Conviction: Book 3 of the Detective Ryan Series (9 page)

Chapter 16-Ali

I spent the night at watching the firefighters extinguish the flames surrounding the evidence I needed. The first half hour was spent watching them rip open the metal gate so they could break into the store. It didn’t take them long after to put out the blaze, but I needed to wait until the Fire Marshall deemed it okay to enter the store, which wasn’t until hours later.

The moment I was given the go ahead, I rushed the store and searched for the back office. The charred remains of a desk, computer and monitors sat in a small confined area. Placing white gloves on my hands, I rummaged through the filing cabinets in search of the tapes, finding burned or disintegrated folders and paperwork. There was little hope for finding the tapes in good condition, but I continued looking through every cabinet and drawer until I found what I was looking for.

Behind the office door sat another warped filing cabinet that was consumed in the fire. Ripping the drawers open, there were piles of warped plastic and melted film.

Exiting the building, I found more officers who had sectioned off the block. “Has anyone tracked down the owner?” I asked. The officers shook their heads looking as if I asked them a question in Portuguese. “Of course not,” I mumbled. “If anyone comes down here claiming to be the owner, I want them pulled aside for questioning and to call the Ulster County Police Department immediately. She is a potential witness to an ongoing investigation.” Once they agreed, I hopped in my car and drove back to the station.

It was quiet inside. There were very few officers around, which meant there wouldn’t be too many distractions. It also meant I didn’t have to answer any questions about coming in during the middle of the night.

Pulling my chair out, I took a seat and tried to use a Google search to find the owner of the flower shop. It was easy to pull up the company name and information.  It listed the owner as Rosemary Lambert. Using our system, I was able to find Rosemary’s phone number and address quickly. I was tempted to call her, but felt the long day dragging me down. My eyelids slowly closed as my head rested on my folded arms on top of my desk. It didn’t take long for me to fall victim to my own fatigue.

The dream I had was so vivid, I thought for a moment I had woken up in James’ house. I was walking around the kitchen, rummaging the fridge for something, settling on two bottles of beer. I walked into the living room. James was already sitting on the couch watching the Yankees pulverize Boston again. I straddled his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me closer, placing his lips on mine. When I looked up, I saw Matthew standing behind the couch. His arms were folded over his chest, staring at me with disappointment. He turned to walk out the door, and I quickly followed suit.

We entered Amanda’s room at my old house, the one Matthew’s body was found in. I could see his body was still in the position I found it in on the floor. When I heard the gunshot, I turned to see where it came from. It was a low angle emanating from Amanda’s closet. I couldn’t see who fired the gun, but found Rodney’s unconscious body laying at my feet.

Matthew appeared to me once more. His hand cupped the side of my face. “Find my killer. Bring me justice.” Those were his only words as he slipped into the darkness.

I blinked repeatedly and glanced around the room. I was back in the station. The time on the clock showed six o’clock. I had slept at my desk for three hours. Lucky for me I didn’t drool or do anything embarrassing in my sleep. I did have a renewed interest in Matthew’s case, and wanted to take another look at it. Placing a note on the lieutenant’s desk, I decided to take one final look at the flower shop before the owner arrived.

Returning to Hooker Avenue, I could see the initial perimeter had been taken down. The firetrucks and ambulances had vacated the area, leaving a lone police car to stand guard. I parked across the street and walked up to the officer.

Displaying my badge, I introduced myself by title. “Where is everybody?” I asked.

“It’s just me and my partner. Everyone else went home.”

“Has the owner been notified?”

“Yeah, she should be down here in a little bit.”

“Good. Hopefully she can shed some light about what happened here last night.”

“You think she did it?”

“Anything’s possible,” I replied. “But no, I don’t think she did. She may know who did, and I’m very interested to find out.” I looked up at the store that just fifteen hours earlier I stood in admiring the floral arrangements. “You mind if I have a look around?”

“Knock yourself out, Detective.”

I pushed the front door open. Shattered glass crunched under my feet as I entered the store. The front didn’t seem to be too damaged by the fire. But the front end was of no interest to me. I wanted to see where the fire originated, and to see if there was anything of relevance to my cases left for me to use.

The office was exactly as I remembered it when the Fire Marshall allowed me to enter earlier. But there was one thing that was out of place. I remembered leaving the cabinet drawers open during my initial walkthrough. This time the drawers were closed. Call it police curiosity, or my cop instinct, but I knew someone else had been in that office after I left.
Was it an innocent coincidence, or was someone looking for the same thing I was
. Pulling the drawers open, I began to search through the remnants of tapes, searching for one that matched the date of Matthew’s death. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to work with. Most of the labels had been torn or burnt. There was no way to decipher which tape was the one I needed or if it was still there.

Believing the office would be a dead end, I decided to check the back of the store. The burnt smell increasingly grew worse with every step. Scorch marks surrounded the base of the backdoor. I knew this was the starting point, but had no idea how the fire was set while all the doors were shut and the gate pulled down and locked. But I did know someone wanted the place to burn down. Based on the markings on the floor, they hoped the fire would spread fast.

I exited the store and walked around back. If my hunch was correct, I would find similar markings on the other side of the door. After confirming my theory, I realized the arsonist was either really good or really lucky. Whatever accelerant they used must have seeped in through the crack at the bottom of the door. When they struck the match and lit the door on fire, it carried inside the store.

I had enough of the sight and smell to make my assumptions. My only hope was the store owner would be a little more forth coming with answers to my questions or that she had backup tapes hidden somewhere other than her store.

Turning the corner, I heard a car door slam. Rosemary Lambert’s pudgy frame came into view as her shrieks carried down the block.

“My store! What happened to my store?” Her beady little eyes looked to the officer for answers, but quickly found me standing fifteen feet away. “You,” she growled. “You did this. You burned my store down.”

I’ve been accused of a lot of things in my life, but burning a store down was never on the list. “I didn’t do this,” I replied. “I tried to save your store from burning down.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Look lady, I drove by to apologize last night and saw flickering lights. I got out of my car to check it out and saw your store was on fire. I called the fire department.”

“Probably after you set the place on fire.”

The officer and I exchanged a “what the fuck” look, knowing the owner made no sense.

“You wanted that evidence so bad you broke into my store to get it. Then you set the place on fire to cover your tracks.”

This was the most absurd accusation I had been accused of, and had no clue where this woman was pulling it out of. Maybe it was shock, maybe it was her grief spewing hate, or maybe it was just her pure hatred for me.

Rosemary lunged toward me, but was stopped by the officer before she took more than a step or two. “I want that woman arrested for trespassing, harassment, and for setting fire to my store.”

“Excuse me?” the officer replied.

“You heard me. She was told not to come back to my store without a warrant. And if she wanted to talk to me, she should contact my lawyer. You see for yourself. She’s standing on my property.” She turned her beady little eyes on me again. “Where’s your fucking warrant?” I didn’t reply to her question. “That’s what I thought. Arrest her, Officer.”

He placed his hands at her elbows trying to establish eye contact. “Ma’am, Detective Ryan tried to save your store. I assure you, she had nothing to do…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Rosemary shoved him to the side and charged me. Her fist was clenched as it flew through the air, connecting with my chin. Before I could respond, the officer had Rosemary Lambert’s arms pinned behind her back and her face buried in the hood of his car.

“Sorry about that, Detective. What do you want me to do with her?” I could’ve let her go with a warning, but since she already had it out for me, I decided to teach her a bit of a lesson.

“Put her in the back of your car. Maybe a timeout will teach her violence doesn’t solve anything.”

The officer did as I recommended, but placed a call in to dispatch to inform them of the incident. Within minutes, my phone came alive.

“Where the hell are you?” James asked.

“Well, good morning to you too.”

“Cut the crap, Ali. Where have you been?”

“Well dad, I’ve been at the flower shop and the station for most of the night. I decided to stop back on my way home.”

“You realize how worried your sister and I were?”

James and I may have been partners, but the way he sounded seemed more like I was his property. I didn’t answer to him, but my sister was another story. With everything she had been through in the last year, I didn’t want to worry her.

“I’m fine. I’ve been doing my job.”

“With no backup. That wasn’t the best move when you have a psychopath playing games with you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why did I hear about an assault on an officer in front of the flower shop?”

I had a feeling that was the reason for his call. I told him what happened with the store owner and how the situation was handled. Before I finished my story, I could hear his car starting. “What are you doing?”

“I’m on my way down to the store. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Don’t worry; I got this.”

“No, you don’t. The store is in Dutchess County. That’s my jurisdiction, which means it’s my case.”

“Don’t pull this territorial crap again. I had enough of it during our last investigation. This is part of my investigation, and you’re my partner.”

“As of now, there’s nothing that ties the two cases together. Add the fact she assaulted an officer, and now she has charges to answer for.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You can’t make me.”

“We’ll see what Lieutenant Esposito has to say about that.”

He hung up on me before I could scream my head off at him. Knowing he was probably on the phone with the lieutenant at that very moment, I decided to head back to the station and take another round of his verbal abuse.

“Excuse me, Officer. Detective James Thornton will be here shortly to speak with that woman. Don’t let her out until he gets here.” I knew it was mean, but there was hope her time in the backseat would allow Rosemary to take her anger out on James for me.

It took me another hour to get back to the station. Lieutenant Esposito stood in the doorway to his office waiting for me. His stubby crooked finger curled towards him signaling for me to follow him. Clasping my hands behind my back, I acted as innocent as possible.

“Quit the fucking act,” he snapped. “We both know why you’re being called into my office.”

“I’ve been doing everything by the book. It’s not my fault the woman freaked out and hit me.”

“You shouldn’t have gone back, and you should’ve at least called me to let me know what happened. I had to hear it from your partner.”

“Fucking tattletale,” I mumbled.

“Be happy he’s looking out for you, because you’re doing a piss poor job of doing it yourself.”

“Fine, I’m sorry. Can I go now?”

“Yes, you can go home.”

“What? Lieu, you can’t be serious.”

“You put in more hours than you should have thanks to this fire. So you’re taking the rest of the day off. And that’s an order.”

I knew there was no winning the argument. Instead, I stood up and opened the office door. Sitting on my desk was a large box that wasn’t there when I left for the flower shop.

“Where did that come from?” I asked.

“Special delivery,” Esposito replied. I felt his hand on the small of my back. “I got your note and dug up everything I could on all three cases. I suggest you get some rest before going through it; you’re gonna need it.”

“Thanks, Lieu.” I exited the office and quickly scooped up the box, bringing it with me to my car. Opening it from the top, I could see the first file had Matthew’s name written on the side.
Yup, it was going to be a very long day.

Chapter 17-PM

The Puppet Master took a huge gamble with his attacks. In eliminating the boy, he could have easily damaged his own car and would have left ample evidence for the police to find him. Lucky for him, the kid decided to veer off the road instead of hitting his brakes or try to edge his way back into the lane.

Going back to the flower shop was the riskiest move with surprising success. He didn’t know if the gas worked itself under the door enough before he lit the match. Seeing the flickering light between the metal slots on the gate brought a smile to his face. The two loose ends that could potentially implicate him were eliminated.

He was only a few blocks away when he caught sight of a familiar face at a stop light. “Detective Ryan,” he mumbled under his breath. The light turned green and Ali turned onto the block the Puppet Master was leaving.

He waited to see where she would go before making his next move. Changing direction, he drove back to Hooker Avenue and watched from the corner as Ali Ryan frantically pulled and pried the bottom of the gate. She knew what was hidden inside. She was desperate to get the tapes as the Puppet Master was to destroy them.

Once the fire department showed up, he knew there was a possibility the police would get their hands on the tapes once the fire was out. He could only hope there was enough damage done to tamper with the images.

He waited hours before Ali entered the building. Much to the Puppet Master’s relief, she vacated the flower shop empty handed after being in there for twenty minutes. He watched her walk to her car and leave the crime scene.

That’s unusual. She never leaves a crime scene early
. He wondered if he should follow her, but knew she was either going back to the station, or back to the house. Either way, it would be difficult to see what she was up to without drawing attention to himself. Instead, he waited for his next move to fall into his lap.

After hours of watching the police and the fire department walk in and out of the flower shop, they decided to leave. Only one car was left on patrol. Of course their attention was on anything but the store, figuring there wouldn’t be anyone stupid enough to try anything with a squad car parked out front.

Pulling his car around to the back parking lot, the Puppet Master got out and started looking around the back of other buildings in the strip of stores. Slipping between two buildings, he carefully made his way back to the florist, ensuring the two officers did not see him.

Maneuvering his way inside the door, he ducked down to keep out of view of the windows. Crawling on his forearms, he made his way to the back, finding the remains of the office with ease. Getting to his feet, he scanned the room and found the filing cabinet filled with video tapes. He sorted through the pile with his leather gloved hands, ripping the labels off of each one until he found what he was looking for.

He pulled the tape and placed it under his shirt. Knowing it would be impossible to exit through the front door with the two cops sitting in the car. He was lucky to blend in with the burnt building, the night sky, and the lack of street lighting. He doubted he could pull it off again. His only chance was a backdoor escape.

Taking a deep breath, the Puppet Master readied himself to make a run for his car. He kept the keys in his hand in preparation. Another deep breath and his feet moved from a walk to a brisk jog. His body hit into the emergency bar, knocking the door open. There was no alarm, but that didn’t stop him from breaking into a sprint to his car. Once he was inside, he took a deep breath and glanced around, wondering if someone was watching. After noticing the shop’s back door closed behind him, he doubted anyone was coming after him.

“Now to make sure no one ever sees this tape.”

Driving back to the Mid-Hudson Bridge, the Puppet Master pulled his car to the side of the road and left it next to the bike path. Stepping over the barricade, he took in the beauty of the night with the bridge lights glowing up above him. It was calming to be up there alone. No cars, bikers, or runners to get in his way.

A part of him wanted it to be over, to live a normal life again. He wanted to be free, free to be himself again. But the urge for revenge was too great. He needed to hurt Ali Ryan as much as she hurt him. It was her fault he was sent down the path of the unforgiven. To right the wrong of an injustice.

He looked down at the tape. “It began with Ali Ryan, it will end with her too.” Smashing the tape across his knee, the plastic cracked in half. His fingers pulled at the tape, drawing as much of out from the spindles as possible before he tore it from both sides. Taking one piece in his hand, the Puppet Master threw it as if he were throwing a Hail Mary Pass in the final seconds of the “Big Game.” He saw it land in the distance. Wrapping the tape around the plastic, he set a piece on fire with his lighter and flung it like a Frisbee into the water.

“Good luck, Ali. You’ll need it.”