Playing God (12 page)

She nodded. "He films Lulu all the time."

"What does he do with the tapes?"

"How the hell should I know? I told you. I didn't ask questions."

Alana the fearless was afraid of Kevin O'Leary. He repeated the question. Looked at his watch, elaborately casual. "I've got all night, how 'bout you, Terry?"

Kyle nodded. "I'm enjoying the scenery."

"Oh, fuck you both." She folded her arms and turned her back.

"Let me explain something," he said. "In case maybe you've forgotten this. You know stuff. I'm a cop investigating a murder. I ask you questions. What I want you to do is answer as best you can, without swearing or lying or flirting or flouncing, okay? I'm not interested in what's between your legs, just what's between your ears." He raised his voice. "When I don't get enough sleep, I get real cranky. So just answer the goddamned questions and save your games for someone else."

He slapped his palms on the table, and leaned toward her like a hungry bear studying a morsel. "Tell me about O'Leary and the videotapes."

She cringed back against her chair. "I think he sells them."

"To whom?"

"Guys who are in them, I guess."

"Before he sells them, does he keep them in the apartment?"

"How should I..." she began. Burgess shifted angrily. "He hides them. Bragged that he had a great hiding place where no one would ever look." Her hand crept across the table and grabbed his. "I can't talk to you about this, Joe. Don't you see? He'll kill me."

Her hand was icy. He thought about getting her a blanket, then thought better of it. If she wanted to act like a difficult whore, he was going to treat her like one. He disengaged his hand and pushed away from the table. "Why will O'Leary kill you?"

"O'Leary's a pig." She tossed her hair. "He hurts girls. Sometimes hurts them real bad. He's always trying to fuck me. He's rough and dirty and he hurts me. Tries to make me cry and beg him to stop. Like I said. A pig. He wants me to work for him. I'm trying not to..." Her gaze swept the room, avoiding their faces, humiliated by the admission she was about to make. "But he scares me so bad, Joe, I do stuff for him sometimes, to, like, keep him happy."

"Like the tapes?" She nodded. "How does he sell the tapes?"

"I don't know. I only know about the hiding place 'cuz he was bragging."

"He was taping you and selling it and not giving you a piece of the action?"

She forced a smile, trying to get her bravado back. "I was The Piece of the action."

"Seems like you got screwed for money, then screwed out of more money."

"So maybe you wanna be my business manager?"

"What's O'Leary look like?"

"Ugly. He's got this big head, like the guy in the Peanuts cartoons, with stick-out ears, and he shaves it, so his skull is all pink and he's got a nose like a pig's snout. He's got a big potbelly and no ass, so his pants always look like they're falling off. His hands are real rough, and he's missing the tip of one little finger. One of his front teeth's broken."

"Any idea where I might find him?"

"If he's not at his place? His mother's up in Rockland. I don't know if her name's O'Leary, though. Sometimes he's there." She slumped wearily in her chair. "Can I go home now? Please? I've tried to cooperate."

"Terry'll find someone to take you home." He turned off the tape and pushed his chair back. "Jesus, Alana, I sure hope you fuck better than you cooperate."

"You bet I do," she said, "but you'll never know, will you, Copman?"

He went out, closing the door behind him, and found Perry. "Stan, you get anything from that witness? The one who saw someone walking away?"

"She doesn't know if it was male or female, just a dark figure on the sidewalk. Whoever it was got into a car that was parked down the block and drove away."

"She was sure it was a car?"

Perry slapped a mocking hand against his forehead. "That was dumb. She said car, I wrote down car, didn't ask a follow up question. How'd it go with Alana?"

"We're getting there. She says Pleasant left with the other woman—someone she's never seen before—to go to Salernos, and that Pleasant seemed very smitten. She also says that O'Leary videotaped the evening's festivities."

"Melia's working on that warrant. You want pizza?" Burgess glanced down at the pizza, saw Dr. Lee's shiny scalpel slicing into Pleasant's stomach, and felt his own stomach turn. "Think I'll pass," he said. "Gotta go see some people about a dead doc."

Chapter 9

He got a fresh radio and shrugged into his coat. Found Perry and Kyle and Alana finishing the pizza. He nodded at Alana, not liking the easy familiarity of the scene, then motioned for his detectives to step away. "I'm going to pick up some stuff from Jen Kelly, see Pleasant's ex-wife, and pay a duty call on Ted Shaw. You guys can finish up with the ladies—ask what they know about Kevin O'Leary. Keep an ear open for anything about Pleasant and drugs. O'Leary and drugs. O'Leary videotaping sex parties. About the mystery blonde, Karen, who was partying with Pleasant and Alana last night. Then see what you find at O'Leary's place. And Stan?"

Perry cocked his pen and waited.

"Give Vince the head's up on the drug angle. Alana says word on the street was Pleasant was a source for Oxycontin. You okay with finishing up here, then doing O'Leary's place?"

Perry nodded. Still eager. "Assuming Vince can find a judge. Hell of a good thing none of us needs sleep, ain't it?"

Burgess went in the locker room and got out his razor. If the man glaring back from the mirror paused on a street corner, the cops would pick him up as a vagrant. Sighing, he mowed his chin, combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and threw cold water on his face. He looked so much better he considered giving this all up for modeling.

Jack Kelly answered the door, one hand on the knob, the other holding the baby, barring the doorway until Burgess identified himself. Kelly was a block of a man, not more than 5' 8" and an easy 200 pounds, but the impression he gave was not of fat but of mass. His curly graying hair had receded from his forehead. He had thick, aggressive eyebrows, a wide and friendly face.

"Have to be careful, detective," he explained. "We've had a lot of people ringing the doorbell today. Jen doesn't need that." He jerked his head toward the living room. "She's in there. Lying down. I'm a little worried about her." He beckoned Burgess into the kitchen. "Sorry. I didn't want her to hear, and Jen's always had ears like a... like a... hell. I don't know. Doesn't miss much, that's all."

Kelly settled the baby into a plastic seat on the counter, tucking the blankets carefully around it, the infant tiny in Kelly's big hands. "You want a sandwich or something? I was about to have one. We've got tuna or turkey or ham and cheese subs. I brought 'em myself. Jen doesn't eat and Steve, he was so fussy, it had to be all natural, low fat, low cholesterol, absolutely fresh. She spent half her life finding food to please him."

"Tuna sounds good."

"Milk? Beer? Coffee? I brought the beer, too." He unwrapped two sandwiches and put them on plates. "Take a load off, detective."

Burgess was glad to. He'd been at this so long his eyes ached and he was beginning to feel light-headed. He put his coat over the back of the same chair he'd sat in twelve hours ago. Jack Kelly put the sandwich in front of him, along with a cup of coffee he hadn't asked for, and sat down across from him.

"I'm worried about Jen," he repeated, leaning forward confidentially. "She seems unconcerned. Indifferent. She's always been quiet, but this is something else."

"Shock," Burgess said. "She was already worn out—pregnancy, the baby, her suspicions about her husband. I don't know how resilient she is but people need time."

Kelly passed him some papers. "Here's that list you wanted."

Burgess scanned the sheets, noting the neat, precise handwriting and the careful inclusion of details. Pleasant had carried a lot of credit cards. "Mr. Kelly, tell me about your son-in-law."

"He wasn't really my son-in-law."

"Jen calls you her father. You're the one she wanted in a crisis. That means you had an on-going relationship with her and her husband."

"You'd think so," Kelly grunted. "I don't think Stephen had relationships with people. He was so eager when he was courting Jen, so desperate to capture her, to marry her, but I don't think it was ever Jennifer the person he wanted. It was Jennifer the possession. Unless it was Jennifer, Ted Shaw's daughter, and access to Ted's money. I tried to warn her. Should have known better. She's got her mother's romantic streak. These women fall in love, you can't do a damned thing about it."

"That what happened when her mother fell in love with you?"

Kelly's smile was shy. Pleased. "You might say that."

"But her mother isn't here. You are."

"Clara would be. She was devoted to her daughter." He shook his head. "My wife's dead, detective. I'm the only parent Jen has." He hesitated. "Well, you know that's not true. I'm the only active parent Jen has." He slapped his chest with two big palms, a loud sound. In its plastic nest, the baby shifted, made a sound. Kelly watched until it settled down. "I'm just a dumb, working class guy who cares about her. I'm the father who read her stories and taught her to ride a bike and went to her soccer games. Down the road a piece is the guy who was her wallet, who believes biology is destiny. She goes by Kelly but legally she's Jennifer Shaw."

"Her wallet?"

"Shaw's always been too busy to bother with Jen but she is his only child. He cares how she's turned out. How well she lives. It was important that she go to the right schools, know the right kids, live the right life. When she broke her leg, he was too busy to visit, but she had the best doctors and the biggest bouquets."

"You sound bitter."

"Only on her behalf. It was good for me that Ted didn't want a hand in the day-to-day rearing of his kid. It let me have a relationship with her without a tug-of-war."

Jen had been luckier than she'd probably ever know. Half his cases these days came from broken homes and reconstituted families. Ex-husbands stalking, assaulting and killing their wives or their wives' new boyfriends. Boyfriends and second husbands beating and molesting the children. Stepsons beating up their step-mothers. His sisters always asked why he'd never married. Partly, he'd been so busy and ambitious he'd never found the right girl, one who'd put up with his crazy hours, his passion for the job. Partly, he saw so much of the dark side. Couldn't imagine how a woman could live with that. Live with him living with that.

"You wanted to know about Stephen?" Kelly smiled his shy smile again. "Ever see a movie called
The Manchurian Candidate
?" Burgess nodded. "Well, you ask about him and I find myself nodding and saying Stephen Pleasant was the nicest, kindest... then I say, 'wait a minute, Jack.' Steve was so good at presentation. He was so superficially great, genial, polished, just so damned slick. It wasn't until you got away and took a hard look that you realized it was all packaging."

Who was Jack Kelly? He looked like a stevedore, talked like a shrink. But Burgess knew, start making assumptions about people based on appearance and you missed a lot. People surprised you. Sometimes the surprises were pleasant. "Was he unkind to Jen?"

"I thought so. But I'm not sure she knew it, until she found out about the other women. Jen's so young, detective. She hadn't had a lot of experience before Stephen. She didn't know how she was entitled to be treated. She didn't know what to expect or how to negotiate it for herself. Steve was there after her mother died, offering what she saw as security, comfort. Jen's a natural caretaker." His smile was ironic now. "She thought getting to wait on Steve, trying to satisfy his whims, was a privilege. And Shaw was pleased at her marrying an up-and-coming doctor, even if he was divorced."

"How did she learn about the other women?"

Kelly took a deep breath, held it, slowly let it out. "I told her."

"Why?" Burgess asked. "How did you find out?"

"She asked me to. She called me up one day, she was about six months pregnant then, and..." He eyed Burgess across the table, the beady eye of a father assessing a date. "Understand this. Jen's not an emotional girl. She's not given to firestorms and sulks. And she was sobbing so hard I thought she must have lost the baby. I went right over. She met me at the door, threw herself into my arms, and said, 'Daddy, I think Stephen is seeing another woman.'" His eyes stayed on Burgess's face. "A girl like Jen, so naïve and so trusting, she thought it had to be her fault. Some way she'd failed."