Checkmate (Caitlin Calloway Mystery Book 2) (42 page)

“A crack-addicted prostitute who lives on Ho’ Row. Isn’t that a shock,” CC said. “How did her stuff get into Jack’s condo? His son was there bright and early that morning to drop off some mail. Mike Temple swears the place was as pristine as ever.”

“She couldn’t have,” McManus stammered before he continued. “Ms. Devlin was busted outside the Squire on Friday night. She won’t have any money until the third of the month when her disability check comes in, so she couldn’t post bond. Because of the holiday, she wasn’t arraigned until this morning.”

“So you’re telling me Dr. Temple bought a bottle of vodka while he was at work, even though he already had one in his freezer.” CC carefully spelled out everything for McManus’s benefit. “Then he put crushed up painkillers in his vodka, even though it would be easier to just wash the pills down with the vodka. He also had a visit from a working girl who was in jail. Then he strolls down to the beach and passes out in the water. Is that what you think happened? Did you locate his keys?”

“No,” he said. “The keys inside his condo were what you said, car and work. We never found the other set of keys. Why are you so interested in his keys?”

“Because you need a key to lock or unlock the door, and someone locked up that place. Honestly, does any of this sound plausible to you?”

“No.”

“How about this?” CC took a calming breath before continuing. “Jack took his evening stroll, which was his habit. Somewhere along the line we don’t know where or how he had a couple of drinks, unaware the vodka was laced with a little extra something. He was dumped in the water. Drunk and medicated, he drowned. It looks like an accident. His drinking buddy goes back up to his condo and plants the now empty bottle and the lady’s belongings.”

“Why?”

“That I don’t know.”

“If he drank an entire bottle of vodka, his blood alcohol level would be much higher,” Mulligan said astutely. “Add in the Vicodin, and he wouldn’t have been able to walk down the hallway much less to the beach.”

“The only prints on the bottle were his,” McManus tried to argue.

“I have no doubt,” CC said. “The guy who set him and Max up is smart. Cold night on the beach, a person wearing gloves wouldn’t look out of place.”

“Bad luck does seem to follow you around,” Val grimly noted. She jerked her thumb at the doors of the courtroom, alerting everyone that it was time. “I’m sorry to hear about your friend, but the clerk is calling us in.”

CC’s stomach churned. She hated the way things ended. Shark could have had a much different life. The sight of him there in his orange jumpsuit in shackles broke her heart. As kids, they had the same advantages and disadvantages. Her life, after a series of troubles, went one way and his another. She found it strange that as he stood there at the defendant’s table he seemed at peace. The case was announced, and still Shark stood there looking completely serene. “How do you plead?” Judge Dillard asked in a bored tone. Everyone expected the standard “not guilty” everyone offers before allowing the wheels of justice to turn.

“Guilty,” Shark said with a sly smile.

Dillard blinked, clearly surprised. Even the court reporter paused. Dillard flipped through the file and gaped at Shark.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, I did it,” Shark said.

“Because?”

“I didn’t like him.”

“Okay. We can schedule sentencing in—”

“Now works,” Shark said. “Why waste time?”

“Is there a plea bargain in place?” Dillard questioned clearly confused.

“No, Your Honor,” the ADA answered equally befuddled.

“Your Honor.” The weary-looking public defender finally spoke up. “My client, against my advice, has made it clear that he doesn’t wish to waste the court’s time or money.”

“I did it,” Shark repeated. “I heard he was here. I got transferred up here. I made a shank out of my toothbrush. The guards almost found it. They’re very good. This isn’t a reflection on them. I got close to Beaumont, and I stabbed him. Is there anything else you need to know?”

“It’s not even my birthday,” Dillard whispered, apparently astonished by the morning’s events. “The victim?” He turned his attention to the prosecution table.

“Mr. Albert Beaumont was a federal prisoner,” the prosecutor said. “Recently captured by the marshal service for violating his probation in Connecticut.”

“And what was the victim on probation for?”

“Lewd act with a minor,” the ADA explained. “Mr. Beaumont was classified as a level three.”

“I see.” Dillard nodded. “A little jailhouse justice. Mr. Sharkansky, you do know that if I sentence you now, this is it? Based on your record and the nature of the crime, you’re looking at life without the possibility of parole.”

“I know,” Shark responded with a hint of a smile. “It’s okay. I understand that I won’t be getting out.”

“I must say, that in the thirty years I’ve been sitting on this bench, this has never happened before. The court accepts your guilty plea and sentences you to life to be served consecutively with your present jail term.”

“Huh?” Shark turned to his lawyer.

“That means, you start this sentence after you’ve completed the time you are serving for, let’s see, assault and possession with intent to distribute a controlled substance,” Judge Dillard carefully explained.

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” Shark was led out of the courtroom through the side door.

“I don’t believe it,” Val said. “Never saw anyone just say, yeah I did it.”

“Told you.” CC couldn’t help gloating.

“I guess that’s it for me.” Val sighed as they exited the courtroom.

“Wait.” CC couldn’t believe she was trying to keep her there. “What about who helped Beaumont?”

“Aiding and abetting is a big deal,” Val wearily explained. “But as I’ve explained before not listed under the scope of my duties. I just catch them. The agency will assign someone to check into it Detective Calloway, it’s been an adventure.”

“Right,” CC nodded sensing that there was nothing she could say that would change Val’s mind. “I’m guessing next time you’ll just go on vacation.”

“I think I will.”

“Good luck, Deputy.” CC offered her hand. She was pleased when Val reciprocated the offer.
She looks like an abandoned
puppy,
CC couldn’t help noticing. She wondered just what it was Stevie did to the poor woman.

“We need to get to work.” Leigh nudged her.

“We don’t have a case. I should go see Max.”

“That would be a case. I’ll start on the West Coast cases,” Leigh eagerly volunteered. CC was more than happy to give Leigh Brooks’ number. Having another ally might be just the push they needed.

Mulligan said, “I got a call this morning from my friend with the IRS. Your pal Nolan is already being investigated by the Newton Police.”

“Really?”

“A pharmacist in Four Corners tipped off narcotics that he’s been writing far too many prescriptions for oxycodone and other controlled substances.”

“Now we know how he’s maintaining his lifestyle.” CC shook her head with disgust.

“Newton and the IRS are working together. Rumor has it something is going to go down soon.”

“One less headache.” CC was slightly relieved about having Nolan audited. “I’ll see you back at the station.”

“Give Max a hug from me.”

*   *  *

“Dr. Jameson to see Seymour Butts,” Jamie said after buzzing for entrance to the private ward.

“Seymour Butts?” CC laughed. “Good one.”

“I swear the boss came up with that one. I thought you’d like it. Max is much more responsive. That pushy detective hasn’t been up to see him, yet. I think he’s having trouble getting through to Max’s doctors.”

“Jamie, he needs to talk to him,” CC cautioned.

“And he will,” she said as they entered the ward.

“Thank you.”

“No need.”

“I’m serious, honey.” CC paused just outside of Max’s room. “Having Max stowed away is a big help.”

“I trust you,” Jamie said. “If you think Max is in danger, I’ll help any way I can. You’re my brass ring. Following your instincts has saved our lives more than once. If you say someone’s in trouble, I believe you.”

“I hate that all of this is coming back to haunt us. I hope that I’m wrong.”

“I wish for that, too.” Jamie’s words were overly cautious for CC’s liking. “But if you’re convinced it’s Fisher, I think we should at least rule him out before making any rash decisions. Go have a chat with Max. I’m sure Shirley could use a break.”

CC flashed her badge to the cop who was sitting outside of the room looking completely bored. She didn’t recognize him; the only thing she noted was that he was a Saugus cop. Palmucci might have had problems getting up to talk to Max, but Jamie had made good on getting an armed guard for his room.

“Hey, knucklehead,” she teased Max after giving Shirley a big hug. “Just what kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?”

“Wish I knew.” He shrugged and rubbed his forehead.

“Shirley, Jamie wants to take you downstairs for lunch,” CC said. “I’ll keep an eye on this Jack wagon.” Once Shirley had made her departure, CC’s smile faded. “Seriously, what happened?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Max rubbed his head again. His pale complexion and agonized expression spoke volumes. “I went to look at a boat. The price was good. Too good to ignore. I figured if it lived up to the hype, Shirley and I could sail it down to Florida. Kind of a second honeymoon.”

“Even though you don’t know how to sail,” she couldn’t refrain from pointing out. “Did you ever talk to the seller on the phone?”

“No, just a couple of messages on my Facebook account.” Max’s voice was strained. He seemed to be struggling. “A guy lost his job and had to sell his boat because he really needed the money. I figure what the hell I’ll take a look.”

“Did Bunny Trails give you any information about who he really was?”

“No the name cracked me up, but people are always coming up with silly shit online.”

“Another reason to stay away from it.”

“I guess he knew I was looking for a boat because I’ve talked about it a lot on my wall.”

“Okay, so you set up a meet, then what?”

“It was late,” Max said slowly, still struggling. “By the time I got to the Ballard, it was dark. The place looked abandoned. I got out of my car and checked the time. Next thing I know, headlights are shining in my face. The only thing I remember after that is a searing pain and hitting the deck. That’s all she wrote until I woke up here and my name was Seymour Butts. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Thank Jamie.” CC chuckled. “The good news is Dr. Zuckerman says that your thick skull is just fine.”

“Thank you,” he grunted. “Always a smart ass. What is it?” He asked noticing the pensive look on her face.

“The bad news is there were drugs in your pocket and your gun is missing.” She reluctantly answered.

“They got my gun? What do you mean drugs?”

“Palmucci from Saugus is investigating.”

“Palmucci? Great, someone is trying to make me look dirty and I have that slimeball on my case.”

“Relax. You need to stay calm so we can get back to work.”

“Drugs,” Max growled not heeding her advice. “I see those wheels spinning. What are you thinking? Other than I’m beyond screwed.”

“Drugs planted to disgrace you.” CC tried to formulate her thoughts. “Dr. Temple was drunk and had painkillers in his system. Add a hooker’s belongings were strewn across his condo. If that gets out, it won’t make him look good. Billy Ryan probably would have died from the purity of the drugs he was shooting up, but someone added drain cleaner, making certain it hurt. Seems like someone is going to a lot of trouble to make a point. It has to be Fisher.”

“Come on kid,” Max grumbled. “He’s under lock and key. How could he pull this off?”

*   *  *

Jamie was beyond the point of exhaustion. Working her job and Jack’s after saying goodbye to him that morning was taking a toll on her. The only bright spot on the horizon was the holiday weekend was officially over. Once the board had a chance to get together, they could address the situation and, at the very least, name a new acting head of the emergency room. Then she could go back to her old routine. Of course that would depend on whether or not people would stop dying or being attacked. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Nolan lurking around. Not in the mood to deal with his snotty attitude, she ducked out a side door and made a beeline for her office.

“Grace,” she said to Jack’s secretary. The poor woman’s eyes were still red from the day’s events. Jamie had told the kindly, overly organized woman to take the day off. Grace insisted that she needed to keep busy.

“There are two police officers waiting to see you.”

“I’m a popular girl today.” Jamie slid into her leather chair. “Send the cops in, if you don’t mind.”

“They’re not together. One is that Detective Palmucci, who has been calling nonstop. The other one is a Detective Hiller.” Grace handed Jamie his card.

“From Newton.” Jamie scrunched up her face and flipped the card over. “Send him in first.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Jamie got the distinct impression that Detective Palmucci had worn out his welcome with the entire staff of Boylston General.

“Detective.” Jamie politely greeted the slightly pudgy man. “How can I help you today?”

“Thank you for seeing me.” He smiled brightly. “I was looking for Dr. Temple.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Temple passed away a couple of days ago.” Jamie fought not to get choked up. “I’m kind of filling in until his replacement is named.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He sounded sincere.

“Thank you.”

“I have a warrant.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing drastic,” he said. “In fact, the only reason I have a warrant is to ensure all the legal bases are covered.” His smile returned as he handed her the official-looking document.

Jamie scanned it. “You need patient information?”

“Not treatment. Just if they were treated here, when they were treated, and by whom. The names and addresses are all listed.”