Читать книгу The Perfect Woman - James Andrus - Страница 11

It was early, too damn early for a meeting, but this was what he wanted. At least he thought this was what he wanted. Shit.

Detective John Stallings sat in front of the lieutenant’s desk with his mouth shut and his eyes on the senior officer in the room. He didn’t like the idea of Tony Mazzetti and a young female homicide detective sitting out of his line of sight, but that’s how it shook out when he walked into Lieutenant Hester’s plush office with a view of a new condo going up across the street. One of the detective sergeants sat next to him. The regular homicide sergeant, a stand-up guy named McAfee, had just retired, and this was a nervous temporary admin sergeant from computer crime. Rita Hester stepped from behind her wide oak desk and sat on it directly in front of Stallings, folded her considerable arms, and leveled a gaze at him.

“This is what you wanted, Stall. You’re on the case. In fact, we’re setting up a task force to find this killer.”

“A task force for a single homicide? Why the fire-power?”

The lieutenant’s eyes flicked over to the sergeant, then back to Stallings. “It may not be so simple.” Her voice steady and calm.

“How so?”

“This is the second victim in a suitcase in thirty-five days.”

“What? I never even heard about the other one.”

The fact that no one in the room said anything told Stallings that someone had fucked up. From behind him, Mazzetti chimed in. “We thought the first one was an overdose. No big deal. You know how it is.”

Stallings didn’t bother turning to face him. “You claimed a body inside a suitcase was an accidental overdose? No, Tony, I don’t have any idea how something like that is. I know that helps the clearance rate, but it sure fucks up everything else.”

The pudgy computer crime sergeant turned and said, “Stall, she was naked with no ID. We honestly thought she had overdosed in a drug house and someone decided to dispose of her in the bag. There was no sign of trauma, and she had Oxycontin in her system. A lot of it.”

“What about Lee Ann Moffit?”

“We’re waiting on the toxicology, but it looks like the exact same thing.”

Stallings started to stand. “Are you fucking kidding me? We gotta get on this before this asshole kills someone else.”

The lieutenant held up her hand. “Not so fast, Stall.”

He eased back down into the chair, waiting to hear that other shoe that always seemed to drop. But after hearing that the same killer had struck twice he doubted she could say anything that would be more fucked up than that.

The lieutenant considered her words, then nodded. Her pretty face hid the fact that on the street she was known as the “Brown Bomber” for her devastating strikes with her baton. “You’re on the case, but this is Mazzetti’s show. You’re gonna look at leads related to the runaway culture and use your contacts there. You will assist Detective Mazzetti on leads as he sees fit. You will not give Mazzetti any shit in front of the other detectives. And you will keep your mouth shut about the how the first homicide was initially handled.”

“You mean how it was fucked up?”

“I mean that if I have to waste time explaining how to act for one more second you can go back to the ‘runaway roundup’ and we’ll somehow manage to carry on without your help.” She stared him down. “Do you understand everything I just said?”

Stallings swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am, I understand.” It was hard to argue with a good cop.

The lieutenant cracked a brief smile. “Good to hear.”

Now that all issues were settled, Stallings leaned forward in his chair to leave, but as he started to stand up the lieutenant placed a hand on his shoulder to have him wait.

Mazzetti hesitated when he saw Stallings was sticking around, but a glare from the lieutenant chased him out the door.

The lieutenant waited a moment as the door clicked closed, then looked down at Stallings. “We need to talk privately for a minute. Just Stall and Rita, not detective and big-black-bitch-who-can-bust-him-back-to-patrol-if-she-needs-to.”

She was still funny. “Sure, Rita, anything you need.”

“The girl you found with the predator yesterday. I know you popped a crack dealer from Houston Street and then sent him on his way with no official action. But just like every other time you kicked someone’s ass, you said or did something that kept it quiet. You’ve never had a serious complaint against you. You get results. That’s what we need on this case—results.”

“So you want me to break the rules?”

“I want you to find this killer. Talk to all your snitches, scare the street dealers, I don’t care. Mazzetti will do most of the investigative work, find where the luggage was bought, see if some pharmacy is missing Oxycontin, find forensic links between victims. But you’re going to be doing your thing too.”

“What about following the book?”

“We will follow the book. But John Stallings is going to be John Stallings no matter what any book says. That’s what I need.”

Stallings wasn’t certain, but it felt like the first time anyone in command had ever told him it was time to kick ass and take names.