Dust To Dust (34 page)

"What precinct are you out of, Hess?" "Third."

"Do you know why you were pulled downtown?"

He shrugged." 'Cause I was available to watch this guy."

He didn't seem to have an interest in knowing why someone from

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the downtown station house didn't get the Job. He was just glad for the time to bone u
p on his knowledge of bait and lures for walleye. Liska had insisted on people from outside, fearing that precinct camaraderie among the umiforms could put Ibsen at risk,just as it had compromised Andy Fallon's death scene with the first responding uniform letting Ogden and Rubel into the house. She didn't know that having a lump like Hess at the door might not be just as bad.

"Has Castleton been by?" she asked. "No."

"Anyone else from the department?" "No."

"Anyone besides doctors and nurses goes in that room, I'm to be notified immediately."

"Uh-huh." "Someone goes in that room with him-I don't care who it isget your ass out of that chair and watch through the glass. I could have killed him five times while you were sitting here debatingii9s versus minnows."

Hess pouted a little at that, not liking being told his Job by a woman, certainly not one young enough to be his daughter.

"And see about getting a personality transplant while you're here," Liska muttered under her breath as she walked away.

She rode the elevator down to street level, thinking of Ogden and Rubel, and how far they would go, whether they would be willing to try something here, in the hospital. That seemed too great a risk, but if they'd had something to do with the murder of Eric Curtis, if they'd had something to do with the death of Andy Fallon, if they were willing to do to another human being what had been done to Ken Ibsen, then there were no limits.

I Then again, maybe they didn't want Ibsen dead. He was a more horrifying symbol alive, if what they wanted was to send a message to people not to fuck with them. She wondered why they had waited till now to do it. Why not when the investigation had been hot? Maybe Ibsen didn't worry them so much as did her interest in reopeming the case. After all, no one had given Ibsen much credit to this point.

Great. That meant Ibsen was made an example for her, and she really was the reason he was now lying in a hospital bed.

They had to have been watching Ibsen to catch him in that alley, she

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thought. They were probably watching her. Omniscience seemed a tall order for that pair. But then, they weren't simply a pair, she reminded herself. Springer had corroborated their alibi. Dungen, the gay officers' liaison, had commented to her there was no shortage of anti-gay sentiment in the department. But how many cops would be willing to go so far as assault and murder? Or be wining to look the other way? She wished she didn't have to find out.

She left the elevator, head down, lost in thought, trying to prioritize the things she needed to do. She wanted to call Eric Curtis's last patrol partner. What was his name? Engle. And she had been appointed by Castleton to go to IA to get the scoop on Ibsen's conversations with them. She wanted to call Kovac to update him on Ibsen and get the latest on the search of Neil Fallon's property. He was probably in judge Lundquist's chambers by now.

She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and glanced up, looking for a spot out of the traffic flow to stand. Rubel stood not ten feet down the hall, staring at her, blank-faced, out of uniform. The moment froze for a heartbeat, and she registered that he had something in his hand, then someone banged into her from behind. Rubel moved forward, sliding the mirrored shades in place with one hand and sliding the other into his coat pocket.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Liska blurted, stepping into his path.

11 Flu shot."

:'Ibsen's under guard."

'Why should I care about that? He doesn't have anything to do with me."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said. "It was your partner he had plenty to talk about."

Rubel shrugged." Ogden's clear. I guess IA didn't think the guy had anything worth hearing."

"Somebody thought so. He'll be talking through what teeth he has left for a couple of months."

"Like I told Castleton," Rubel said, "I wouldn't know anything about that. Ogden and Springer and I were playing pool in my basement."

"That ranks right up there with'The dog ate my homework."' "Innocent people don't live their lives having an alibi in miind:'he

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said, glancing over his shoulder back the way he'd come. "If you'll excuse me, Sergeant-"

"Yeah, you and Ogden and your homophobic pals are a regular bunch of choirboys." Liska wished she were tall enough to truly get in his face. As it was, he was looking over the top of her head.

"You know, it's not the Eric Curtises and Andy Fallons who bring shame on the department," she said. "It's no-neck thugs like you guys, thinking you should have free rein to crush out anyone who doesn't fit your narrow ideal of human perfection.You're the ones who ought to be run out of the department. And if I can find one shred of evidence against you, I'll burn your asses like a blowtorch."

"That sounds like a threat, Sergeant."

"Yeah? Call IA," she said, and walked away down the hall Rubel had come from. She felt his eyes on her back until she turned the corner. "Can I help you, miss?"a desk attendant asked.

Liska looked around. There was a small area of chairs with people -waiting and looking miserable. The sign above the desk said LAB.

"Is this where I get my flu shot?"

"No, ma'am. Blood tests.You can get a flu shot in the ER. Go back down the hall the way you came and . . ."

Liska murmured a thank-you, tuned the woman out, and walked away.

I I M S U I N 0 T H E police department!" Neil Fallon ranted, his heavy boots screeching on the hard-packed snow as he paced a line back and forth to Kovac's left. He wore nothing on his head, and the wind howling across the lake had swept his hair into a frantic mess. Wild-eyed, veins bulging in his neck, he looked like a madman.

Kovac lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and exhaled a thin ribbon of smoke that was quickly dispatched.The windchill factor had to be fifteen below. "You do that, Neil," he said. "It's a waste of money you already don't have, but hey, what do I care?"

"False arrest-"

"You're not under arrest." "Harassment-" "We have a warrant.You're basically fiicked here, Neil," he said cahrily The sun shone weak yellow light through a haze of blowing snow.

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The ice fishing houses that dotted the near end of the lake seemed to huddle together for warmth.

Fallon stopped, huffing and puffing, watching through the wide door as cops combed through the stuff in the cluttered workshop.The. house had yielded nothing but proof that there was no woman living on the prermises. ,

"I didn't kin anyone," Fallon said emphatically.

Kovac watched him from the corner of his eye. "Then you got nothing to worry about, Sport. Go have a beer."

Tippen from the SO detectives unit stood to Kovac's right, also smoking, also staring into the cavernous mouth of the shed. The collar of his parka was up around his ears, a snowboarder's red-andwhite-striped stocking cap perched on his head.

"I thought you quit smoking," he said to Kovac. "I did."

"You're in serious denial, Sam."

"Yeah, well ... Anybody tell you you look like something out of Dr. Seuss with that friggin'hat?"

"I do not like green eggs and ham, Sam I Am"'Tippen said, deadpan. "Where's Liska?"

"You've got the hots for her."

"I beg to differ. I was merely inquiring after a colleague." "Begging. Tinks'll like that. She's someplace warmer than here, working another angle."

"Point Barrow, Alaska, is warmer than here." "What angle?" Fallon demanded.

"It doesn't concern you, Neil. She's got other cases." "I didn't kill my father."

"So you've said." Kovac kept his attention on the shed. Elwood was coming out, holding a pair of brown twill coveralls by the shoulders. Fallon's whole body gave a jerk, as if he'd been given an electrical shock. "That's not what you think."

"And what am I gonna think, Neil?" "I can explain that."

"What do you think, Sam?" Elwood asked. "It looks like blood to me."

The coveralls were filthy. Spattered over the filth was what appeared to be dried blood and tissue.

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Kovac turned to Neil Fallon. "Here's what I think, Neil. I think you're under arrest.You have the right to remain silent
......

C A L S P R I N G E R H A D called in sick. Liska pulled into his driveway and stared at his house for a moment before turning off the engine. Cal and the missus lived in one of a multitude of cul-de-sacs in suburban Eden Prairie. The house was what realtors would call "soft contemporary," meaning without style. Anyone coming home to this neighborhood from a night of barhopping would run the risk of walking into a neighbor's house and never knowing the difference until the alarm went off in the morm*ng.

Still and all, it was a nice place, and Liska would have been happy to have something on a par with it. She wondered how Cal afforded it. He made good money at his grade and with the years he'd put in, but not this good. And she knew for a fact he had a daughter at St. Olaf, a pricey private college down the road in Northfield. Maybe Mrs. Cal brought home the big bacon. There was a thought: Cal Springer, kept man.

She went to the front door and rang the bell, then put her finger over the peephole.

."Who's there?" Springer's voice came through the door. He sounded as if the IRS was waiting to drag him away in chains for living above his means.

"Elana from Elite Escorts:'Liska called loudly. "I'm here for your four o'clock spanking, Mr. Springer!"

"Damn it, Liska!" The door swung open and Springer glared at her, then scanned for neighbors. "Could you have a little consideration? I live here."

"Well, duhWhy would I try to embarrass you in front of strangers?" She ducked under Springer's arm and into the foyer, a place of colorless tile, colorless paint, and a colorless wood banister leading up the staircase to the second floor.

"Did you know you shouldn't have a staircase lead right to a door like this?" she asked. "Yourftng shui is thrown all to hen. All your good chi goes right out the door."

"I'm sick," Springer announced.

"That could be why. Lack of chi. They say that rmight have been

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what killed Bruce Lee. I read it in In Style magazine." She gave him the cop once-over from head to toe, taking in the mussed hair, the gray skin, the bags sagging under bloodshot eyes. He looked like hell. "Or that could just be what you get for running with the likes of Rubel and Ogden. Strange company for you, Cal, don't you think?" "My friends are. none of your business."

"They are when I'm pretty sure they beat a man into a coma while you were allegedly playing pool with them."

"They couldn't have done that:' he said, but he wasn't looking at her. "We were at Rubel's."

"Is that what Mrs. Cal is going to tell me when I ask her?" "She's not home."

"She will be eventually!,

Liska tried to get in front of him. Springer kept turning. He was wearing baggy brown dress pants that had seen better days, and an illfitting gray St. Olaf sweatshirt with sleeves shrunk halfway up his forearms. He couldn't even get dressing casually right.

"What's this got to do with you anyway?" he asked irritably.

"I'm Castleton's second on this assault.The vic was supposed to be meeting me. He had something interesting to tell me about the Curtis murder. And you know, now that someone went to all the trouble to shut him up, I'm all the more anxious to find out what it was he had to say.You know how I am with something like this, Cal. I'm like a terrier after a rat. I don't quit till I get it."

Springer made a sound in the back of his throat and put his hand on his stomach. His gaze strayed to the open door of the half-bath that was tucked under the staircase.

"What are you doing, hanging with uniforms, Cal? You're a detective, for god's sake. And you must have-what?-fifteen years on them? No offense, but why would they want to hang with you?"

"Look, I told you-I'm not feeling well, Liskal" he said, glancing at the bathroom again. "Could we have this conversation some other time?"

"After I drove way the hell out here?" she said, offended. "You're some host. Nice house, though."

She wandered to the edge of the foyer and looked into a hving room with a stone fireplace and overstuffed couches. A tall Christmas tree was overly decorated with artsy-craftsy ornaments and too much tinsel. "Taxes out here must be a killer, huh?"

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"Why would you care?" Springer asked, exasperated.

"I wouldn't. I couldn't afford a place like this. How do you?"

She looked right at him, catching him unguarded for a second, seeing something bleak in his eyes. It struck her very clearly at that moment that Cal Springer was probably always playing catch-up in one way or another, and probably always falling a little short of expectations.

The sound of the garage door opening caught his attention and he looked a little sicker than he had a moment ago.

"That's my wife. Home from work."

"Yeah? What's she do? Brain surgery? Oh, silly me:'Liska said. "If she was a brain surgeon, she would have done something about your lack of good sense."

"She's a teacher," Springer said, hand worrying his belly.

"Oh, well, that explains the extravagant lifestyle. Those schoolteachers just rake in the dough."

"We do well enough between us," Springer said defensively.

Well enough to be up to his ass in debt, Liska thought. "But a promotion wouldn't hurt, huh? 'Course, after the fuckup on Curtis, that's looking pretty dim. So you think to run for delegate and show the brass maybe you're management material. Right?"

"Calvin? I'm home." The soft, sweet voice came from the kitchen. "I got the Imodium."