Fury From Hell (34 page)

Blinking, Jennifer bent her head and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the trunk of the squad car.  She felt naked without her guns but she also felt lighter and freer than she had felt in years.  A spark of hope flared in her mind.  She repeated to herself the little mantra that the High Priestess had shared with her earlier.
With the Goddess, all things are possible.  Maybe, just maybe…

***

Tuesday, November 13
^th
, 6:33 P.M.

Jennifer came up behind Yearwood and Feinster.  They were watching Clift through the two-way glass as the veteran cop interrogated Giordano.  Neither one turned around as their attention was riveted on the scene before them.

Through the surround sound speaker system they heard Giordano’s raspy voice answering Clift’s questions with a disdainful air. “I told five times already, I had nothing to do wit the Rennkler guy’s murder”

“Did you know your mark was Rennkler?”

“Nah.  Again, I told you I wasn’t after Rennkler.  Why would I go after him?  I was after somebody else.  Bully for me I was in the wrong damned place at the wrong time.  They told me my mark was someone that stiffed one of their…
associates
.  That couldn’t be Rennkler.  He don’t travel in our type of circles.”  Giordano gave a shrug before continuing.  “I figured my mark offed one of their main kingpins and this was payback.  Figured the woman was going to get whacked, too, since they like taking out who’s ever around whenever possible but…”  Giordano shrugged and didn’t continue.

“Did they know who Rennkler was?”

“Of course they know who Rennkler was.  You’d have to be an idiot to not know the guy’s worth about fifteen million times whatever they think he was worth.  Why you think I had something to do with Rennkler getting whacked?  That guy’s way outta my league!  Geez, even you pigs should have that much intel.  I’m small beans.”

Yearwood smirked at that.

Clift continued. “It may sound like I’m splitting hairs but bear with me.  Before the con Friday night, did you know the mark was Rennkler?”

Giordano looked up at the ceiling and then back at Clift and squinted in confusion.  “Huh?  My mark wasn’t Rennkler — I keep tellin’ you that.  If you must know, since it seems you won’t stop asking, my mark was the Dandy.”

The three detectives behind the glass all edged closer to the glass almost as one unit.

Jennifer’s jaw dropped.  Feinster swore and the vein in Yearwood’s right temple throbbed.

Leaning back and tipping his chair back so it rested on its two back legs, Clift put one hand across his chest and the other went to rub his eyes all of which hid his own shock masterfully.  With his head still down, Clift asked one more question. “So, if that’s the case, how come you lead Rennkler out of the casino?”

“Nah, I lead the Dandy out of Resorts.  What are you?  Stupid?”

“Do you know what the Dandy looks like?”

“Yeah, he’s the guy I took out to the parking lot.”

Clift gave up and went with another angle. “Can you give me a good reason why the people you would associate with would have any dealings with a man like Stagg Rennkler?”

“They didn’t have
any
dealings with Rennkler.  He’s out of our league.”

After two heartbeats, Giordano finally got it and asked in a shaky voice,“You mean…I picked the wrong guy?”

While he said it in a voice barely above a whisper it was heard loud and clear by everyone on the other side of the two-way glass. Clift only pursed his lips.

Giordano’s grey eyes were no longer hawk-like.  They were wide with shock as the idea filtered through his brain.  After a long time, he began nodding and his eyes glazed over.  “Awww…fuck.  That could make some sense.”

Moving his hand from his eyes, Clift looked over at the handcuffed man and waited.

“Now, I know the Dandy’s a big guy…around Rennkler’s size and build.  He’s flashy, hence the name.  Dandy likes doing things big and the iced out cufflinks on an otherwise no-name jogging suit — it seemed like his style.  That’s why I didn’t question it.  I’ve seen pics of the Rennkler guy before.  He and Dandy?  They could pass for brothers, you know?  Fuck me.”

“Fucking shit!” hissed Yearwood.

Feinster and Holden were too numb to respond.

Clift, to his credit, didn’t move a muscle.  His stillness belied his tension but it didn’t seem to register with Giordano who was still musing and speaking out loud, almost to himself. “I didn’t know if Dandy had a daughter or not but I didn’t care.  I saw the girl, and the rock, and chose that as my way into the con.  It made my job easier to lure in the pretty thing, figuring the guy would come along.  Nabbing Dandy…Rennkler…through her was a piece of cake after that.”

Clift set the chair down on all four legs and nodded his head to Giordano and grilled him for another half-hour during which he extracted the names of the people who had contracted Giordano for the botched job.

“Thank you, Mr. Giordano.  You’ve been most helpful.  This will be remembered when you’re next in court.”  Clift smiled at the two-bit criminal who had just broken the case open for them. He left the room and closed the door quietly.

When he walked into the observation room the other three detectives looked at him solemnly.  No one could find the words to say.  They did their job and were on track to find their killer but it wasn’t what they were expecting at all.

Feinster recovered first.  “Mistaken identity?  Rennkler wasn’t really the target but…a tragic accident?”

Clift pursed his lips and nodded.

Yearwood spoke up and voiced what Jennifer and Betty were wondering all afternoon.  “So, why didn’t Chelsea Rennkler tell us she was hijacked in the parking lot?”

“We’ll have to ask her that, won’t we?  So we know for sure that we’re not caught in a masterful game of misdirection by Mr. Giordano.”

Yearwood looked sternly at Clift, “You don’t believe she’s involved in her father’s murder do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then, why hide it that she was abducted?” asked Holden staring at Clift with confusion.

“Because whoever did the final kill probably figured out Giordano nabbed the wrong guy but it was too late.  They wiped the daughter’s memory, or reduced the impact of the memory.”

“What are you talking about?”  All three of them asked him almost simultaneously.

Clift grinned, “If you guys kept up on recent scientific breakthroughs like I do as I’m doing my online research you’d know about a drug called metyrapone.  It allows the person to overwrite bad memories.  If they gave a walloping dose and told her some cock-and-bull story her brain would make the necessary changes to the actual memory and ‘believe’ their story.  This would, effectively, make the memory of her and her father being hijacked disappear.”

“That’s all conjecture, Sir.” Feinster said.

“Maybe so, but we’ve got a guy in there who really believes that he escorted the Dandy out of the casino early Saturday morning. But we all know that the Dandy is very much alive since the multi precinct sting is still in place and we have him under constant surveillance.  The Dandy was nowhere near Resorts this weekend.  He was in his neighborhood the whole time in Bay Ridge.  Right, Yearwood?”

“Yup, he sure was.”

Clift continued, “Giordano said the daughter and Rennkler were punched with a syringe.  Guess we have to see if Rennkler’s body has any trace unknown elements in his blood.  We have to see if Ms. Rennkler does, also.  Boy that’s gonna be fun trying to get that blood sample.” 

Clift passed a hand over his thinning hair and looked off into a corner while chewing the inside of his cheek vigorously. “Shit!” he said to no one in particular.

“Ditto,” muttered Betty.

Jennifer was the only one who found a bright spot. “So, since we broke the case can’t the Feds come in and finish it off?”

The others looked at her with grins but the mood in the room didn’t lighten.

“Holden, the Feds are already here and working this new angle.  We’re already on the outskirts.”

Clift looked over at the sullen Yearwood who had let lose another expletive.  Holden moved away and wandered over to the two-way glass knowing she should probably be far away from the possessed man.  She stared at Giordano through the two-way glass.  His head was on the metal table as an FBI agent tried to grill him.  Giordano was banging his head against the metal table slowly and wasn’t answering the agent at all.

Clift followed and stood behind Jennifer.  In a low voice he told her what he had been wanting to say for several hours. “No matter what IAD says, I know you didn’t kill anybody — not without good reason.  I’ll stand by you and help you fight this thing.  You’re a damn good cop, and I’d hate to lose you.”

He took a breath and continued, “I know you’re on desk duty, but I’ll turn a blind eye if you want to finish working on the Barnes case.  I know it means a lot to you.  I’ll put Feinster on any legwork that needs to be done, or I’ll do it myself.  All paperwork, bring to me and I’ll process it through one of the other detectives but I’ll keep detailed notes of where it all originated from…
you
.”

Without turning around, Holden nodded and silently left the room.  She needed to be alone.

***

Tuesday, November 13
^th
, 7:13 P.M.

The Fury brooded as it watched the original host in the observation room.  The male the demon inhabited was almost out of control.  He required constant vigilance or else he would go off half-cocked.  Abatu was no longer amused by Yearwood’s aggression, if it ever was.  It took great stores of Abatu’s energy to subdue the man’s natural selfish impulses.  However, it was a relief to not have to push and cajole a host into violence but there were limits to everything.  The Fury knew that it needed sustenance; it was getting quite weak.  Being in the midst of a precinct, the demon knew it would be difficult to find the nourishment it required.

Yearwood looked up and saw Clift speaking to Holden softly…so softly he couldn’t hear what the older cop was saying to the traitorous woman.  Yearwood saw red.  He clenched his fists by his sides and willed himself to stay calm.  From everywhere, and nowhere, Yearwood felt a calmness descend upon him and he was able to get his breathing back under control.  He’d have to speak to Clift later to see what that chat was about.  Whatever it was, it did not bode well for the plans Yearwood had in mind.  Clift looked at Holden with a fierce loyalty that spoke volumes.  He watched as Holden nodded with her back turned to Clift, then watched her poker face carefully as she walked out of the room, without looking back at the older cop.

Yearwood turned suspicious eyes on Clift and the rage edged closer to the boiling point.  Yearwood bet Clift had pledged he’d do everything in his power to help clear her name.  But she was on desk duty for God’s sake!  Didn’t anyone realize what a threat she was to this investigation?  To the precinct?  Yearwood bided his time and waited for an opportunity to speak with Clift…alone.

***

Tuesday, November 13
^th
, 2:25 P.M.

Lady Ariella zipped through Jennifer’s apartment going for Jennifer’s closet first.  She opened the safe and took out the bullets in what Betty called a ‘magazine’ and closed the safe door when she grabbed all of them.  She wiped the dial off with bleach on a paper towel.  She then went in search of the guns and found them right where Betty said they would be — in the bowels of the huge closet.  She picked out the small gun that had Smith and Wesson etched on it.  Bundling the gun and its magazine in a large fluffy Egyptian cotton bath towel, she placed the whole thing in a gym bag she had brought with her.  With a satisfied pat, she put the bag down by the front door and began cleaning the apartment with bleach and other cleansers.

With a soft chamois cloth and a large dollop of Murphy’s Oil Soap Lady Ariella rubbed and buffed the chalk markings of the magic circle off the bedroom floor.  She threw the candle remains in a large garbage bag she’d brought with her and swept up the coarse salt.  The High Priestess did her best to straighten the apartment to make it look as normal as possible.

There was nothing to be done about the broken living room window; the boys in blue would have to come up with their own conclusions about that.  She sighed when she looked at the splinters that were left of the bedroom door.  There was nothing to do about that, either, except buy a new door…but would she have time?  Who would put it on?  Would the building people tell the cops a strange woman they’d never met before had come and fixed the bedroom door?  Of course, the building management would say something!

Lady Ariella shrugged and put the bedroom to rights as best she could.  She replaced the rug and the bed to their original positions as well as the oval mirror.  It went back to its spot on the wall and she made sure to wipe down all the surfaces that any of them may have touched with bleach.  The gloves on her hands were making her skin itch but she ignored the sensation.  She knew that this was important.  If Jennifer had any chance of getting out of this predicament, she had to appear to be relatively normal.  No funny business would help her at this time — especially of the esoteric kind.

Looking around one final time, the High Priestess left the apartment taking all of the stuff she’d brought with her praying to the Goddess that she had done what was best for Jennifer.

***

Tuesday, November 13th, 7:15 P.M.

Yearwood watched Clift with barely concealed disgust.  Only the relatively low lights in the observation room hid his countenance from Feinster.

Feinster had watched Holden leave and wanted to go after her but resisted.  Betty knew Jennifer needed space to digest everything.  With a sigh, she turned back to the two-way glass and watched Giordano still banging his head.

Clift was also looking through the two-way glass but he did not see Giordano at all.  All he saw in his mind’s eye was Yearwood and his hate for Holden.  With no idea how to fix this situation Clift was falling into despair that he wouldn’t be able to get through to Yearwood and make him undo what, he knew in his gut, Yearwood had already done.  Even if it was possible for Yearwood to take back whatever he said to IAD, Clift wondered if the internal cops would halt their investigation.  He blew out a long breath fretting that he already knew the answer to that particular question.