The Ashes of an Oak (23 page)

Mike tutted and crossed his arms. He didn’t have the patience for this. Frank shot him a look that told him to hold his horses.

‘I thought I’d killed her. So did my boss. Turns out I had a thing in my brain, a growth…’

Lonny let out a high pitched laugh. ‘A tumour? You had a tumour?’ He clapped his hands and jumped up and down in his seat. ‘That is priceless. That is so funny. I bet you thought you were crazy.’

Frank smiled uneasily. ‘I did…’

‘Well, you’re not!’ growled Lonny. ‘I am.’

He leapt at Frank, his manacled hands raised above his head, ready to strike.

Mike jumped round the table and grabbed him around the neck, then rolled back, while the uniform sprinted across the room, helped turn him and pin him down.

Frank lay on the floor and looked at the ceiling, wheezing, feeling foolish, feeling weak.

He could hear Lonny screaming, high-pitched like a dog locked in the darkest of rooms.

He picked himself up and brushed himself down.

‘You okay?’ said Mike breathlessly as he rocked with the struggling body of Lonny beneath him.

‘Yeah,’ said Frank. ‘He’s all yours, Mike. He’s all yours.’

Frank didn’t go back into the room. He’d reached the limits of his strength that day. He went out for a meal and talked to some strangers in a bar, then at nine-thirty, returned to the precinct to see how things had gone.

Mike was in his seat. The place was quiet. Pretty soon the night shift would be dragging in the bottom feeders and the sharks.

He pulled a chair over and sat next to Patton.

It turned out the psych had been right. Lonny worked in a low paid job, at the abattoir. It was there that he had hung up and drained Jake Doyle. Doyle had been alive when his throat was slit, but he couldn’t call out because Lonny had gagged him. As the blood had flowed, Lonny had ripped away the gag and listened as Doyle had tried uselessly to scream. It lasted seconds. Unconsciousness came very quickly. Lonny described how he sat upon a chair and watched the blood drain, right down to the very last drop.

All their suppositions had been right; about Mrs Dybek, about George Curtis, Robinson Taylor and Jennifer Hamblett. All the theory had been right.

But the truth was that Lonny could probably have gone on killing for years if it wasn’t for that random lump of extraneous tissue in Frank’s head.

Laura Jenkins had had cancer for a year. It had started in her ovaries and spread. There were lumps underneath the skin on her abdomen which betrayed the fact that it had spread. Lonny had done his best to look after her, but there were certain things that should never be shared between a mother and son and he had left her to scoop her own waste from the bed, preferring instead to deny her existence.

When he put his head around the bedroom door one morning three weeks ago, she was dead. He closed the door and left her.

When asked why he had killed the people he had, Lonny simply shrugged and said that they were there and, like the man with the urge to climb the mountain, he just had to kill. It was nothing personal. It was just something he had to do.

When asked if he had killed his father, he said yes. He refused to say any more about that.

‘Fine,’ said Mike, happy to leave that one for the psychs. The whys and wherefores could go fuck themselves. He had a bad man behind bars, that was all that mattered to Mike.

It wasn’t until the Astle girl was mentioned that Lonny showed any signs of agitation. No one had any right, he said, to copy his work. That was why he had left the note. It was a warning, he said, to anyone who tried to imitate him, that he would betray them, that he would tell the world the truth, that it was not the imposter’s work he left behind.
He
did a proper job. He would not allow them to muddy his reputation in such a shoddy way.

They had no right.

Frank was glad the guy was off the streets, but he felt little satisfaction.

Sunday

Chapter 32

The next morning, Frank saw Steve for the first time since he had heard of the death of James Cowdell.

Emmet had the sense to get them in the office as they came in. He wasn’t going to let this hang over them, not now they had caught the Token Killer.

‘I’m saying you could’ve waited,’ said Frank. He looked tired, more than tired, like sleep had just become a comforting rumour.

‘And I’m saying,’ countered Steve, ‘that I did what I had to.’

Frank sat in a chair not looking at his partner. His foot shook in agitation. ‘You went to interview a murder suspect, your words, not mine, on your own? You couldn’t have taken a uniform with you? You don’t think you
should
have taken a uniform with you?’

‘In hindsight, maybe. If I’d known that you were going to get your pants in twist…’

‘My pants in a twist? You’re damn right my pants are in a twist. You know how I felt about it and you did it anyway.’ He turned to Emmet. ‘And you let him do it. So fuck you too, Emmet. Fuck you too.’

Emmet raised a warning finger. ‘Watch it, Frank or you’ll be back on the sick list! Don’t question my decision-making. I mean it.’ He then pointed the finger at Steve. ‘And I shouldn’t have to tell you something like that. You just don’t pull that shit, Steve. Internal Affairs will ask you why you went in without any form of backup? What will you say? ‘Because the Captain didn’t say I should’? They’ll throw away the damned key, man. Now, you’re both on desk duty for the time being, Frank because you’re still not fit enough for the streets and Steve because you’re officer involved. Do I need to send you to separate rooms like kids? Well, do I?’

‘No, sir,’ said Steve.

Emmet looked at Frank. ‘Frank? What about you?’

‘No, Captain.’

‘It’s Sunday. We should be at home, but we’re not because this precinct has got its hands on a serial killer. Let’s wrap up the paperwork, put a lid on it and enjoy the moment, shall we?’

The two detectives nodded.

‘Good. Steve, you might be on thin ice with this shoot, so play nice. You may go now. Frank, I’ll have a word.’

Steve got up. He hesitated and looked at Frank. Frank was disinclined to look back at him. Emmet shooed him away.

‘How are you, Sinatra?’ asked Emmet once the door was shut.

Frank smiled reluctantly. ‘Pissed off.’

‘You and Mike did some great work yesterday.’

‘Thanks. I just feel kind of flat.’

‘That’s normal. Post-arrest blues. You put everything you had into this, plus all that other stuff you’ve had to deal with. It’s understandable.’

‘I know, but Mary’s killer’s still out there. We’re not any closer to shutting that down.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. Listen, do some paperwork. In fact, do what you want, but you can’t work on Mary’s case, you know that. Her and the Astle girl are out of bounds. Any half-decent lawyer would tear any case we had apart if they found out you were involved. You’re welcome to ride your desk, but don’t go all GI Joe on me. Okay? Anything happens to you, IAD’ll hang me out to dry and watch the crows eat my carcass. That’s if Dolores or Benoît don’t get to me first. They both seem to have taken a shine to you.’

‘Okay,’ said Frank. ‘I’ll  find something. I’d rather be here than at home doing nothing.’

‘You going to be able to work this out with Steve?’

‘In time, I guess.’

‘You want a divorce? I’ll partner you up with Mike or Bob.’

Frank laughed. ‘What? And split up that happy couple? No. We’ll work it out. One way or another, we’ll work it out.’

Frank sat at his desk with tight lips for half an hour. He knew that he was the older guy, the senior guy, the guy with the responsibility to set the fracture, but he was so mad at everything at that time that there just didn’t seem to be room for Steve any more. That made it worse. How could he not make room for a man who had been his friend and partner for all those years? He was there before James and would be there long after James was just a memory.

‘You should’ve told me,’ he said across the desk without looking up.

For a second he thought that Steve wouldn’t reply, then he heard a pen being put down and the creak of Steve’s chair as the younger detective leaned back.

‘I know,’ said Steve. ‘I’m sorry. After what you’ve been through, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not about what I’ve been through, Steve, can’t you see that? You give IAD half a chance to get their claws into you…’

‘You’re right. I know.’

The two lapsed again into silence.

‘I had no choice with the kid, Frank,’ said Steve after a minute.

‘I don’t doubt you, Steve. Not for one second do I doubt you. If you say that’s the way it went down, then that’s the way it went down.’ Frank waged a pen at Steve as he spoke. ‘But, if you’d gone with a uniform, he might not have tried it and you wouldn’t be giving IAD their chance. I liked him, Steve. I’m stuck with this…’ He cringed as he tried to find the right word. ‘…disappointment. It’s suffocating. I really trusted him, you know?’

‘I know. Again, I’m sorry.’

‘Me too. I should know better than to be pissed off with you, but you’re kind of like a son to me, you know. Now that Mary’s gone…’

‘Shut the hell up, Frank,’ said Steve with a smile. ‘You’ll have me crying into my coffee.’

Frank returned to his paperwork. ‘Okay. Enough said. Now do some work.’

Frank felt relief wash through him. The equilibrium was restored, normal was back in the house.

At nine-thirty Kelly Peters called Frank.

‘Fancy some lunch?’ she asked.

Frank was immediately suspicious. He’d never even shared lunch at work with Milt. ‘For real?’

‘Yeah. I just want to see how you are, you know? Milt wants me to keep an eye on you. The feminine touch. I think he thinks he’ll start to blubber if he gets all soft with you.’

‘Sure. What time?’

‘Midday? Luger’s?’

‘Jeez! You paying?’

‘My treat. Come alone, okay? Easier to talk.’

‘Sure. I’ll meet you there.’

Frank put the phone down.

Steve saw the look on Frank’s face. ‘What’s up?’

‘A pretty lady just invited me out to lunch,’ said Frank. ‘Come alone, said the lady.’

‘Excellent. Who?’

‘Kelly Peters.’

‘I thought she was…’

‘She wants to mother me, you dolt. Anyone willing to pay Luger prices can mother me all they want. Do some work.’

‘Yes, boss.’

Frank took a cab to Luger’s and found a quiet spot. He gave a rough description of Kelly to the guy on the door, found out that she had already given out a description of him and was shown to her table.

After the preliminaries, he ordered a beer and a burger and fries, Kelly the same.

‘So, what’s up?’ he asked. ‘I’m too old, you’re too young, my wife just died and you’re in love with Milt. I’m not here because you have suddenly fallen hopelessly in love with me, am I?’

Kelly blushed. Frank liked it. She had never seemed the type to blush.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Worse.’ She said it without humour.

‘What’s worse than a beautiful Deputy ME falling in love with you?’ He put his hand across his heart and feigned injury. ‘Oh, the tragedy. Oh, the pain.’

She leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. ‘I think I may have found something in James Cowdell’s apartment that…’

She stopped as their beers came.

Frank quit with the jokes. ‘That what?’

‘That doesn’t quite add up.’

‘Tell me,’ said Frank.

He began to feel knotted up inside.

Kelly looked at him as if she was about to pronounce a death sentence.

‘What, Kelly? What?’

‘Your wife’s…Mary’s…’

Ah, thought Frank, that was it. She was afraid to open wounds.

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘Just say it.’

Kelly took a large drink of the beer. Frank lit a cigarette as he waited for her.

‘Mary’s skin had frostbite,’ she said quickly.

‘Okay,’ said Frank as neutrally as he could. ‘She was kept in a freezer.’

Now he felt sick. Now he felt like his head was full and ready to explode.

‘James Cowdell didn’t have a freezer. She was found in a cupboard, hidden in a bag, tied up at the top. Her skin had freezer burn.’

‘Freezer burn?’

Kelly nodded and started to explain. ‘When meat…I’m sorry…’

‘It’s fine,’ reassured Frank. ‘Go ahead.’

Kelly forced herself into professional mode. ‘Freezer
burn occurs when frozen food has been damaged by dehydration and oxidation. O
ver time, the water molecules in the meat make their way to the surface.  Some of these water molecules become ice crystals.  This causes the meat to dry out. It shrivels, looks completely different to the rest of the meat.’

‘And you found this on Mary?’

‘And on Charlene Aston’s finger.’

‘And this leads you to conclude what?’

Frank knew the answer. Frank dreaded the answer. He wanted to tell her to stop and just leave, to pretend that this conversation had been no more than a bad dream.

‘They were put there.’

‘And?’

‘And there’s only one person who could have done that. There’s only one person who shot James and made sure he couldn’t argue with what had been found.’

‘Steve? Jesus!’ Frank ran his hand over his head, over his soft regrowth of hair, down along his scar. ‘I don’t believe it,’ he said. ‘That’s ridiculous. Someone else could have put it there.’

‘Come on, Frank,’ said Kelly through clenched teeth. ‘You think I can’t tell how long a something’s been out of a freezer? Who else had access to James’ apartment? He had no girlfriend. He wasn’t living with anybody else. The apartment was the tidiest apartment I ever saw. There is no way this kid had…that in his cupboard for any amount of time. Ever.’

Frank brought his fist down on the table. The place went quiet and all eyes turned towards them, then the hubbub slowly returned. ‘Why then? Tell me why?’

‘You, Frank. You.’

Frank’s face creased in disbelief. ‘What?’

‘You were in hospital when Charlene Astle was killed. That was an alibi for you. You had doubts about your own guilt, Frank, Milt told me that. What better way for someone to prove your innocence than to have the Token Killer to strike while you were in hospital?’

‘And Mary?’

‘He screwed up with the first one. The purse? The purse in the drain? Not there one moment, there the next? Our crew don’t miss things like that. We’re too good. He went back and put the purse in the drain and then claimed to have found and make up that bullshit about rats or traffic or Christ knows what else moving it.’

‘And Mary?’ repeated Frank.

‘He had to kill again to make it more convincing. On top of this, he didn’t want you to retire. He’s crazy about you, Frank. You know his own Dad died when he was eight? If Mary was out of the way, he thought you’d put off your retirement.’

‘That’s just crazy talk, Kelly.’

‘Is it? Has he asked you much about your retirement recently? Maybe asked if you’d thought about postponing it?’ Frank didn’t answer. ‘Has he?’

‘Yes, dammit. Yes.’

Kelly dipped into her purse and took out a clear plastic bag. Frank could see the steel inside it.

‘I bet you any money you like this is his,’ she said.

Frank felt his breath whistle from him like he’d been punched.

‘There’s a million of those things in New York. It could be anybody’s.’

‘Why don’t we go and see his wife? Ask her?’

He was on the ropes. Frank knew he was on the ropes with no fight left. Kelly had jabbed and jabbed and then come up with the killer blow.

He picked up his hat. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.

As he got up, the burgers arrived.

He threw a twenty down on the table. ‘Give them to them,’ he said, nodding his head at two nervous kids cooing at each other over a table. ‘I’ve lost my appetite.’

‘Frank?’ Val Wayt leaned forward and kissed Frank on the cheek. ‘How are you? Up and about so soon. You must have the constitution of a mountain goat.’

‘No, just the face of one,’ said Frank. ‘This is Kelly Peters, a friend of mine.’ Val looked at her and smiled. ‘Could we come in for a moment, Val?’

‘Of course you can. Would you like some coffee?’

Frank and Kelly walked into the house. It was bright and airy and spoke of young people at the beginning of their journey, with fashionable, deeply coloured vases and almost psychedelic pictures on the wall.

‘No thanks,’ said Frank. ‘We’ve just had lunch.’

Val led them into the living room. ‘Sit down.’

They sat on a white sofa that sat upon a white shag rug. With the white walls, it was like stepping into Heaven.