One Step Ahead

Collateral Damage

November 11th, 10:45 AM

      "I think you might need a bigger cup, Lieutenant," Keith Harris informed Sanger, as he made his way to the coffeemaker for the third time in less than two hours. 

      "More like an IV drip," he replied. "I'd barely gotten to sleep when I got the call to the Suarez place, and by the time I got back home, I had less than two hours before I had to be up again, so I'm basically running on fumes right now."

      "Yeah, I can see that. No offense, but my grandma would have said that you look like you've been dragged through a knothole backward."

      "That's pretty much how it feels."

      They made their way to the conference room, where Weintraub and Han had already seated themselves. As he eased himself into a chair, Sanger noticed that Weintraub had a folder lying on the table in front of him, so he elected to start there.

      "Okay, looks like Irv has something he'd like to share, so I'm gonna give him the floor," he stated, motioning for the older detective to begin.

      "Yeah, I did a check on that big-ass cabinet that Marlena had hauled in the other day, the one that had all the jewelry and stuff in it," he said, waving the folder in the air. "The dude that had it gave her his receipt for the thing, so I checked in at the store where he bought it. It's an antique store in midtown, owner's name is Roland Hartley. Apparently, the buyer was basically a friend of a friend, just lookin' for somethin' to fill up some space. Sounds to me like the guy shoulda just gone to IKEA and put the shit together himself."

      "Did he have any information on the wardrobe itself?" Sanger queried. "Like maybe where he got it, anything like that?"

      "I was just about to get to that, and this is where it gets sort of interesting," Weintraub responded. "Hartley said it's not the sort of thing he usually deals with, but apparently one of his employees felt sorry for the guy who was selling it, since he was tryin' to come up with money for his ma's funeral expenses. Her name was Millicent Brown, and supposedly she'd owned it for years, some sort of a family heirloom or somethin'. Obviously, she couldn't be our guy, so I did some checking on her family, and you'll never guess what I found."

      "Probably not, so go ahead and tell us," Eloise Han spoke up, barely managing to keep her impatience with the older man out of her voice.

      "Mrs. Brown had a grandson who lived with her for awhile this summer. After he got out of prison. I went through his file, and called his PO, and the dude was nothin' but trouble. Did some short hauls for burglary and check scams and the like, before he went big-time and pulled a ten-year stretch for using his old lady for batting practice when she asked for a divorce. Did just over four before he got paroled and went to live with grandma. He was in lockup when this started, so he's not our guy, either, but my guess is that he got up to his old tricks and broke into somebody's house. Probably went in, found the stuff, and used grandma's cabinet as a hidey-hole until things cooled off a bit and he could fence it."

      "So, if we can find this guy, maybe he'd talk if we cut him a deal," Eloise interjected, leaning forward in her chair. "If we agree not to charge him with the burglary, maybe he'll point out the house, and we can do surveillance or something."

      Weintraub was shaking his head before she had even finished the thought. "No can do, El. I was thinking that myself before I called P and P, but they put a stop to that idea real damn quick. We can't talk to him, because he's been dead for almost five months. Got himself bumped off behind a Chinese restaurant back in July."

      This statement triggered something in Sanger's memory. "Irv, was this guy named Gary, or Gerry, something like that?"

      Appearing somewhat taken aback, Weintraub replied, "Yeah, as a matter of fact, it was. His name was Gerald Eugene Kirke, he was thirty-five years old, and had three kids with the ex-wife, that he wasn't allowed to contact." Opening the folder, he removed a sheet of paper and slid it to the center of the table. "Here's a picture of the guy, if you're interested."

      The other three leaned forward to see a picture of a man with a heavy, round face and a thin mustache which drooped past the end of his chin, topped off with black hair cut into an outdated, mullet-style cut.

      As they gazed at the picture, Harris turned to Sanger and inquired, "How did you know that, Lieutenant?"

      Looking at each of the detectives in turn, he said, "Before I answer that, I want to make it perfectly clear that this information does not leave this room, at least until I tell you otherwise."

      They all nodded their understanding, and he went on, "I had a visit from Doreen Arrington a few days ago, she came to see me about some files you'd asked about, El."

      Han nodded, holding up a finger as she swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "Yeah, I was checking up on a couple of names that Lena had made notes about. She still hasn't called me back, I guess they got backed up with that big apartment fire the other day."

      "Well, when I saw her, she was most definitely not a happy camper. It seems that some of her people have been a bit slipshod in getting lab results into the system in a timely manner, because she told me that she had to access the files individually to find out that whoever killed Kirke left DNA, which has been positively matched to at least one of the murders that Lena was looking into."

      The other detectives all stared at him, slack-jawed with surprise. Harris was the first to recover, muttering, "Well, sounds like you were onto something, Irv."

      "Yeah, I guess your idea about the break-in was spot-on," Han continued. "And somehow, this nutjob found out he was the one who did it, and killed him. But he couldn't get his stuff back, because Kirke had hidden it in the wardrobe."

      "Sounds like a good working theory to me," Sanger observed. "Which, I'm guessing, is why this guy has such different methods for these murders than his older ones. The street girls and the pimps are for enjoyment, and these are sort of an intimidation tactic, because the bastard's afraid we're getting too close. Lena and Keel were basically loose ends, like Suarez last night. Unfortunately, his sister was there at the wrong time, so she became collateral damage. I'm just glad those kids got out before the whole house went up."

      "Were they able to provide any information?" Harris asked. "Did they get a look at the guy?"

      "Unfortunately, no. From what I understand, they heard a struggle, and their grandmother sent them out the bathroom window. We do have a witness who reported seeing the same car that another witness spotted cruising around Lena's neighborhood the other night, and I've had an APB put out to every department within a hundred-mile radius. It's unusual enough that it shouldn't be hard to find. We also have a vague description of the driver. Both witnesses say that he's big, enough so that he has to hunch over the wheel to fit into the car. He may also have dreadlocks, so he's not worried about trying to blend in."

      "So what's our plan, then?" asked Weintraub.

      "I want you to go back through your old case files, and see if you find anything that might be linked to this guy, cases that we might have a fingerprint, or even DNA we can test. I'd like to have some sort of idea just what we're dealing with, and put together the best case we can against this twisted fucker, so we can get him off the street for good."

      Before anyone could respond, there was a tap on the door, and another detective, LaMarr Pike, stuck his head into the room. "Sorry to interrupt, Lieutenant," he apologized "but the Chief wants to speak to you, preferably yesterday. I guess the media are making too many wild speculations, and he wants a full report on what's actually going on."

      Using the edge of the table to lift himself from the chair, Sanger said, "All right then. Meeting adjourned, I guess. Get started on your assignments as soon as possible, and keep me posted." Then, as he started to follow Pike out of the room, he wondered aloud, "Do you suppose I have time to grab another cup of coffee?"

A/N : Slightly shorter chapter tonight. Sorry about that, but I just needed to get some of the loose ends worked in before the serious action starts in the next couple of chapters. Stay tuned, lovely readers!