Rejection: Publishing Murder Mystery (Lou Drake Mysteries) (20 page)

HAROLD TIMOTHY NORWICH waited patiently while his boss talked on the phone.

“This’ll provide your group just as many tax breaks as it does for me,” Hennings said. “And once we get those old buildings demolished, everyone will suddenly think a new community center is a great idea.”

Hennings listened for a moment, smirking at Norwich while he did so.

“Look,” Henning said into the phone. “Bottom line, this project will put you in bed with all the right players you need to get your condominium development approved down by the river.”

Norwich let his attention wander, looking out the window at the impressive Manhattan view. He still thought of himself as one of New York’s best high profile defense attorneys, even though it had been years since the days when he was constantly in the papers or on television. Back then he had represented some of the most well known celebrities and business moguls ever to step outside the law in New York City. Now, as Hennings’ full-time private counsel, he spent much of his energy trying to stay out of the public eye.

Hennings finished the phone call with a good-natured laugh. He grinned at his lawyer.

“Man, I have those guys by the balls.”

Norwich nodded. “Sounds like they need us even more than we need them.”

“They need that zone variance and they know you sit on the riverfront development board.” Hennings adopted a false altruistic tone. “And of course the real winners will be the underprivileged folks who live near the new community center.”

“Of course.”

Hennings grinned. “Now you said there was something you wanted to see me about?”

“Are you aware of those two murders in Malcolm?”

“Yeah, I heard they are brutal. What about them?”

“My sources tell me this situation has gotten the eye and ear of Chief Smythe.”

“Don’t worry, that’s ancient history. And it’ll all be over and done with in a few months.”

“I get paid to worry about things like this.”

Hennings shrugged. “Whatever. Keep an eye on it if you want. And now that you mention it, did Smythe RSVP on the benefit?”

“You bet.”

Hennings grinned. “Who could say no to sick kids?”

“You would have had no problem with saying no when I first came to work for you.”

“Yeah, well, that was before I quit drinking and went to anger management. Now I love them.”

“Because they make you money.”

“And pay your salary,” Hennings shot back.

Norwich looked at his watch and stood up. “I’ve gotta get going. See you tomorrow.”

Norwich left the building and emerged onto the night-shrouded street. Misty freezing rain spotted his jacket as he walked the three blocks to Rockefeller Center. He stopped to watch the ice skaters. The apparent controlled chaos of the interweaving skaters was almost organic. As one element wobbled along the outside of the rink, another sped through in fluid grace without interfering with the others. It was so much like life.

His breath bloomed in small clouds as he walked alongside the ice and into the pavilion by the coffee shop. Norwich spotted the man he was there to meet. The guy was sitting at a table far away from the crowd watching the skaters.

Norwich joined him and said, “What’s new?” He kept his voice low, though he knew no one could hear them over the hubbub of the crowd.

“You got my money?”

Norwich sighed. He knew a cop’s salary didn’t go far, but this guy was always so damn anxious.

“Of course,” Norwich said.

He glanced around to make sure no one was paying them any particular attention, then reached into his jacket and slipped an envelope under the table.

“All right,” the watcher said, “here’s what’s been happening.”

He proceeded to fill Norwich in on the inside details of the murder investigations.

“So there’s no doubt this is a serial case?” Norwich asked.

The watcher shook his head. “It’s the same killer every time. He’s leaving numbered pages describing the murders. The FBI is all over it.”

This was so unfortunate. They only had six more months to sweat it out before the key stooge would have retired and the players could be dispersed to different precincts. Now the whole mess was under the microscope.

“Here’s what I want,” Norwich said. “I need you to get Drake to stay down until he’s out of the picture. This bullshit about him being back in civilian clothes and helping with the investigation is too risky.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Scare him, but not enough that he runs for help. Just so he gets the message and backs off.”

“Like what?”

“Use your imagination.”

* * *

Robin was completely bored as she stood behind the counter at Sweetum’s Doughnuts and watched the clock. Some cold nights drove in customers for hot coffee and a muffin. Then some nights were like this one and Robin felt like the last person an earth.

She wiped down the already clean counter, reorganized under the counters and refilled the sugar jars by the condiment counter. The phone rang.

“Thank you for calling Sweetum’s.”

“Hey Rob, it’s Kevin,” her boss said.

“Hey.”

“Still dead?”

“Dead as disco.”

“What’s in the case?”

Robin gave the glass a glance. “About half.”

“All right. You might as well toss it and close. No reason keeping the lights on for nobody.”

“You got it.”

She hung up and said, “Thank God.”

Half an hour later she had boxed half a dozen to take home for Drake and dumped the rest in garbage bags. She propped open the rear door, tossed the trash, and locked the dumpster. She gave the shop a quick look over. Good enough. She would be opening in the morning anyway.

The phone rang again and she grabbed it out of reflex.

“Thank you for calling Sweetum’s.”

“Just making sure you’re still open.”

“I’m sorry but we just closed.”

“So you’re the only one there?”

“Excuse me?” Robin said.

“That’s perfect,” the voice whispered. “I watched you the other night. I watch you every night.”

“Who is this?”

“I like the way you move when you work that counter. I’m watching you now.”

“You know what? Fuck you asshole,” she growled but the creep had hung up.

Robin looked nervously out through the plate glass windows and then hurriedly dialed Drake’s number.

“Baby? I need you to get down here.”

“What’s going on?”

“I just got a creep calling here. He said he was the one in the shadows the other night and he was watching me now!”

Robin’s voice came in gulps.

“Calm down hon, can you see anybody nearby?”

“No, I don’t know. I locked the door and I’m not leaving this store until you get here. Bring your gun.”

“Turn out the lights and hold tight, I’ll be right there.”

“Quick as you can, I’m—”

She screamed as the front window shattered. A fist-sized rock thumped to the floor. It skittered through shards of glass and came to rest against the foot of the empty display case.

Robin dropped the phone and ran to lock herself in the office.

* * *

Drake called 911 and told dispatch to send a car to the doughnut shop. Then he drove his Cherokee like a madman to the scene. He was the first to arrive and groaned when he saw the smashed window. He threw open his car door and hurried to the front door. It was locked.

“Robin?” he called in through the hole in the glass.

No answer. In his hurry he had not bothered with a jacket, so he took off his t-shirt and wrapped it around his fist and forearm. He used it to break away the remaining glass so he could step through the window frame.

Once he was inside he called out.

“Robin?”

“Lou?”

The muffled voice came from the office door.

“It’s me babe, you can come out now.”

Robin flung open the door and rushed into his arms. She hung on with a strength he hadn’t know she possessed.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m here.”

Robin let go and took a deep breath, seeming to regain some control.

“Are you okay?” Drake said.

“Yeah,” she said with a small nod. “Just spooked.”

“I didn’t see anyone when I was driving up, so it looks like whoever did this is gone.”

A patrol car pulled up outside and Officer Yarrow approached the shop with his gun drawn.

“Hey it’s me,” Drake called out to him. “Everything’s okay now.”

Robin unlocked the front door and Yarrow came in with his gun back in its holster.

“What happened?” he said.

Robin told him about the phone call and the rock.

“How long ago?” Yarrow asked.

She looked at Drake. “What do you think? Five minutes?”

“Yeah, about that.”

Yarrow looked at Drake, who was still naked from the waist up.

“What happened to your shirt?”

Drake pointed to the wadded up ball on the floor.

“Used it to clear out the glass so I could get in.”

“You were that hard up for a doughnut?” Yarrow said with a grin.

Drake glared at him. “This isn’t funny.”

Yarrow nodded. “You’re right, sorry.” He looked at Robin. “This guy on the phone. Did you recognize his voice?”

“No.”

“And nothing like this has ever happened before?”

“Like I said, I thought I saw someone behind the store a few nights ago.”

“But you weren’t sure.”

She hugged herself and shook her head. “Not really.”

“Okay,” Yarrow said. “I’ll write up an incident report. I know you’re scared, but try not to let it bother you. It sounds like a simple case of vandalism to me.”

“You think?” Robin said.

“Probably some punk having his twisted idea of fun. We’ll send extra cars around for the next few nights but I doubt we’ll run into him. These types are usually all bluster. He won’t want to risk getting caught.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Robin went off to call her boss, leaving Drake to look around at the chaos. More and more he was starting to feel like Malcolm was a very screwed up place.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
S
EVEN

KATHY MOREY WAS grateful to be free from the burden of examining the latest murder victim. Prichard’s team was a well-equipped army of focused investigators and they had set up shop in a separate location. She was able to return to the simpler tasks of examining blood cultures and preparing tissue samples for diagnosis.

She was alone in her office reviewing one of the coroner’s reports when someone tapped on her open door. When she looked up she was surprised to see Chief Smythe standing there.

“Dr. Morey, I’m sorry to intrude, but I need to discuss something with you.”

“Certainly,” she said, indicating the visitor’s chair at one end of her desk.

Smythe sat down and placed a thick file on her desk. Kathy could see the name Hennings across the tab.

“I’d like to keep this meeting confidential,” Smythe said. “Is that okay with you?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

He pointed to the file folder. “Are you familiar with the Hennings case?”

“I didn’t work on it, but I remember when it happened.”

How could she forget all the media attention the case had received, not to mention the constant talk around the office.

“I have a delicate question to ask and you’re under no obligation to answer. I was a Detective for many years and I tend to notice things most people would miss. When we met for the body viewing earlier I couldn’t help but notice an unspoken dialog between you and Captain Andrade.”

She feigned ignorance. “I’m not sure what you are getting at.”

“I doubt that’s true, but I don’t want to be out of line. It’d help me to understand something that has me troubled. My staff thinks I’m here to talk to you about pathology, so anything you share with me is completely confidential. I promise it’ll go with me to my grave.”

“Go on.”

“Do you have a personal relationship with Captain Andrade?”

Kathy felt her face blush. Was it that obvious what was going on with her and Andrade? Her first instinct was to deny everything.

“Chief, I—”

“Before you answer,” Smythe said, “it might help to know why I’m asking.”

She bit her lower lip and looked into his eyes.

“Okay,” she said.

“I have two reasons for being here. First, I need some help, but I also want to help you. I believe you could be headed for trouble.”

Frown lines appeared between Kathy’s eyebrows.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Smythe nodded earnestly. “Yes, I believe that’s true. And now I’m going to trust you with some information I haven’t shared with anyone else. I’m fairly certain there was a conspiracy that affected the handling of the Hennings case. I’m also convinced Captain Andrade was involved.”

The room suddenly seemed to have less air in it. Kathy swallowed and said, “Why does this have anything to do with me?”

“Because if you are in a relationship with the good Captain, then that will certainly come out in an investigation. You’d become a suspect as well.”

“But … but he never said anything to me.”