Judging Time (18 page)

"I didn't steal the car. I told you 1—"

"You stole the car."

"Now wait, that's a cold way of looking at things. I was a little strapped. I needed it for a day. I'll get it back."

"Wally, you listen to me. My wife and best friend are dead. I don't give a damn about the car."

Wally looked scared. "No sir, I didn't have nothing to do with that. I swear." He was nervous. His eyes darted toward the door. "I swear it, man. Nothing to do with that."

Rick's fist hit the table. His knife jumped off the edge and struck the floor, making a loud clatter in the empty room. "You're a liar!"

Wally eyed the knife. "No, man. He sent me home, I swear it. I don't know nothing about it."

"What do you use the cars for?" Rick's fist hit the table again. The tiny Asian woman came out of the kitchen. "How about you order," she said calmly.

"Coffee," Rick said without looking at her.

"Espresso, cappuccino, latte, Turkish? What kind coffee?"

"Regular coffee."

She went back into the kitchen.

Wally shook his head. "You don't look good, man. Maybe you should see a doctor."

"I want you to understand me, Wally. I need to find out what went wrong here. You understand. You're not going to shit me. I'm going to know."

"I told you-"

"No, you didn't tell me."

"I can't tell you nothing about no killing. I don't

know about that. They were fine when I left them." Wally looked at his hands guiltily.

"Then what do you know about?"

"I got two kids. I don't know nothing about nothing." He gave Rick the goofy smile of a dumb person catering to a smart one.

Rick studied the grin for a long time, holding Jefferson's gaze until the Asian woman brought the coffee. Then he got up, dropped a five-dollar bill on the table, and left the restaurant.

Through the window, Jefferson watched him head downtown. When Liberty had passed from his view, he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and called Julio. "You have to get that car back for me. I'm coming out to Queens to get it now," he said and hung up before the Dominican could argue.

19

A
t six-thirty on the morning of Merrill Liberty's funeral, Mike called April at home to offer her a ride into the DA's office in lower Manhattan where they were meeting Dean Kiang at eight.

When she picked up after two rings, she was panting.
"Wei?"

"Wei,
yourself. It's me."

"Oh, Mike. What's up?"

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think?"

"You alone?"

"What do you want, Mike?"

The voice coming at him had started cool and was getting cooler with every exchange. He didn't want to let her know it bothered him. "I thought we might make a formal date, have dinner tonight."

"Oh, I don't know. Let's see how the day goes." She sounded weary now.

"That's pretty evasive."

"Well, I've got a lot to do. I may be busy."

"Still evasive. I get the feeling things aren't going too well with us."

"I don't know where you'd get that idea," she replied, downright frosty.

"You're not talking to me,
querida.
We may be working the same case, but you're out there, flying away from me. I can feel it."

"And that's the right way to go." April finally exploded- into the phone. "Mike, you call me
querida
in front of everybody. I'm not your darling. I've never been your darling. You humiliated me for a whole year at the Two-O, and now you're starting all over again at Midtown North. If you mess me up here, I get dumped out on the street with a big thud. Do you understand what I'm saying here?"

"Hey, what's going on—?"

"This is not a question of face for me. I'm telling you, don't play with me anymore."

"What are you talking about, I never played with you."

"Oh, come on, you know you did. You get off on making everybody think I'm your girlfriend."

"I want you to be my girlfriend. I love you."

"But I'm
not,
Mike. You're creating an illusion of something that isn't true. I'm just trying to do my job here. I don't want to take the heat for something I'm not doing."

"Jesus, April, I love you. Why make everything so complicated?"

"It's only complicated when you don't get it. This game is over."

"Oy, that was cold. I told you I love you. I don't say that a lot."

"It's like being on the take, or drinking on the job. You shouldn't say it at all, Mike. Just drop it."

"Do we have to talk about this on the phone?"

"Yes, I don't want to talk about it on the job."

"April, you're all mixed up about this. Loving you is not like being on the take."

"Well, maybe it is for me. Maybe I don't want you to love me. Maybe it's a complication I just can't afford."

"Fine, I called you on business. I was thinking, we don't need to take two cars all the way downtown. How about I just come by and pick you up, simplify things."

"You can't pick me up because we won't be coming home together, Mike."

"Okay, I got it. Message delivered." Mike hung up and sat looking at the phone. She was driving him nuts. What was with this woman?

Two nights ago Mike's deeply religious mother had asked Mike about his relationship with
la novia china.
He assured her that April Woo was a moral woman, like her, his dearest
rnarnita,
and that his love for April was pure. He thought that would be a pleasing thing for his mother to hear.

Instead Maria Sanchez was troubled by it.
"No amor ardiente?"
This didn't sound like her son.

"This one is different," Mike explained.

"No one is different,
m 'hijo,"
she said, flashing him a sly little smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Even good women have
amor pasionante
these days,
m'hijo.
Even old ones," she added, and she smiled again.

The smile was both shy and daring at the same time and stunned him with its directness. Mike had never seen his mother as modem or daring in the least. Just a few months ago she'd worn only black, claimed she was an old woman of past fifty, finished with life and ready to fly up to heaven to meet the dead husband who was the only man she'd ever known. Now she was wearing rouge and hinting that celibacy was a thing of the past even for women of her ripe age.

"Mamita,
what's happened to you?" he asked, shocked.

Maria Sanchez didn't even blush. Her son was a famous policeman who'd seen the most terrible things and been written up in the newspapers. But he still had a few things to learn, a few things she could teach him.
"Embrazala,"
she suggested.

He frowned. No, it didn't work that way with April. She was too tough. He tried to explain that it was no easy matter to kiss someone carrying a gun, who could shoot you instead of kissing back. But Maria wouldn't hear it. Kissing was the only way, she insisted. It made him sick with worry how he might carry it off.

"And don't wait too long,
m'hijo,"
she warned.

April was already in Dean Kiang's office when Mike got there at two minutes to 8
A.M.
He could see her foot as he came down the hall. The foot, in its new boot, was jiggling up and down. Another thing he'd never seen before. As he got closer, he saw that her right leg was crossed to the left and she was leaning forward to the right, talking animatedly to the DA. The DA's hair had fallen over his forehead and he had a smug look on his face that Mike wanted to punch into his skull.

April was wearing her jade earrings and a new deep green jacket. Her cheeks were pink. With a deep pang, Mike realized that she was excited and happy. Mike had only seen that spark in her a few times, and both times she'd had a few beers and her guard was down. He knew it meant that she was opening up to this guy, was vulnerable, and he tensed to defend her. He could feel the heat of her excitement and his own rage ignite at the same time. Determined to get her back to business where she belonged, he burst into the room smiling a big fake smile.

"Sorry I'm late."

Kiang looked up. "No, Sanchez. In fact you're early. Way too early."

"What's going on?" Still smiling, he glanced at April, but she didn't look at him. Kiang made a noise as he breathed out.

Oh, it was going to be one of those days. Fine. He took Kiang's briefcase from the third chair and let it drop. He looked surprised at the smack it made when it hit the floor, then sat in the chair with his coat on but open, his knees spread apart. He was aware of his gun holstered under his arm, knowing full well that the sense of power it gave him in situations like this was a false one.

"What have you covered so far?" He gave April another searching glance, but she'd shut her face on him.

Kiang ignored the question. "Why don't we start with a status report."

"Fine. After you." Mike bowed to April.

She shook her head at him, warning him with her expression not to be an asshole. He decided he would if he felt like it. So much for maturity.

"We don't have a full death report on either victim, but preliminary findings indicate Merrill Liberty was stabbed at the base of her neck once. One time only," she emphasized.

"We knew that on the scene," Kiang said.

"Now we know it for sure."

"So?"

"Indicates she wasn't expecting it, wasn't afraid. She let the perp get close to her. Could have been a stranger if it was someone who wasn't threatening to her, but it seems more likely that she knew her attacker. The second victim died of a heart attack."

"So that rules out Petersen's wife and anyone else who had it in for him. His death is a natural."

"Not necessarily," April said.

"Oh?" Kiang tapped the pen on his knee, staring at her.

"The ME hypothesizes the heart attack was triggered by shock, or stress. However, the tox results might show something different. . . ." April glanced at Mike and he nodded.

"Any reason for that?" Still staring at her, Kiang dropped the pen and started tapping his foot.

April shifted uneasily under his gaze. Mike knew what she was thinking. The ME's office had discovered poison in the body of the last heart attack victim they had investigated, which turned a routine unnatural death inquiry into a homicide investigation. She put it another way.

"Who would attack a woman standing right next to a companion over six feet tall and built like a linebacker? It doesn't make sense."

Kiang smiled. "That clinches our killer."

"How do you figure that?"

"Liberty was well known to both of them. He came from his home, waited in the dark for them to come out."

"Why go for his wife and not Petersen?" April asked. "Why stab her once and walk away? What kind of guy does that?"

"A cold-blooded killer." Kiang retrieved his pencil and punched the air with it. "Maybe he intended to kill the wife and keep the friend."

"So he jabs his wife with an ice pick in front of his friend and then strolls when the friend has a seizure?"

Mike shook his head. "Odd profile of a violent killer, wouldn't you say?"

"Who said violent? This is a sophisticated guy. He doesn't have to be excessively violent to get his way."

"Give me a break, Kiang."

"So maybe the friend's seizure was planned, and that was why Liberty could kill in front of him and walk away as he died."

"That would make it a conspiracy," April said.

Kiang nodded. "Yes, indeed. Maybe Liberty had something going with Petersen's wife, and they were in it together."

Mike stroked his mustache. "Sounds a little farfetched to me."

"Stranger things have happened, Sanchez. All right, let's get down to business. What do we have on motive? April, how's your shrink doing on Liberty's profile?" Kiang demanded.

"Dr. Frank told me he'd have something for us to look at end of today or tomorrow the latest. He has to type up his notes."

"Did he give you any specifics?"

"No, he didn't tell me anything but what I've just told you."

"Is he going to be helpful?" Kiang asked.

April shrugged. "Jason? Depends what you ask for. "

"What else on Liberty?"

Mike spoke up. "We have extremely conflicting reports, what we might call an unclear picture."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Daphne Petersen is adamant that Liberty's a violent and dangerous guy. She says Liberty flew off the handle all the time for no reason. He was verbally abusive. Did you see her on TV last night? It was in the paper this morning she saw Liberty punch and kick his wife on at least three occasions in the last year. I wouldn't give that too much credence," Mike said.

"Emma Chapman, Merrill's best friend, said he's a pussycat, wouldn't hurt a fly," April added. "Patrice, the restaurant manager, says he's the kindest man in the world. Direct quote, 'He adored her.' "

"Maybe those two are lying."

"I don't know about that. I spoke to her parents on the phone. They said Liberty was a doting husband. They're certain their daughter would not have tolerated an abusive relationship—"

"We've heard that line before."

"Oh, come on, Kiang. The parents wouldn't protect him now if he was a violent type," Mike argued.

Kiang cut him off. "Next item. What else have you got, April? Have you run the route and confirmed Liberty could have done it in the time frame?"

"Not yet."

"Anybody see anybody fleeing from the scene?"

"Not yet."

"Anybody see Liberty leave his apartment or come back?"

"If anyone did, he isn't saying," she murmured.

Kiang's foot stopped tapping. "Someone will," he predicted. "Any way a person can get in and out of the building without being seen?"

"No confirmation on that yet, either."

"Jesus. What have you people been doing with your time? Okay, go try it. Run the route, see how long it takes. See if Liberty could have done it."