ZERO HERO (The Kate Huntington Mystery series) (30 page)

            Skip held out his hand. After the briefest of hesitations, Judith handed over the witness report. He read it, then skimmed through it again. “Wait a minute. This guy works downtown and lives in Pikesville. Towson’s a bit out of his way.”

            Judith took the report back. “Damn! How’d I miss that?”

            “’Cause you had no reason to suspect this guy then,” Dolph said. “You thought you had an open and shut case against Jamieson.” He took the report from her, got out a pad and pen, and jotted down the guy’s work and home addresses and phone numbers. “This guy married?”

            “Yeah, he had to call his wife to tell her he was running even later than expected.”

            Skip drummed his fingers on the table. “Here’s what I don’t get. Why would this forty-something office worker stop to investigate when he sees a guy running away in the dark? I’d think he’d either ignore the whole thing, or stay locked in his safe little car and call the cops.”

            Judith blessed them both with a rare smile. “Gentlemen, I believe you have yourselves a new lead to follow. Pass me the dessert menu, please.”

~~~~~~~~

            Paul Polinski was an adjuster for a small insurance company Skip had never heard of. He and Dolph had gotten past the company’s receptionist by saying they were following up on a police investigation. It was the truth. Could they help it if she assumed that meant they
were
the police?

            Polinski ushered them into his office and closed the door. He was doing a reasonably good job of pretending he was calm, but his palm was sweaty when he shook their hands.

            He moved around his desk to sit behind it. “How can I help you gentlemen?”

            The visitor’s chair squeaked in protest when Skip shifted, trying to get more comfortable. “We’re following up on that murder in Towson, the body you found...” He let the thought dangle to see what Polinski would do with it.

            The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “That was horrible. Just awful. I’d never seen a dead body before. But I couldn’t just leave the guy lying there.”

            Odd phrasing. “How’d you know he was dead?”

            “Well, I checked of course, for a pulse, like they do on TV. Got blood on my hands. Kinda freaked me out.” He twisted his hands together.

            That jived with the witness report Judith had shown them, but there was something going on with this guy. He’d had weeks now to get over being freaked out. Why was he so nervous?

            “The guy who ran away,” Dolph said. “What did he look like?”

            “Look, I already answered all these questions before. Why do I have to go through all that again. I’ve got work to do.”

            “I’m so sorry, sir.” Dolph started to stand up. “Of course, we can meet you at home later.”

            The man put out his hands. “No, no. That’s okay. I, uh... I guess I just... I really don’t like thinking about it. It was pretty scary.”

            No way was this guy brave enough to get out of his car to investigate a possible crime in the dark. But Skip wasn’t ready to confront that yet. “The guy who ran away?” he prompted.

            “Oh, yeah. He was a little taller than average. Thin. Broad shoulders. Lightish hair, some red in it. I didn’t see his eyes.”

            Twice the details that were in the witness report, and way more than he was likely to make out in the dark as the guy ran away from him. His description might have been tainted by the reports of Pete Jamieson’s arrest, and the pictures of him in the paper.

            “So the guy’s running away and you decided to investigate,” Dolph was saying. “What made you think you should do that?”

            “Well, he was acting so suspicious. And I, uh, thought maybe he’d hurt somebody. You know, like raped a girl or something. It didn’t dawn on me that he might’ve killed somebody.”

            Skip nodded as if the man’s actions made perfect sense. “So once the cops came and you gave your statement, then what’d you do?”

            Polinski visibly relaxed. “I went and picked up... uh, some food, you know, to take home so my wife wouldn’t have to cook that late. And then I went home.”

            “Hmm, what kind of food?”

            “Chinese.”

            Skip nodded again. “You remember the name of the restaurant?”

            Polinski shook his head a bit too vigorously.

            Skip leaned forward. “Tell me, Mr. Polinski, what were you doing in that part of Towson when you work down here and live in Pikesville?”

            Polinski reared back in his chair. His eyes went wide.

            When he didn’t answer after a few seconds, Dolph said, “Skip, I really do think we shouldn’t be taking up the man’s time here at work. We’ll stop by your house this evening, sir. Say about seven?” Again, he made as if to stand up.

            “No, no!” Polinski threw his hands out again, then closed them together in supplication. He looked around nervously as if he expected his wife to walk through a wall. “Look, I was coming from my girlfriend’s place, okay?”

            Skip took out a notepad and pen. He clicked the pen. “And this girlfriend’s name is?”

            “Ro..Rochelle.” He squared his shoulders with false bravado. “And I’m not telling you her last name. I don’t want her dragged into this.”

            Skip made a show of writing on the pad. “Rochelle... That spelled with one L or two?”

            The man visibly relaxed. “Uh, two.”

            “Thanks for your time, sir.” Skip stood up. “We just needed to complete the file. You’ve been a big help.”

            Polinski shrank back in his chair and then gathered himself to stand and shake their hands.

            Once outside the building, Dolph snorted. “That dude hasn’t got the nerve to swat a wasp, much less get out of a car in the dark to check out a suspicious situation.”

            Skip nodded. “I think we’ll come back around five and see where Mr. Polinski goes after work.”

            “Shall I call Judith in the meantime and tell her what we got out of him?”

            “By all means. Any time she wants to take back this lousy investigation, it’s all hers.”

~~~~~~~~

            At five-fifteen, Mr. Polinski exited the insurance company’s building and headed for a paid multi-level parking lot a block away. Skip drove into the lot and followed him up to the third level where the man climbed into a pale blue compact car.

            Dolph shook his head. “He even drives a wimpy car.”

            They drove on by as Polinski started his car. Skip circled around and followed the blue compact to the attendant’s booth. Polinski paid, then rolled down the ramp and turned right.

            “Hey mister, you was only in here for six minutes,” the attendant, a kid with long stringy hair, said to Skip.

            “Turned in by mistake.” He handed over a five-dollar bill.

            “I still gotta charge ya the four-dollar minimum.”

            “No problem. Keep the change.” He could see the kid scratching his head in his rearview mirror as he went down the ramp.

            He turned onto the street just in time to see Polinski turning left at the next intersection. Skip caught the light as it went to yellow and quickly turned to follow him.

            “He’s headed further downtown,” Dolph said.

            “And I’ve got a hunch where he’s going,” Skip said.

            Ten minutes later, they passed a group of ladies of the evening on the sidewalk. The blue compact had pulled over to the curb a half block ahead.

            A small figure darted past where Skip was creeping forward in the bumper-to-bumper traffic. Roxie jogged up to Polinski’s car and opened the passenger door. She climbed in.

            “Looks like we’re having another little talk with Miss Roxie tomorrow,” Dolph said.

            Skip’s stomach clenched at the thought.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

            Kate had thought Skip seemed preoccupied all during dinner. This was confirmed when he answered Edie’s question with a distracted, “Sure, Pumkin.”

            “Really, Daddy?” The little girl let out a squeal and started bouncing in her chair.

            Skip’s look of confusion morphed into chagrin. “Uh, oh. What’d I just agree to?”

            “Settle down, Edie,” Kate said firmly. “First step is to look into whether or not owning a pony is feasible for us.”

            Edie’s face fell. “What’s
fizzable
mean?”

            “Whether or not it’s practical. First we need to look at whether we can afford to board a pony somewhere, and is there a place close enough that will take good care of it.”

            Edie’s look turned stubborn.

            Billy’s eyes darted from one parent to the other and then to his sister. “Can I be excused?”

            “Yes, you may, son,” Kate said. Billy made his escape.

            Kate turned back to her daughter. “Young lady, if you’re trying to convince us you’re mature enough to be responsible for a pony, than you need to show us you can take this in steps.”

            Edie was obviously trying to rearrange her expression, but couldn’t seem to figure out what
responsible
should look like.

            Kate suppressed a smile. “I will talk to Miss Linda at Meadowbrook Farms tomorrow, when we go for your lesson.”

            Edie nodded solemnly. “May I be excused, please?”

            “Yes, you may.”

            Edie got up and walked sedately to the stairs and up the first few steps. Then she took off running. They heard her bedroom door slam, followed by a muffled “Yippee!”

            Skip snorted. Kate and Maria burst out laughing.

            “Sorry, darlin’,” Skip said. “That’ll teach me to pay closer attention to their chatter.”

            “It’s okay. She would’ve worn us down soon anyway.”

            Maria stood up. “You want me do baths?”

            “That would be a big help,” Skip said. “I need to tell Kate some things about the case.” Those two words,
the case
, had become family code for anything related to Pete or to Mac’s shooting.

            Maria headed for the stairs. Skip and Kate started clearing the table.

            She told him about her frustrating lunch hour, spent making phone calls. “I finally ended up with the right person at Social Services. She’s checking if Pete’s eligible for housing assistance.” She rinsed a plate and handed it to him to put in the dishwasher. “Did you get anywhere with Judith today?”

            “Yes and no. She’s not able to re-open the police case but we did come up with a new lead.” He filled her in on the interview with Polinski, who turned out to be a customer of Roxie’s. “So the question remains,” he said, as Kate handed him the last of the plates. “What was Polinski doing in Towson that night?”

            “Maybe he does have a girlfriend, I mean besides Roxie.”

            “I doubt you’d say that if you’d met this guy. He’s not exactly a ladies’ man.”

            She let out a soft snort. “You’d be surprised at the number of women who are attracted to the pathetic types.”

            Skip shook his head. He took her hand and headed for the living room sofa. “At this point, not much would surprise me about women and why they do what they do.”

            “Hey! Watch it, bub.”

            Skip sat down and pulled her down next to him. “Seriously, I’m trying to figure out what motivates these gals downtown, the prostitutes. Why would they choose to make a living that way? Are most of them addicts, doing tricks to pay for drugs?”

            Kate shook her head. “First off, they don’t think they have a choice, for a lot of reasons. Secondly, the doing tricks usually comes first. They start using drugs as a way of dealing with the misery of their lives. And then they’re that much more stuck.”

            “What do you mean, they don’t have a choice?”

            “Well, they do, but they don’t realize they do. Most, if not all of them, come from extremely dysfunctional families. Some of them are the children of prostitutes. Almost all were sexually and/or physically abused. Often so badly they ran away as teenagers. Or they got pregnant, and the same father or stepfather whose been messing with them for years calls them a slut and kicks them out of the house.

            “When they run out of whatever money they started with, they’ve got no place to turn. The thing they know how to do best is use their bodies to survive. And their pasts have programmed them to feel helpless, to believe they can’t get away from bad things.”

            “I knew they’re often runaways, but I always figured they started turning tricks because it was better money than waiting tables,” Skip said.

            Kate shrugged. “They may tell themselves that, and indeed it probably is better money, until some pimp gets his hooks into them and starts taking most of what they earn.”

            Skip winced. “Yeah, and we saw firsthand the other day what happens if they go elsewhere and try to freelance.”

            “Another sleaze ball like Frederico informs them they’re his, and reinforces that message with a rape and a beating. And then there’s Stockholm syndrome.”

            Skip dropped his arm around Kate’s shoulders. “I’ve never quite understood how that works.”

            “Me neither really. I mean I know the theory. If you’re dependent on your captor for survival, you bond with him or her, maybe even convince yourself it’s a loving relationship. But I have trouble truly understanding it. I think it’s one of those things you can only relate to if you’ve experienced it.”

            “I’m
not
looking forward to going downtown tomorrow,” Skip said. “I know I should feel sorry for those women, but they’re... kinda hard to be around.”

            Kate snuggled against him. Soon enough the kids’ baths would be done and they’d have to read stories and give out goodnight kisses. Those were normally tasks she enjoyed, but tonight she was exhausted.