Dead of Knight (9 page)

“Fuck!” Staal squeezed through the opening in the shelf a few steps behind Douglas.

Fraser ran around the shelf and into the next aisle. Staal stood up in the row and saw Douglas streak toward the exit and the freedom of the street. Staal raced after him and in ten strides he had gained on the smaller man until he was only three feet behind. Staal dove, knocking Douglas into a stack of flattened boxes. He held him down, cranked Douglas’s left arm behind his back, pulled out a set of handcuffs and set the manacles around both wrists.

“What the hell you running for, Douglas?” Staal’s eyes bore into him.

“Nothing.”

“You boosted a car last night didn’t you?” Fraser asked.

“No fucking way!”

“We popped Jay-Jay this morning and he rolled on you man.”

“Ah-shit...can I tell it my way?”

“Mathew Douglas, you are under arrest for suspicion of auto theft.” Staal read Douglas his rights as he gripped the cuffs and yanked him to his feet. He marched Douglas through the bookstore, into the mall and out to his car. Once he had his man in the back seat, he paused outside the vehicle to talk to Fraser.

“Get Jim Dell in to look at a lineup?” asked Fraser.

“Yeah, and if he IDs this prick, we can get a warrant to search his place.”

“Better let the Gooch and Hayes know what’s going on.” Fraser opened his door and swung into the passenger side.

Staal shifted into gear and drove the Impala from the mall lot. When Fraser flipped off his phone after talking to Gina Hayes, Staal said, “You get any dirt on this guy when you showed the photo?”

“No. Well, maybe. Apparently, he’s popular with the teenage girls. One threw herself at him, but according to the cashier, he turned and almost ran from her. Seems strange for a straight single guy.” 

“Afraid of women? Stays clear, but then stalks and...”

“Yeah, maybe. Kinda fits the profile.”

Back at West Precinct, Staal walked Douglas up to Watch Sergeant Philip Taylor’s desk.

“Interview Three is open,” Taylor said.

Fraser took Douglas to the interview room, while Staal remained at the desk.

“Phil, we’re gonna need to set up a lineup in about twenty minutes.”

“No problem, Jack. I’ll set up in two, and when you’re ready just walk him over.”

When Staal called Jim Dell, Dell told him he could be there in fifteen minutes or less. He then called down to holding about A.J. Morgan. Sergeant Anderson told Staal he’d bring Morgan up as soon as necessary. Morgan’s identification wouldn’t hold up in court; however it could help sway a judge to sign a search warrant for Douglas’s place.

Staal stepped into Interview Room Three. “All comfy, Matty? Here’s how it’s going to go. You’re gonna stand in this line-up, and if our guy picks you out, you’ll be a collar for auto theft.”

“And if he doesn’t? I’m outta here?”

Douglas
received no answer.

The sixteen square foot room was empty except for a table, several chairs, and a filing cabinet.

“It’s kind of stuffy in here so I’ll turn on the AC, Matt,” Staal said as left the room.

Staff-Sergeant Barnes found Staal and fired curious questions about what they were doing with Mathew Douglas. Staal updated Barnes on how they found the man.

“You’ll call Murdocco and let the team know what you’re up to?” Barnes asked. His tone implied an order and not an inquiry.

“About a car-thief, Sarge?”

“Careful, Jack. I said help the team—not the other way around.” Barnes walked away.

“We’re in luck. Crown Council Darren Clarke is in the precinct,” Rachael Gooch said when she found Staal watching Douglas through the one-way glass of IR-3. “I’ll track him down and bring him over. Line-up’s in Interview Two, right?”

Staal nodded.

“Good. I’ll call Anderson to bring up Morgan.”

Staal made his way to the hallway outside of the interview rooms. Interview Two was twice as large as Three and featured a 6 by 10 foot one-way mirror and sound system. A Venetian blind covered the window. Staal peered through it and saw five men dressed in black sitting in chairs with number cards looped around their necks. Three of the line-up wore bandanas and the rest sported ball caps. Matt Douglas looked down, almost blocking his number three.

Rachael brought Jim Dell to stand next to Staal. A few feet to Gooch’s right stood Crown Counsel Clarke.

“Thanks for coming down so quickly, Mr. Dell. Behind this blind are five men with numbers. They can’t see you, so relax and take your time. If you recognize anyone—let us know how and where from. If you can’t make out anyone, that’s okay, too. Any questions, Mr. Dell?”

Dell shook his head. Staal nodded to Rachael and she pulled the string to lift the blind.

Dell looked each man up and down. If any of the faces were familiar to him, he didn’t let on. Finally, he turned his gaze to Staal, pointed to the window and said, “That’s him, number three.”

“Where do you recognize him from, Mr. Dell?” Gooch asked.

“From my diner, last night. I served—I served the bastard a meal!” Dell turned to the glass and began to yell, “I see you...you little fuck!” He pounded his fist on the window. Gooch lowered the blind quickly and Staal steered Dell from the hallway and walked the shaken man to the waiting area of the squad room. Dell took a seat.

“Thanks again for your help, Mr. Dell. Would you like a coffee or a bottled water?”

Dell said nothing. 

Back in the hall outside the interview rooms, Staal could hear A.J. Morgan.

“What gives? Where’s that Staal dude?”

“I’m here, Morgan. We’ve got a lineup for you to look at.”

The line of men still stood across the room. Anderson had changed Douglas’ number from three to five. Gooch raised the blind once more.

Morgan glanced at the Crown Counsel with mild familiarity and then looked through the window.

“Jesus, that’s one ugly bunch a queers. Can’t help you cops, don’t know any one of ‘em.” Morgan paused. “Shit; number five. Get him to come closer.”

Staal leaned toward the wall and spoke into an intercom. “Number five. Take two steps forward.”

Douglas
stepped closer.

“Holy fuck. It’s the dude from the alley last night.”

“You sure?” asked Gooch.

“Yeah, it’s him. Dude didn’t know I was watchin’ him. Jesus, I thought this was about that CD shop robbery last week. I um, well that’s what that prick Anderson told me.”

A uniform cop took Morgan away when Gooch motioned him to do so.

Darren Clarke, who remained quiet throughout the identification process, now spoke in a professional tone. “Congratulations, Detectives, you have yourselves a great steaming pile of circumstantial evidence. Neither of your wits saw anything that any legal-aid hack couldn’t bury with a dozen examples of mistaken identity. Get me something concrete, a confession, a tasty DNA match...besides, isn’t IHIT handling the Birthday Boy case?”

“Staal and I are more interested in a warrant to search his residence and vehicle,” Gooch cut him off. “We know we’re far from clearing this one, Clarke.” 

“When we have something—we’ll hand it over to the team,” Staal said.

“A warrant? Why didn’t you say so? I’ll give Judge Wanamaker a call and inform him you’ll be stopping by.”

Clarke turned away and disappeared down the hall.

“Fraser is already over at the courthouse, tracking down the judge,” Gooch said. She pulled out her cell phone, dialed Fraser, and told him about the two positive ID’s. A minute later Gooch said to Staal, “Ken says he’ll have a warrant in twenty minutes. Let’s roll for Douglas’s place.”

“Hold on, Rachael. If we fly over there and lay a warrant on Mrs. Douglas, she’ll lawyer up her son in a flash.”

“Shit, you’re right, Jack.” She told Fraser to come back to West Precinct.

“I think you should go at him for the Walker murder,” Staal said. “Go at him hard, get loud, and then I’ll take over and save him from the crazy-bitch cop.”

Rachael smiled. “Let’s do it. You set it up.”

Staal returned to Interview Room Two. Douglas was slumped over the desk. The other bodies from the line up were gone. Staal nodded to Anderson and the uniform cop left the room.

“Good news, Matt.”

Douglas
raised his head.

“You’re clear on the auto theft thing,” Staal said.

“What about Jay?”

“Changed his story—so we don’t believe him.”

“Fuckin’ A! So I’m outta here?”

“No such luck, man. Got another detective who wants a word with you on something else.”

Staal tapped the door to the hallway. Gooch entered the room.

“What the hell? What is this?” asked Douglas. His face was wary as he watched Rachael circle the room. Staal stepped back to the corner and sat down.

Gooch took a seat at the desk in front of Douglas. “Matt, I’m Sergeant Detective Gooch. I need to ask you some questions.”

“What is this about?” 

“I need to know your exact whereabouts from 10 until 12 last night.” Her voice was calm. “And don’t give me any bullshit.”

“Like I, um, told Detective Staal, I was home last night at that time. My Mom can vouch for me. Call her.” Matt looked over to Staal. “Please call her and see.”

“I just called her, Matt. She says she heard your radio going, but didn’t actually see you until this morning, before you left for work.”

“I was. I was there, I swear it.”

“Look, Douglas, we know you were out last night. We’ve got a witness who puts you at Jim’s diner, over on Second Avenue, at 10 last night.”

“No. No way, lady.” He shook his head.

“This guy picked you out of a line-up, says you had a cheeseburger, fries, and a coffee.” Gooch took off her watch, a ring, put the jewelry on the cabinet, and rolled up her sleeves.

“No.” Douglas watched Gooch remove her things. He glanced at Staal again.

“You smoke Marlboro’s, Matt?”

“Yeah, so?”

“A second witness puts you in the lane behind the diner at approximately 10:30.” Gooch’s voice grew louder and more aggressive as she went on. “We found Marlboro light butts in that lane. Your cigarette butts.”

“I don’t get this.” Matt’s eyes were watering.

“That’s where you struck Kimberly Walker in the throat. Put a leather belt around her neck and pulled it so tight she couldn’t breath. Then you raped her. You raped her with a wood-hammer handle, you sick fuck!” Rachael rounded the table and grabbed hold of Douglas’s shirt. She cranked him to his feet and pushed him backward until his spine met the wall.

“You killed her, you piece of shit!” She was right in his face, her spittle spraying his mug. Then she turned him with all her strength, and forced him down hard in his chair. “Tell me why you did it!”

No answer.

She slapped him with the knuckles of her hand. “Tell me why, now!” She held him down with her left arm and raised her right fist as if to strike him. Douglas stared at her, he new he was about to be beaten.

“Step out, Sergeant!” Staal commanded.

“This is my case, Detective,” She turned to sneer at Staal. The look on his partner’s face told him that Gooch was still working the guy. Perhaps she was getting a bit too rough, but she hadn’t lost it.

“Step out and take a breather.”

Gooch let go of her grip on Douglas. He slumped in the chair. She turned and left the room.

“Please excuse my partner, Matt. She gets, well, you’ve seen how she gets.”

“She’s crazy. That bitch is fucked.”

“We’ve got a murdered woman, Matt. Brutally raped. You can see how she might overreact. You want a Coke, a smoke maybe?”

Staal sat down in front of Douglas. He wanted to pick up where Rachael had left off and beat the shit out of the little twerp until he confessed, told the how and why’s and where’s. But, unfortunately, that tactic was decades extinct.

Douglas
pulled his shirt up to his face to dry his tears. His cheeks were red where Rachael had slapped him. “Yeah, a cigarette would be okay.”

Staal got up, opened the second drawer of the cabinet, and reached in for the pack and matches. He lit one for himself and another for Douglas.

Douglas
took the lit cigarette and hesitated. “It’s okay to smoke in here?”

A sign on the door said,
Don’t Even Think about Smoking
. Staal nodded yes.

“So, Matt, the book store’s not a bad place to work?”

“It’s not too bad.” Douglas took a long drag on his smoke.

“Bet you get a lot of tail there, huh?”

“I guess.” Douglas fidgeted in his chair.

“So, you met Kimberly Walker at the bookstore, traced her to the diner? You asked her out and she told you to get lost. That pissed you off. Hey, I’ve been there, I understand.”

Douglas
said nothing.