Lloyd Corricelli - Ronan Marino 01 - Two Redheads & a Dead Blonde (29 page)

“You seem amused,” I said.

“I just think it’s funny that you keep ending up in the ER and I’m always the one on duty.”

“I plan it that way.”

“Sure. So what happened this time?”

“It’s over this time,” I explained. “At least I think it is.”

“Good, because I’m getting tired of stitching you up. I assume you’re going to be a big tough guy and not go with anything to numb the pain,” she said.

“I think this time I am going to do the smart thing,” I replied. “In fact, I hope to start doing the smart thing in general.”

“We all have to start sometime,” she quipped with a slight smile.

Thirty minutes later, I was all stitched back up and she covered it with a clean bandage.

“Since you’ve decided to drop the macho veneer and do the right thing with the stitches, I want you to spend the night here,” she said.

“You think I’m in that bad a shape?”

“You’ve been in here with some pretty serious injuries three times in the past month and lost a lot of blood.”

“It was the past six weeks,” I corrected.

“That’s still ridiculous. I know pro athletes who don’t get hurt as much as you do.”

“I’m far too weak to argue,” I sighed.

“Good. When you’re released, I want you to make sure you get plenty of rest and don’t do anything to rip those stitches out again,” she ordered. “You need to let your body heal.”

“I may not follow your directions after I get out of here,” I said. “I should probably be supervised.”

“I can refer you to a number of qualified home nursing agencies.”

“I was thinking maybe a doctor.”

“I don’t do house calls.”

“Too bad, because I have a really interesting comic book collection.”

This sparked her interest and she raised an eyebrow. “What’s your best one?”

“
Amazing Fantasy
#15 in very fine condition.”

“Wow, Spiderman’s first appearance.”

“Yeah, it is. Are you messing with me?”

“Maybe.”

She smiled and walked away, closing the curtain behind her. Guess what I didn’t ask?

They put me into a private room and I fell asleep minutes later. Before I dozed off, I swear I saw Shea patrolling the hall. I woke up the next day late into the afternoon feeling no better than when I went to sleep. I forced myself up out of the bed and after being given the okay from the duty doctor, checked out. They wheeled me down into the lobby where my brother was waiting for me.

“Shea called me,” he said.

“Why am I not surprised? Isn’t this how we started this whole thing?”

He patted my back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“How can you be so cool about this? Four more people are dead including a Lowell detective.”

“A dirty one.”

“He was still a cop as were the two others.”

“So that makes it all just fine and dandy?”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. They apparently deserved what they got.”

“Speaking of which, next time you want to set me up with a date do me a favor and don’t.”

“Diane’s involved?”

“A little more than just involved.”

He let out a long sigh and helped me to his car. What could he say? We had a big problem with Diane and I wasn’t sure what the hell I was going to do about it.

“You up for talking to Shea at his place?” Marc asked.

“Can we get something to eat first?”

“The Raven?”

“It’s close,” I said.

He nodded.

“You didn’t tell our parents did you?” I asked.

“No need to get them in a panic,” he replied. “They’ll find out eventually.”

“You’ve finally figured it out.”

“I’m a slow learner sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” I laughed.

****

An hour later with stomachs full of eggs and greasy bacon, we found Shea waiting in his office with Garcia, Marcotte and Smolinski.

“There’s the man of the hour,” Shea said.

“Nice work, Marino,” Marcotte stated. “We underestimated you.”

“I told you not to,” Shea replied.

People often underestimated me and I learned as a kid to use it to my advantage.

I shook Garcia’s hand and patted his shoulder.

“How you doing kid?” I asked.

“I’m okay. My pride is bruised more than anything,” he lamented.

“You’re lucky that it’s just your pride. Morley was going to kill me.”

“Lieutenant Shea was just explaining everything that happened,” Smolinski said.

“How? I seem to remember passing out on the bridge.”

“I spoke to your cousin,” Garcia said.

“You realize that your cousin is a figure in organized crime,” Marcotte offered.

“Heaven’s no,” I chuckled.

Shea gave me the hairy eyebrow meaning I needed to cut the sarcasm today.

“You should have called and gotten us involved,” Smolinski said. “We might have been able to prevent the entire incident.”

“Sorry, guys but I lost your number,” I replied.

The two staties looked at each and other and shook their heads.

“We’re not the enemy, Mr. Marino,” Smolinski stated.

“I never said you were but both of you ran out of here like you had a bad Mexican lunch last time I was here with you.”

“We should have been a bit more diligent,” Marcotte explained.

“A bit more diligent?” Marc exclaimed. “My brother almost got killed because you guys didn’t believe him.”

“That was our bad, Chief Marino,” Marcotte said.

We could have gone back and forth all morning pointing fingers at each other because I’d certainly made my share of mistakes. Marc was about to say something in response but I put my hand on his chest and waved him off.

“So what do we know about the guys who got killed?” I asked. 

“The guy who fell from the bridge was named Jim O’Brien. He was a vice detective for Medford,” Marcotte explained.

“The other was named Dave Fisher,” Smolinski added.

“Also Medford vice?” Marc asked.

“Yeah,” Shea said softly.

“You might find it interesting to know O’Brien had a patched-up gunshot wound on his arm,” Shea said. “We took a blood sample.”

“Which will most likely match the blood found in the van that did the drive-by,” Garcia added.

“What about the guy on the roof?” I asked.

“Name’s Dennis Erickson, another one of Duffy Fitzpatrick’s shooters. We recovered a sniper rifle,” Smolinski said. “Any idea who killed him, Ronan?”

I shrugged. They knew damn well who did it but I wasn’t going to say it. They didn’t seem all that concerned about it right now.

“Duffy tried to make damn sure I didn’t walk away,” I said.

“Are you guys going to arrest him?” Marc asked.

“We’ve got nothing concrete linking him to this,” Shea answered. “Ronan’s testimony is all hearsay and it’ll never stick.”

They all nodded and unfortunately, Shea was right.

“Well, that just about wraps this up then,” Marcotte said.

“Nice neat tidy package,” Smolinski added.

“Not exactly,” I said. “There is still the matter of Diane Dunn.”

“Who’s she?” Smolinski asked.

“Congressman LaValle’s Chief of Staff,” Shea replied.

The staties looked at each other and frowned.

“So much for a nice tidy package, huh boys,” I quipped.

Marc left and headed back to Westford as Marcotte and Smolinski spent the next hour taking my statement with Shea and Garcia sitting in. I was really tired and would have preferred giving it the next day, but they insisted and pumped me full of coffee. They wanted a written statement from Tony, but he had disappeared into the night after talking to Garcia. He was damned good at that. When I couldn’t remember where he lived, they got pretty pissed and made empty threats I didn’t bother responding to.

I owed Tony big time and wasn’t about to have them show up at his condo and hassle him for things unrelated to this situation. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t use an alias and it wouldn’t be all that hard for the troopers to find him if they really wanted to. Since this entire situation was a huge embarrassment to local law enforcement, I was hoping they’d just let it go.

We were close to being finished but there was one last thing to cover; the most uncomfortable part of this situation, Diane. It bothered me that I’d allowed her to sucker me in like that especially so soon after Karen’s murder. I explained to Marcotte and Smolinski that Morley told me she was involved and had arranged for him to murder Karen.

“You’ll have to testify,” Smolinski explained.

“Sure, but any good defense attorney will blow me out of the water.”

“A decorated war hero and former federal agent? No way.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Bullshit, that adds credibility to your statement,” Marcotte said.

“Under normal circumstances, I would have to agree.”

“I’m detecting a ‘but’ in there,” Shea interjected.

“I don’t understand,” Marcotte said.

“He’s fucking her,” Shea said bluntly.

I shrugged. “They’ll just say I’m a jilted lover with an ax to grind.”

“Maybe not. When was the last time you had sexual relations with her?” Marcotte asked.

“Last night before the incident,” I said sheepishly.

“Jesus, what a mess,” Shea growled. “Your dick really gets around, Ronan.”

“Let me understand this,” Smolinski said. “You were sleeping with the murder victim who was set up to be killed by the woman you’re sleeping with now but you didn’t meet her until after the first woman’s death.”

I’d never thought of it that way. Oprah was definitely going to be banging down my door or at least Jerry Springer.

“It really sounds worse than it is,” I assured them.

“You’re going to have to go in with a wire and get her to talk,” Shea informed.

“She’s way too smart for that. The lady is a Harvard law grad,” I replied. “She’ll be expecting that.”

“Then what would you suggest?” Smolinski asked.

“She knew when I didn’t come back after my meeting that I was either dead or figured out what she did. Why don’t you guys haul her in and talk to her?”

“Can’t do that,” Smolinski replied.

“Why not?” I asked.

“She’s Congressman LaValle’s chief of staff. He won’t appreciate that,” Marcotte said.

“Especially with the election coming up next week,” Smolinski added. “If the media got hold of that, it would be a huge debacle.”

“So?”

“You don’t understand politics here, do you?” Marcotte asked.

“Oh, I do and I get it perfectly. This woman is involved in a case where seven people were killed but since she works for a prospective U.S. senator, you guys don’t have the gonads to work this case the right way,” I stated.

“Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch if we have any further questions,” Smolinski said and he and Marcotte exited without another word.

“Anyone else just have deja vu?” I asked.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ronan,” Shea said. “This is now their case.”

“Fucking jellyfish,” Garcia added rubbing his temple. 

My head was starting to throb from the caffeine overdose and fatigue. There had to be something besides my word to link Diane to this. I pressed my brain for an answer and it hit me.

“Did either of the Medford guys have a cell phone?”

“There was one in their car,” Garcia said.

“Good. How about Morley?”

“He had a department cell,” Shea explained.

“Check all their call records. I’d bet my left nut you’ll find a call to or from Diane Dunn on one of their phones,” I offered.

“I’ll be right back,” Garcia said.

Five minutes later he returned with two cell phones in plastic evidence bags.

“What’s her number?” Shea asked.

I had to check my own phone for the number.

“978-555-2974,” I said.

Garcia handed one bag to Shea and flipped through the numbers on the other through the bag.

“I got it,” Shea said. “This was Morley’s phone.”

“Nothing on this one,” Garcia said. “But what does the phone number prove?”

“Maybe with Ronan’s testimony and this, we’ll have enough. Put these back into evidence and let the uh…jellyfish know,” Shea ordered.

It was weak but it was better than nothing. I stood up just as the door flew open and Superintendent Halloran entered. His face was glowing like a red runway light and it looked like his head was going to explode.