FORGOTTEN (13 page)

“I know it’s a difficult thing to study. What do you think about this case?”

“There’s only a 12 percent chance he killed himself, based on the instrument, which means there’s an 88 percent chance he didn’t.  I’d be shocked if this was actually a suicide, Chief.”

“I really appreciate this, Doc, and I think you’re absolutely correct.”

“It’s been nice to meet you and work with you on this case, Chief. Please give Miss Parker my regards when you see her.”

“I certainly will, and I’ve enjoyed your contributions and respect your expertise.”

“Thanks, and please call me anytime I can be of assistance.”

Pat picked up the phone and shared the results with
Dickie Davis. He also called Maggie to let her know about Dr. Cooper’s results and thanked her again for the valuable suggestion. Pat felt that while the questionnaire wasn’t perfect, it did force detectives to ask the right questions in suspected suicide cases, and it sent up a red flag when something didn’t fit the pattern, such as in the Butelli case

Chapter 31

Friday, February 4 - Day 17

Major Crimes Conference Room - One Police Plaza

Borough of Manhattan, New York

1500 Hours

P
at walked into the conference room at exactly 1500. He looked around the room and saw that Mary McDonald and Bryan Flannery were missing. He waited a few minutes and then Flannery hurried into the room.

“I’m sorry I’m late,
Chief. I just got off the phone with Mary and she’ll be a few minutes late. She says it’ll be about 15 minutes, and she’s made some interesting progress.”

“That’s good to hear. Okay, guys, take 15 and we’ll get started when Mary gets here.”

Angie Wilson spoke up. “The coffee is fresh, and there are sodas in the fridge in the break room.”

Pat walked around the room shaking hands and making small talk. He picked out a Diet Coke and popped the top. He took a big swig. There were seven other people in the room including Karla Adams, Wilbur Stone,
Dickie Davis, Angie Wilson, George McBain, Mike O’Neil and of course, Captain Flannery.  The task force was definitely taking shape.

Mary McDonald rushed into the room. She was dressed in slacks and a white sweater that accented her buxom figure. The male detectives always took notice. The tall redheaded detective was a beautiful woman and a talented, master investigator.

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I’ve developed some important leads, Chief.”

“Don’t worry about it. Being productive is more important than being punctual in this business.”

Mary slipped her briefcase under the podium, taking out some files. She put on some reading glasses and opened the folder.

“I hardly know where to start, so I’ll just jump in the middle. I met with Margaret
Butelli this morning at a coffee shop, after calling her on the safe phone. She is absolutely certain Forrest didn’t have a typewriter. According to our lab, the suicide note was typed on an Olympus electric typewriter. Margaret says Forrest did everything on his computer. She actually remembers him getting rid of the last typewriter years before he left the NYPD. That means the suicide note is probably a fake.”

Pat stood up and spoke. “Well, this might not be the right time, but it’s related. Dr. Edward Cooper from the Secret Service says that based on his evaluation of the survey instruments completed by Detective Davis, there’s an 88 percent chance Forrest
Butelli didn’t commit suicide. If he had known the note was a fake, I’m sure it would have been higher than that. It’s pretty clear to me this was a murder, and we’re conducting a cold case homicide investigation.”

Mary nodded her head in agreement.

“There’s more, Chief. She says when she went to the funeral home, the arrangements were already completed, and Forrest had already been cremated. She never saw his body. She also said everything was prepaid, and she didn’t have to sign anything. I got some handwriting exemplars of her signature and have turned them over to the lab. My guess is they’ll be forgeries.”

“Do you think the funeral home was involved in this or do you think they were just taken advantage of by someone?”

“It’s hard to say for sure, but they’ve cooperated fully with the investigation.”

“Great.”

“It gets even more interesting, Chief. I received the reports from upstate regarding Judge Fitzpatrick’s hunting accident. I think I told you guys it was witnessed by someone. That miraculous witness was none other than our dear departed friend, Harry Pittsford.”

“Oh, my God! I doubt that was a mere coincidence. Have you let the Sheriff know they may have a homicide on their hands?”

“Not yet, but I expect they’ll be able to exceptionally clear it, because the likely shooter is dead.”

“That’ll be up to them. Bring them into the loop, and please stress they need to keep this strictly confidential. Publicity at this point would compromise our investigation.”

“Yes sir, Chief. I’ll make sure they know.”

“You’ve uncovered a lot in a short time, Mary. Do you have anything else?”

“Not at the moment. I’ve been rushing around all day. I may think of other details before our meeting is over.”

“Thanks. You’re doing a fantastic job!”

“I appreciate it, Chief.”

“What’s next, Bryan?”

“Mike O’Neil has been hanging with the tech guys across the street from the Butelli’s house. Can you fill us in, Mike?”

“Sure. The house in question was foreclosed and is owned by the bank. It’s empty except for a table with a laptop computer and a camera fixed on Margaret
Butelli’s house. It has a high-speed air-card and is transmitting streaming video through the internet. We were very careful, because the tech crew wanted to make sure the house wasn’t bugged as well. I’m happy to say it was clean. They’re trying to duplicate the image the camera is seeing and then have it stream the false image while they’re taking a look inside the computer. It may be impossible, but the goal is to find out where the streaming video is being sent. We have to do it pretty quickly, because the search warrant will eventually expire. They hope it’ll be completed tonight.”

“This case just keeps getting more complicated. Please let me know when it’ll be safe to call Margaret
Butelli on the bugged line.”

“Yes sir, Chief. I will.” Mike said.

“What else do we have, Bryan?”

“I’m not sure. Sergeant
McBain?”

“Not a lot, I’m afraid. We have the documents section working on
Butelli’s money order stub, and there were no prints of any kind on the suicide note. We’ll look for DNA on it and also from the funeral home paperwork.”

“Thanks, George. Does anyone have any idea what happened to
Butelli’s car?”

No one responded. Pat turned to Mary McDonald. “Would you mind talking to Margaret
Butelli and find out what happened to the car?”

“No sir. I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s probably too late, but I’d like for George and the lab to get a crack at it.”

George
McBain nodded his head in agreement.

“It’s probably too late, but it would be worth a try. Some pretty amazing things can be done these days.” George said.

“Does anyone have anything else?  If not, I’d like to see Captain Flannery and Detective McDonald briefly in my office
.”

Chapter 32

Friday, February 4 - Day 17

Chief of Detectives’ Office - One Police Plaza

Borough of Manhattan, New York

1730 Hours

B
ryan Flannery and Mary McDonald followed Pat into his office. They closed the door as they entered. Both sat down in front of Pat’s big desk. Mary seemed to be taking in all of Pat’s momentos on the wall and the collectibles displayed throughout the office. She spoke admirably. “Chief, you’ve had an incredible career haven’t you?”

“I’ve loved almost every minute of it, Mary.”

“What’s the best assignment you’ve ever had?”

“The one I have now, but being a case-carrying detective is a great gig, especially if you have a good partner and a decent boss. You can put your heads together and look at cases from different angles and it makes a big difference. Our caseloads were less when I was a detective and we could really spend a lot of time sinking our teeth into a case. I know that can be tough today, because we’re so covered up. The floodgates of new cases are always open.”

“I admit you have to stay organized. I use a list and check things off as I do them. I make a new one at the end of every day before I go home.” Mary explained.

“That’s the way to get it done, Mary.”

“I want to ask you a question, Chief. Is it true you turned down the Chief of Department job to stay as our boss in the Detective Bureau?”

“Not for public broadcast, but I knew I’d hate it, and I know how much I love this job. This is where I belong and is where my expertise lies. Yes, I turned the commissioner down, and he gracefully understood.”

Bryan Flannery cleared his throat and looked at his watch.

“Mary, I know you’re single, but I have to get home to the wife and kids. It’s Friday and my night to cook, however, looking at my watch, it’s almost 6 o’clock, so I may let the Colonel cook some chicken.”

“I’m sorry, Captain. I find the Chief’s office not only interesting, but warm and relaxing.”

Pat got to the point. “I’m thinking about reaching out to Roland Brewster to see if he’ll talk to us. I understand he’s retired now. I vaguely know him, and it might help if I went along. I wanted to get your feelings on it.”

Bryan spoke up. “I think it’s a prudent thing to do at some point. I wouldn’t touch it until we get that camera squared away and find out where the video is going. It could be going to Brewster’s PC.”

“I’ve thought about that, and I agree with you about the timing. What do you think, Mary?”

“I’m open to it. What does your gut say, Chief?”

“I could be totally wrong, but I doubt he’s involved. He had a pretty good reputation. I plan to contact my old buddy in the bar association and see what light he can shed.”

“I think it’ll be fine, Chief. Do you see a problem, Captain?” Mary asked.

“If the Chief’s famous gut says we need to do it, then we need to do it. His track record speaks for itself.”

“I appreciate it. We’ll go that route when the timing is right.” Pat concluded.

Mary and Bryan stood up. Pat shook their hands.

“Let’s go home and we can hit it hard on Monday. Good night, guys.” Pat said.

Pat looked at his watch, and it was 1815. He dialed Maggie’s direct number.

“Secret Service, Special Agent in Charge Maggie Parker.”

“I’m standing at attention, Miss Special Agent in Charge.”

“Hi Pat. I was expecting a call from Washington. Whatcha’ doing?”

“I was just winding things down and thought we might grab a bite together if you’re available.”

“I’ll probably be finished soon. We have a POTUS visit coming up, and they’re supposed to lock down the date and verify it tonight so we can get things in the works. Why don’t you go on home, and I’ll surprise you with something?”

“That sounds good, Maggie. I like surprises.” 

Chapter 33

Friday, February 4 - Day 17

Chief of Detectives’ Residence

Borough of Manhattan, New York

2030 Hours

P
at got to his apartment and changed into a T-shirt and sweat pants. He picked up a little and made sure his things looked in place. He put on his favorite Louis Armstrong CD, but left the volume down low where Maggie liked it. He preferred it to sound like Louis was in the room with him singing and playing, but he knew Maggie liked it soft and mellow.

There was a knock at the door and Pat opened it, to see Maggie dressed in a navy blue Secret Service warm-up suit. She had a large brown paper bag in one hand and a garment bag in the other. Pat was excited about the possibilities of her bringing along the garment bag. Maggie sat the brown bag on the counter, took the garment bag and hung it up on the door in Pat’s bedroom. Pat opened the brown bag.

“It looks like you’ve been to the Imperial Garden.”

“Yep. It’s so good and they’re so friendly.”

“I agree, and everything is always fresh and tasty.”

Pat and Maggie sat down at the table and began to dish out lo
mein and sweet and sour chicken. The aromas filled the apartment and made Pat even hungrier. Maggie asked a question.  “So, how’s your case going?”