed with wheeler-dealers, shysters, losers, the frightened, the bewildered. All summoned to feed themselves into the machine of the Hennepin County justice system.,

"So, some idiot uniform claimed he found it on Verma's dresser, but the whole deal stank to high heaven'
" Logan said, angling for a courtroom door. "It was O.J. and the fucking bloody glove all over again. No way we were getting it admitted. And in light of the last few lawsuits against your department, Sabin didn't even want to try."

"Even though the vic was a cop," Kovac said with disgust.

Logan shrugged, heading for the counsel table nearest the best air vent in the room. "We couldn't have won the case. The city didn't want another lawsuit. What was the point of pressing for it? We got Verma to cop to Franz. He's going away."

"On murder two'
"

"Piggybacked on assault with intent, on felony robbery. It's no lightweight stretch. Besides, he killed Franz with Franzs own baseball bat.Weapon of opportunity. How could we argue premeditation?"

"Was there ever any feelingVerma didn't do Curtis? That maybe he really was being railroaded?"

"There were some rumors Curtis had been harassed by other patrol cops because he was gay. But it didn't add up to murder, and the circumstantial case spelled outVERMA in big fat caps."

Kovac sighed and looked around the room. The bailiff was joking

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with the clerk.The defense attorney, a squat woman with a frizzy gray bun and huge clear-rimmed glasses, set her mega-briefcase on the defense counsel table and came over to Logan with a hopeless smirk on her face.

"Last chance for a deal, Chris."

"In your dreams, Phyllis," Logan said, hauling a file as thick as the Bible out of his case. "No breaks on kiddie porn freaks."

"Too bad you don't feel as strongly about murderers," Kovac said, and walked away.

W H Y' D Y 0 U Q 0 to Verma?" Liska asked, plucking a french fry from the red plastic basket Kovac's food had come in. She was late. He'd ordered without her. "Lying sack of shit"' she added.

"You've met him?"

"No." She swiped a second fry through the puddle of ketchup on his plate. "They're all lying sacks of shit. That's my sweeping generalization of the day."

"You want something?" he asked, hailing the waitress. "No.. I'll just eat yours."

"The hell you will.You owe me ninety-two thousand french fries as it is.You never get your own."

"They're too fattening."

"What? They're less fattening if I order them?"

She flashed him a grin. "That's right. And besides, you're gonna gain weight 'cause you're quitting smoking. I'm doing you a favor. Why'd you go to Verma?"

Kovac sat back from the burger, his appetite souring. He'd chosen Patrick's out of habit, and regretted it. As always, the place was populated by cops. He had claimed a booth in the rear and put his back to the corner. He felt a little that waycornered. He didn't like what Verma had told him or what Logan had alluded to; didn't like the knowledge that if he were to pursue this look into Andy Fallon's life, most of the other players would be cops, and there was a fair chance not all of them would be good.

"Because if IA was involved in the Curtis thing, I can't say why. Savard wouldn't tell me:'he said, keeping his voice in the low register of confidences. "Maybe they were looking into the actual murder, like

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your guy said. Or maybe they were looking at the investigation. I wanted a feel for it before I went to Springer for answers."

"Cal Springer couldn't find shit in a cow pasture," Liska proclaimed, then ordered a Coke from a slouchy waitress. "But I've never heard anyone say he's rotten."

"He's an idiot," Kovac declared. "Pompous prick. He spends more time trying to organize union socials than he does on his caseload. Still, this Curtis thing looked like a slam-dunk. Even Springer shouldn't have been able to screw it up. ButVerma says he didn
't do it."

Liska made her eyes and mouth round. "No! An innocent man i - U'

n jail.

"Yeah, he's pure as the driven snow," Kovac said with heavy sarcasm. "But here's the deal. He claims a cop threw down Eric Curtis's watch in his place. Ogden."

Liska's brow furrowed. "Ogden? From yesterday?"

"The one and only. An allegation like that would bring IA in. Logan told me the situation smelled so bad, Sabin didn't want to touch it. And Ted Sabin doesn't smell blood in the water, then climb out of the pool. Especially considering Curtis was a cop.

"Curtis was a gay cop," Liska reminded him. "Who was a victim of a criminal targeting openly gay men. You think the mayor and her stooges want a media spotlight on that?"

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