Keegan 00 Soft Case (9 page)

I didn’t think so either.

“How long you been working here?”

“Four years.”

“As head of security.”

“It’s not really called that.”

“How many men they have?”

“Two.”

“Where’s the other guy?”

“Been sick for a week now.”

“Interesting.”

“You think so.”

“Yes, I do. Got his phone number?”

“Yes.”

“Convenient that he got sick, don’t you think? That might have something to do with the tapes, huh? Couldn’t record that day?”

“I never said that. What the hell is your problem?”

“No problem,” Rick said, interjecting. He saw what I was up to. I wouldn’t say that he disagreed with what I was doing, just how I was going about it. I shouldn’t have brought so much attention to the tape. If gave him too much warning. I realized that right when I looked at Rick’s face. Dipshit I am. “Anything strange happen yesterday?”

“Other than my boss killing himself?”

“You know what I mean,” Rick said, holding back a bit of anger. I really wanted to see Rick go off. He needed it, and I knew it would be nothing short of hilarious. I needed a good laugh. “Nothing that I can think of.”

“What was Mr. Mullins’ mood like?”

“He seemed distracted.”

“Just distracted?”

“Yeah.”

“He didn’t seem suicidal?”

“What does suicidal seem like?”

This guy was a real wiseass.

“Did he seem different?”

“He’d been different for weeks. Always bitching about one thing or another, if you want to know the truth. I think the stress was finally getting to him. He seemed like he was cracking. I’ve seen guys in positions like his do that all the time. It’s a shame to see it, too.”

“I’m sure it is,” Rick said.

“He had a lot of pressure on him. He was getting out of the only business he knew, that was weighing heavily on his mind. He told me about it a few times, when I drove him places. On top of that, he had the Senate thing. He wanted to do that, but was unsure of his chances. I thought he would have been great at it. Not that I know much about politics. Hell, I don’t even vote.”

Man, this guy got chatty fast. Very chatty. Was there something going on here. Should I have been worried? I kept thinking about it. I kept paying attention to everything he said. I watched every facial expression he made. Just in case. I preferred to watch Roseanna, or Sondra, but hey, not all of my job was glamorous.

“Okay. So he spoke to you often.”

“Not often. But he did speak to me.”

“And you think he was suicidal. You think it was possible.”

He thought about that. “Possible. I’m not sure about it, but definitely possible. Unbelievable.”

“What?”

“That a man who had all he did would kill himself. It really doesn’t make sense, when you think about it.”

“Money isn’t everything,” I said.

“Obviously not.”

“Thank you for the help,” Rick said. “We’ll see you soon.” Nice one, Rick. Let him think about that one for a while. Actually, I didn’t know what to think of Steve. He might have been alright. Then again, he might not have been. Too soon to tell. I decided to go with my initial impression, one which I made of just about everyone I met. I didn’t like him.

“Nice going,” Rick said, getting back into the car.

“Relax. We’ll get the tape.” I hoped we would, because if we didn’t, I knew for damn sure that my pal Rick would throw me right under the bus, and tell Geiger it was my fault. No question about that. It felt nice to be able to trust a partner so superficially. Real nice.

“You gave the whole thing away. If we do get a hold of the tape which I don’t think we will, they’ll have done something to it.”

“You really need to work on your Conspiracy Theory problems. First off, we’re still working on a suicide case, if you look at the evidence. We have two people who were close to the victim who say he was capable of suicide. I just think I ruffled that guy’s feathers a little bit. And you should be happy I did, because if I didn’t, we might not have gotten anything that made us suspicious of him. I helped him point his own finger at himself. At least it gives us something to work on.”

“Okay, you’re right. But you could have been a little slicker when it came to the tape. All I have heard is how good you are when it comes to questioning, and so far I have seen nothing.” “Maybe you just aren’t looking in the right places.”

“I’d have to be looking at a woman’s tits or ass to see what you are seeing.”

“Again with that. Maybe you should get a good look at an ass or two. Might make you feel like a man again.”

Rick’s face turned red. Target hit.

He opened the passenger door, and sat in the seat. Unusual tactic, to not respond at all. Maybe I destroyed the target. I never could tell. I got into the car myself, started the engine, and looked at Rick, who seemed to be seething.

“You really have a one track mind.”

“No, my mind has several tracks. They all do lead to the same destination, however.”

This produced a chuckle.

“Piece of work, you are.”

“So I have been told.”

“How many of your partners have you sent to the department psychiatrist?”

“You partnered with me a few times. Haven’t seen you in his office.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t go.”

We had to go to the police station in Valley Stream, which was a good distance away, and I was hungry. Being that the Mullins’ lived only a few blocks away from All American Burger, I figured it was a perfect late afternoon destination. Not the ideal place for a guy like Rick to eat, but I was sure he had a protein bar on him somewhere.

I pulled into the parking lot, which for 3pm was pretty busy. “What are you doing?”

“Eating, what does it look like?”

“Here?”

“Yes.” I turned off the engine. “What do you want? They have hot dogs, and the best double cheeseburgers you’ll ever eat in your life.”

“They have anything that won’t clog your arteries? You know, something that doesn’t have more fat than an entire cow?”

“I believe the old-fashioned cardboard containers are low in fat, and high in fiber. On top of that, I think they finally succumbed to the pressures of the 20th Century, and got diet soda.” Rick made a face.

“You don’t want anything?”

“Do I have to get a double?”

There was hope. “No, they have singles, too.”

“Get me one. Without cheese.”

What a tightass, but he was learning. I walked inside the building, which looked a lot like a Carvel, if you are familiar with that structure. If not, picture a building about half the size of a McDonald’s. The counter and the kitchen were the same size, but eliminate the seating area. All of it. There were tables and chairs outside. As soon as I entered the place, my nose was bombarded by one of the best smells known to man, grilled onions. All good burger joints did something special with the onions. All American was no exception. Their onions were comparable to White Castle’s in flavor, but they were not diced, add more flavor. You certainly didn’t order All American before a big date, but I mentally checked my calendar and saw that I was free for the indefinite future, plenty of time to clean the smell from my breath.

A middle-aged man wearing a stained apron stood behind the counter. Despite the cars in the lot, I was the only one in the place.

“What do ya need?” he asked. He looked like a burger cooker. He had meaty arms, and thick gray hair, and eyes that looked like they could cook the burgers themselves.

“Let me get two doubles, fries, and a single with no cheese.”

He raised his eyebrows to that one. “Drinks?”

“Large coke, and a…” I didn’t know what to order nature boy. Water or diet soda? I remembered something I had read on the Internet about how NutraSweet might be bad for you, and figured I’d play it safe. “And a water, please.”

Another raise of the eyebrows. Rick had a way of making you popular. The term “high maintenance,” made popular by the movie When Harry Met Sally, intended to be applied to woman, certainly applied to Rick. He most definitely ordered a salad with dressing on the side. I wondered if he fantasized about putting on pumps and wearing miniskirts. I decided, right there, that I didn’t want to know.

The man behind the counter, whose name was Joe; I noticed that he had a name tag when he turned back around, placed my food on the counter.

“6.25,” he said. That was the thing about All American. It was cheap. So, you had to consider risking the big date. Hell, you had to consider taking the big date with you. Talk about saving cash. Remember, I didn’t date too often.

I handed him a twenty, and he gave me the change.

“Thank you, Joe,” I said.

“Take care.”

I brought the bag into the car. Man it smelled good.

“That stuff smells like shit,” Rick said.

“That means it’s good for you,” I said.

“Yeah, right.”

“Just eat it, and stop bitching. Please.”

I doled out the food, and we ate it the way fast food should be eaten, in your car. Sure, it leaves a foul stench that gets worse over the course of a few days, but that was just part of the experience.

Rick took a careful first bite, like he was eating something for the first time. This was, of course, impossible. No one of God’s earth, or at least no one in the US part of God’s earth, made it into their 30’s without having a burger. Unless they had whacko, hippie, plant eating parents. Eureka. I discovered Rick’s problem. Well, maybe I did.

“Any good?” I asked.

“Not bad. I’ve had better, but it’s been a long time.”

There went that theory. Boom.

“Don’t eat meat?”

“Red meat. I eat it sometimes, but not more than twice a month.”

“You keep track of those things?”

“Yes. You should always monitor what is going into your body. You are what you eat.”

Which made me a cow wrapped in a flour tortilla. Could be worse. And Rick was a chicken-flavored protein bar, with Brussel sprouts on the side. Or something like that.

“I’m not so concerned about such things.”

“You? I would have never known.”

Wiseass.

“You spend all of that time worrying about what you eat, checking your shit for fiber, and you get hit by a bus at the age of 35. What difference does it make?”

“That’s possible, but look at it this way. I make it to 75, and have a colon that still works, while other people are sucking down Metamucil like it’s going out of style, and have to worry about colon cancer and colostomy bags. It might be a good idea to plan for the remote possibility you’ll make it past fifty.”

Bastard had a point, but I wasn’t going to let that ruin my enjoyment of one of life’s simple pleasures. Unfortunately, he already had, a little.

“I don’t count on such slim possibilities.”

“Well, you should.”

“Right now, I am going to enjoy this burger. I suggest you do the same. If I am not mistaken, one of the worst things for your health is worry, so I would like to remove that killer from myself right now.”

“Do what you want. I was just trying to help.”

“You failed.”

“You know I am right.”

“I said, shut up.”

“Okay, okay.”

I knew he was trying to be helpful, but he was also trying to be a bit of a pain in the ass. It was in his nature. He was a nag. Man, the more I thought about him, the bigger the list of bad qualities he had.

After a few moments, he asked, “What did you get me to drink?”

I reached into the bag and pulled out what looked like an 8 ounce cup. “Water, I played it safe.”

“I do drink soda, on occasion.”

“Then, on this occasion, you can get up and get it yourself. I had your health in mind.”

He looked at the cup, a frown on his face. “I can’t eat a burger without a soda. The two go hand in hand.”

“Then don’t eat the burger. Give it to the starving seagulls out there. I’m sure they wouldn’t need a soda to wash it down.”

Rick sighed. “I’ll just drink the water.”

Damn right you will, I thought. I had myself set up. Napkin on the lap, container opened in the right position to catch any falling residue. I wasn’t going to upset that by getting out of the car to get the pain in the ass a soda. No freakin” way. If he wanted a soda, he should have asked for one. It wasn’t like predicting what the hell he would eat or drink was an easy process. Again, I felt bad for his wife. Very bad

Seven

We made it to the 5th Precinct in Valley Stream by four. It was small, like most Nassau County precincts. The entrance consisted of a small sitting area and a high counter, where two uniformed officers sat. It almost looked like a judge’s bench, minus the gavel, of course. It was made of wood-Formica, and looked to be about fifty years old. It wasn’t a bad place, but it had a very interesting smell to it, like damp wood. There were two people there, probably inquiring about parking tickets, or something like that. One of them was a decent-looking blonde woman, about thirty. She looked like the sort of woman who had been through a lot. You know, the type that had about five bad boyfriends, two of which did some time. I could see it in her eyes, which had permanent rings around them. The sort of woman you’d meet in a local bar. One that would get you through a night.

We walked up to the counter. One of the guys in uniform, a gray haired man with ice blue eyes, looked at us. He instantly recognized us for who we were, city cops.

“I’ll get Walters for you,” he said in a deep voice. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you,” I said. We went to sit down.

“Ma’am,” he said, gesturing for the woman to come to the counter. She got up. She was wearing tight jeans, 80’s style, which displayed a decent butt. Very decent.

“We heard from his lawyer,” I heard the man said. “We can press charges if you’d like, but I’m not sure it will do anything right now. We really don’t have much to go on.”

“But he came by the house.”

“You did speak to him on the phone.”

“She didn’t say anything.”

“He’s not supposed to come by the house.”

I’d seen this before. Shame, too. The woman had been involved in a bad relationship, and had gotten a restraining order. Restraining orders were as useless as a broken watch, and at least the broken watch was right twice a day. My guess was that she stayed in contact with him. It gets tough when someone is emotionally attached to someone that was no good for them. The woman probably had a good heart, trusted people, and paid the price for it. Of course, this was only my assumption, but I had seen the symptoms. I know that some people might think I was jumping to unnecessary and unfair conclusions, but that’s the way these things went. And the law just wasn’t written to protect these women. In my opinion, a guy has a history of terrorizing women, they should be put away, of have their balls removed. They weren’t fit for society. If you can’t handle male-female relationships, you shouldn’t be allowed to have them. Case closed. Forward complaints to my lawyer.