PALINDROME (20 page)

This sounds like a load of crap
,
Sampson thought. “Look, Doctor, we need to sit down immediately.
Where are you and how fast can you meet me at the police
headquarters in Hauppauge?”

“I’m afraid that can’t happen today,
Detective. I’m in Pennsylvania. My son’s is in a facility here,” he
admitted sadly. “I won’t be back until tomorrow evening.”

Jesus Christ!
“Look, Doctor, this
woman was probably agitated because she witnessed a double
homicide.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Detective. I had no
idea.” Rosen’s voice was filled with remorse.

You bastard! Play it cool, Peter.
“How
do I reach this guy Sparks?” Sampson couldn’t wait any longer. He
grabbed a handful of fries and crammed them into his mouth. “I’m
still waiting, Doctor.”

“I have his cell phone number.”

“Just a minute.” Sampson grabbed his pen and
tore off a piece of the Checker’s bag. “Go ahead.” He wrote down
the phone number. “I expect you to call me the minute you hit town
tomorrow night. Do you understand?”

“Uh yes, Detective, I understand.”

“I don’t care how late it is.”

“I understand.”

“Fantastic,” Sampson said sarcastically.
“Don’t keep me waiting.”
Shithead!
He disconnected and
dialed Lieutenant Janik.

“Janik.”

“Lieutenant, it’s Peter, I just spoke to the
physician that signed Alexandra Ameleon into East Pines. Something
is going on here. Can you have someone pull background and possible
rap sheets for Dr. Samuel Rosen and an attorney by the name of
Thomas Sparks?”

“I’m writing it down. What’s going on?”

“Rosen’s not even a psychiatrist. He’s a
goddamn orthopedist. He had this woman on psychiatric hold for
extreme agitation and never even asked what was bothering her. I
think this woman witnessed the double homicide and went off the
deep end.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Janik said. “Why didn’t they
kill her also? I mean someone’s pulling the trigger. The Glock
holds thirteen.”

“I’m still putting the puzzle together,
Lieutenant, but I know I’m right. Look, this woman is in trouble.
Can you look for her cell phone number and put it on constant dial.
I have the attorney’s cell phone number. I’m going to try him
now.”

“I’m on it, Peter. Let me know if you need
anything else.”

Sampson grabbed his Big Buford burger and
chewed down a piece of cold meat. He picked up his cell phone and
dialed the attorney. Sparks’ phone rang ten times and then
disconnected.

Thirty-nine: This is the Deal

We
were back in the car. I had changed
into the outfit as Sparks had instructed me to. I was now wearing a
skimpy bikini and a short see-through cover-up. I was wearing high
wedges, which were as high as the sexiest pair of pumps in my
closet. My mission had still not been revealed to me. God only knew
what Sparks had planned for me. I was in desperate shape and had
begun to pray that Ax was close by. In my heart, I felt that he
wasn’t. My brother was fearless, and he would have certainly come
to my rescue by now if he could have.

Sparks’ cell phone began to vibrate again. It
had been going off continually for the past ten minutes. “Aren’t
you going to answer that?”

“Aren’t you going to shut up?”

“I’m beyond being afraid. Tell me what you
want from me.”

“Just sit there and look pretty. You’ll know
soon enough.”

His phone began to vibrate again. “Why don’t
you just shut it off?”

Sparks didn’t reply. He maneuvered the car
into the parking lot across from the Sag Harbor Marina. He found a
spot at the farthest end of the lot and parked the car. He checked
his watch and then pulled out a photograph. “Remember this
face.”

The man in the photograph looked to be about
sixty years old. He had curly, gray hair and a bobbed nose. “Who is
this?”

“His name is Señor Hernitos.”

“So who is he?”

“He’s a guy throwing a party on his pleasure
boat. That’s all you need to know. Take a good look. Make sure you
remember his face.”

“I asked you who he is?”

Sparks stuffed the photo back into his
pocket. “I’m going to escort you over to his ship. Say that you’re
with Angela Devereux, and the guards will allow you onboard.
Remember the name: Angela Devereux.”

I covered my eyes. “Please let me go.”

“You’re irritating me again. So stop with the
useless pleading. You either do what I ask, or I’ll kill you right
here. I told you, I’m not a patient man.” He reached into his
pocket and handed me a capped syringe. It was loaded with a vial of
clear liquid. “Put this in the pocket of your cover-up. You get
Hernitos alone, and you stick him with this. Chuck the needle
afterwards. I’ll be waiting for you when you get off the boat.”

“No, there’s no way. What’s in the
syringe?”

“It’s Viagra, Honey,” he said sarcastically.
“What do you think it is? You just stick him and get off the boat.
You won’t want to be around when it kicks in.”

“It’s poison.”

“Potassium chloride. Just enough to stop his
heart but not enough to show up in an autopsy. It’ll look like he
had a heart attack.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Sparks lowered the windows. “Take a deep
breath. Get your shit together. Do you hear me?”

I nodded, but I wasn’t feeling any better.
Sparks handed me my bottle of water. I couldn’t drink. He was
expecting me to kill a man, a man I had never met. I prayed that Ax
was close by. “I’m not a murderer.”

“
Au contraire
. Want to see the video
again? And please, I don’t want to hear how it was
self-defense.”

“This is completely different. I can’t do
this.”

“You will do it or you’ll die. I guarantee
it.”

“Why aren’t you coming aboard?”

“Because they would never let me aboard.
That’s why I need you. Who do you think Angela Devereux is, a nun?
You’re here because Hernitos requested you. He paid five grand for
Angela’s best girl.”

“I don’t. I can’t.”

“You will. If you don’t want him to mess with
you, inject him before it goes too far. Be resourceful.” Sparks
reached past me and unlocked the door. “Get out!”

Sparks got out as well and began to march me
toward the marina. I could feel his gun barrel pressed against my
back once again.

The ship in front of us was immense. I could
see that a party was in progress as we approached. The deck was
filled with guests, waiters, and crew. The name inscribed on the
yacht read,
Diosa de Oro.

“I’m begging you, please let me go. I can’t
do this.”

Sparks didn’t answer, but I felt the gun
barrel being pushed deeper into my back. He nudged me again, closer
to the ship. We were thirty feet from the gangway. “This is as far
as I go,” Sparks said. “Walk right over to the ship and try not to
look like someone just died. Tell them Angela Devereux sent you.
Like I said, I’ll be waiting for you when you get off.”

I scowled at him. “You know I’ll never make
it off the ship alive.”

“You figured it out. I’d applaud if my hand
wasn’t wrapped around this gun. Now be a good little girl and go
aboard.”

“Why should I?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you where
you stand; you may have a chance to stay alive if you go through
with it.”

There was no way for me to express the level
of disgust I felt for Sparks. I detested him with every ounce of my
being. I wanted to scream and run but knew from having seen him in
action that life meant nothing to him. He would murder me in cold
blood and sleep like a baby afterward. I took a deep breath,
plastered a smile on my face, and walked toward the ship. “I’m with
Angela Devereux,” I said to the guard. “I’m here for Señor
Hernitos.”

Forty: It’s Time for One of You to Die

Sparks
waited for her to go aboard and
then walked back to his car to wait. The parking lot was directly
across the road from the marina, and he could see the ship and the
gangway clearly.

It was mid-afternoon, and the heat was
intense. He slipped off his jacket and placed his gun under it on
the passenger seat. He got out of the car and walked to the trunk
where he had a case of bottled water.

He heard Lexa’s phone ringing when he lifted
the trunk lid, and he took her phone out of the plastic bag. There
was an incoming call. The phone rang several times and then
stopped. It displayed a list of missed calls and phone messages. He
had to scroll the screen three times to see the entire list. Most
of the numbers were repeats. He took the phone and the water back
into the car with him.

Sparks started the engine and put the air
conditioner on full. He loosened his tie and checked the list of
messages again. He took out his own cell phone and checked to see
who had been calling him repeatedly. He had missed several calls
with the same number. They had come from the 631 area code which
was the area code for Suffolk County. A message was waiting. He hit
the voicemail key and listened to the message. He had received a
call from a Suffolk County detective whose name was Peter Sampson.
Sampson was inquiring about the whereabouts of Lexa Ameleon and
instructing Sparks to return his call immediately.

How did he get to me?
It only took a
few seconds for Sparks to connect the dots. He broke out into a
sweat despite the torrent of icy-cold air rushing out of the vents.
“Rosen,” he grumbled. “I’ll kill him.”

He picked up Lexa’s phone and checked her
list of voicemail calls. There were several. The most recent ones
had also come from the 631 area code. The number was not the same
as Sampson’s, but the 630 exchange was identical. He highlighted
the number and listened to the message. The message was from the
Suffolk County Police Department. The caller was instructing her to
contact them immediately and that she was wanted for questioning.
There were two other messages from the same caller. All three
messages were essentially the same.

Sparks placed Lexa’s phone on the passenger
seat and blew out a big sigh. He checked his watch and then
struggled to get comfortable in his seat. “This is going to be
tight.” He checked his watch again. “Wait until I get my hands on
Rosen. You moron!”

He pulled out his wallet. On either side of
the wallet was a New York State drivers license. He pulled out the
two drivers licenses and held them side by side. The photos were
identical, but the names were not. One listed the driver as Thomas
Sparks, and the name on the other drivers license was listed as
Tomaso Chispa. Sparks stared at the two licenses for a moment and
then muttered, “It’s time for one of you to die.”

Forty-one: The Doper’s Lair

What
was Shawn Riley’s role in the
double homicide? Sampson was in his apartment looking around for
just that reason. He was sitting on Riley’s sofa and examining the
items lying on his coffee table: a box of packaged syringes and an
empty prescription bottle for oxycodone. The prescription had been
written by Samuel Rosen and filled at a pharmacy in Great Neck, New
York. Sampson found crumpled aluminum foil in the kitchen waste
pail that was discolored from heat. A quick sniff was all he needed
to identify the residue on the aluminum foil. It was heroin.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed
Janik.

“Keeping busy, Peter?” Janik said as he
chuckled. “I love it when you sink your teeth into something—you’re
like a bulldog. Where are you?”

“I’m at Shawn Riley’s apartment in Water
Mill. He’s a serious user, Lieutenant, heroin and oxy. He’s got a
case of beer in the fridge and a box of unused syringes.”

“Water Mill, huh?
That’s
out in the
boonies.”

“Guess who’s writing his scrips for oxy?”

“Let me guess, Dr. Sam Rosen? He was just
indicted by the IRS and DEA on tax evasion, prescription fraud, and
the sale and illegal distribution of controlled substances.”

“Then why is he in Pennsylvania today?”

“He had no prior convictions and was released
on bail. He’s a wealthy physician; you didn’t think he was going to
wait this out in jail, did you?”

Sampson rephrased. “He’s in Pennsylvania.
He’s out of the state, Lieutenant. I’m sure that’s a violation of
the terms of his bail.”

“Yes, I get that, Peter. I’ll request a
warrant.”

“He’s back in town tomorrow night. He’s
supposed to call me the minute he returns.”

“So we have two fatalities, one of which was
a junkie, a missing woman, and a dirty doctor—I’m glad I just had
my uniform dry-cleaned. There will definitely be a press conference
tonight. You think I should go to the tanning salon?”

“I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Lighten up, Peter; don’t let the job give
you a stroke.”

“Did you get a line on the attorney?”

“There is no one by the name of Thomas Sparks
listed with the New York State Bar Association.”

“Big surprise. He doesn’t answer his phone
either. I called him several times.”

“Just a minute, Peter, I’m going to put you
on hold.”

Sampson slumped in the sofa while he waited
for Janik to come back on the line. The fast food he had eaten for
lunch had given him heartburn. He popped a Tums into his mouth and
crunched it between his back teeth.

“Peter, are you there?”

“Yeah, Lieutenant, anything new?”

“Our missing person just checked her
voicemail, and we were able to triangulate on the signal. She’s at
the marina in Sag Harbor. Well at least her phone is.”

“I’m only fifteen minutes from there.”

“I’ll call the Sag Harbor Police and have
them meet you there.”

“I’m getting goose bumps. See ya.” Sampson
sprung off the sofa and bolted out the door.

Forty-two:
Diosa de
Oro