Stakeout (2013) (4 page)

“I imagine it’s going to be pretty embarrassing,” Morgan said, but he didn’t break stride.

He dragged me out into the booking room.

Richard was waiting.

“Here you go,” Morgan said. “He’s all yours. Just between you and me, I think there’s something wrong with him. Didn’t want to be released.” He shrugged and walked off.

“Get your things,” Richard said. “We’re going home.”

I stared at him. “What the hell happened?”

“I bailed you out.

My mouth fell open. “You put up two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?”

“It’s a bail bond.”

“You got a bail bond?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to put up a quarter of a million cash. That would be pretty stupid.”

“How much is a bond?”

“Ten percent.”

“You put up twenty-five?”

“How you gonna work for me if you’re in jail?”

“You know how many cases I’d have to handle to make twenty-five thousand dollars?”

“Not that many, actually. Oh, you mean your salary. We’re not talking about that. The point is getting you released.”

“How did that become the point?”

Richard frowned. “Let’s get out of here.”

I signed for my valuables, such as they are, put my wallet and watch and an embarrassingly paltry amount of money in my pockets, and followed Richard outside.

We were in a small New Jersey suburb, indistinguishable from any other small New Jersey suburb, bounded only by the invisible lines that separated designations such as Ft. Lee, Teaneck, Englewood, and the like.

“Where’s your car?”

“Surely you jest,” Richard said. “I took a car service.”

“Where’s your car service?”

“They’re on speed dial. I’ll call them in a minute. Right now we need to have a little talk.”

“Uh, oh.”

“Hey, it isn’t every pro bono lawyer posts bail. You could at least listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“Okay, look, we got a problem. You framed yourself for murder. Usually a poor move, but with your track record, not impossible. Complicating things is the testimony of the motel manager.”

“I don’t need a recap, Richard. What’s the bottom line?”

“Twenty-five grand and you’re impatient?”

“Are you going to work the phrase ‘twenty-five grand’ into every conversation?”

“Not when I get it
back
. I get it back when you go to jail or we clear your name. Going to jail could be a long process, what with trials, appeals, and what have you. So clearing your name is the way we want to go. I am somewhat hamstrung at this juncture. There’s not much I can do until the trial, which, as I say, could be a while. Even then, the outcome is in doubt.”

“Excuse me?”

“The motel manager’s an obstinate jerk. I can make him look like an obstinate jerk, but I can’t make him retract his story, and if the jury buys it you’re toast.”

I stared at him. “That’s why you got me out?”

“That’s right. You have to solve the crime.”

8

A
LICE WAS PREDICTABLY SUPPORTIVE
. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I felt like shit. Alice has the ability to support me wholeheartedly while totally undermining my position, leaving me like a cartoon character who’s walked off a cliff and suddenly realizes he’s standing in midair.

“What do you mean, I didn’t do anything wrong? I found a dead body and got arrested.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have done that.”

“Then I did something wrong.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Are you saying I
should
get arrested for murder?”

“Now you’re just being silly.”

That’s why I can’t argue with Alice. Every time I win a point she tells me I’m being silly. Which is unfair. You can be silly and still win a point. I wondered if I should tell her that. I was sure she’d have a comeback.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alice said. “Richard will handle things.”

“Richard
won’t
handle things. Richard got me out of jail because he realized he can’t handle things.”

“No he didn’t.”

“He
told
me so.”

“Yes, but he’s a lawyer. They’ll tell people anything.”

“He’s my lawyer. And he’s very concerned.”

“I don’t think so.”

“He is. That’s why he got me out of jail.”

“Don’t be silly. He’s handling a murder case. He got you out of jail to do his legwork.”

“That’s ridiculous. He could just hire someone.”

“He’d have to pay him.”

“He has to pay me.”

“Twenty bucks an hour. He’s not going to find anyone else that cheap.”

“Oh, give me a break. It cost him twenty-five thousand dollars to get me out.”

“Yes, but he’ll get it back, won’t he?”

“Eventually.”

“Yeah, but he will, and then all he’ll be out is the twenty bucks an hour he paid you. As opposed to someone else who’s gonna cost him a thousand bucks a day.”

“A thousand?”

“Say five hundred. Your eight-hour day’s 160. Still a huge saving.”

“Richard’s not that cheap.”

“Oh, really?”

“Well, maybe he is that cheap, but that’s not why he did it.”

Alice put her hand on my shoulder. Smiled. “Stanley, if it makes you feel better to think that Richard, with twenty years’ experience and what I understand is a rather impressive track record in court, feels that you, an unemployed actor/writer permanently moonlighting as an ambulance chaser, are more qualified to mount a first-degree murder defense, then go ahead and think that.”

“I think it’s only first-degree if you kill a cop.”

“Is that true?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to look it up.”

“Never mind. It’ll be on the Internet.”

And Alice was off to the computer, leaving me even more unsettled than before the conversation had begun.

9

E
ARLY NEXT MORNING
I
DROVE
out to the motel and pulled up in front of the manager’s office.

He wasn’t glad to see me. He kept the counter between us, looked prepared to duck. “Hey, this is not my fault. I’m sorry I saw you, but I saw you. That’s my job. A guy rents a unit, a girl shows up, that’s fine. Another guy shows up, that’s trouble. If you’d busted in the door, I’d have called the cops. It was a relief when he let you in.”

“He didn’t let me in.”

“I don’t want to get into it. Hell, I shouldn’t be talking to you at all.”

“Right. I don’t care about that. That’s your opinion, and you’re welcome to it.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “I am?”

“I’m not here to make trouble, honest. I’m just trying to find out what happened.”

He looked at me as if I told him I knew tomorrow’s lottery numbers. “Uh huh.”

“I’m just wondering. The man in the room. The man they say I killed. How was he registered?”

“How was he registered?”

“Yeah. When he signed the register. Did he use his own name?”

“Why?”

“I’m trying to make sense out of this. It doesn’t make sense to me. If I knew what name he was registered under, it might be a clue.”

“If I had a clue, I would give it to the police. I would not give it to you. No offense.”

“None taken. You gotta live here. You got a job. Just anything you could do to help me out without interfering with your relationship with the police department would be appreciated.”

Appreciated was the wrong word. I knew it the minute it was out of my mouth. I could see him latch onto it.

“Yeah, well if the police knew I was talking to you, that would
not
be appreciated. All you’re going to do is get me into trouble. Get out of here or I’ll tell the cops. Isn’t there some law about harassing a witness? I don’t wanna make trouble for you, but I don’t want you to make trouble for me.”

I didn’t want him calling the cops. I got the hell out of there.

I must say I took his desire not to make trouble for me with a grain of salt. His eyewitness account was enough to get me convicted of murder. I wondered what his idea of making trouble was.

10

“I
HEAR YOU GOT ARRESTED
for murder.”

“That’s right.”

“Did you do it?”

“Fuck you.”

MacAullif leaned back in his desk chair, and cocked his head. The chair squeaked in protest. A big man to begin with, the sergeant had put on a little weight lately.

“I’m not familiar with that plea. Innocent, guilty, even nolo contendere. That I know. But fuck you? That’s a new one on me.”

“You’re in an awfully good mood.”

“Well, you’re in trouble. That’s always entertaining.”

“Usually it pisses you off.”

“Yeah. But it’s in Jersey. Outside my jurisdiction. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Well, actually.…”

“Well, actually.” MacAullif shook his head. “Count on the dickhead to rain on my parade with a ‘well actually.’”

“You must know New Jersey cops.”

“Apparently not as many as you.”

“Do you know Sergeant Fuller of the Major Crimes Unit?”

“No. Why?”

“My arresting officer.”

“God help him. I was your arresting officer once. Look what it got me.”

“Know anyone you could ask?”

“Why?”

“Guy’s all over my case. First I thought he and his partner were playing good-cop, bad-cop, now I think he
is
Bad Cop. I’d like to know if it’s personal, or if he’s just doing a job.”

“Why’d they pick you up?”

“They found me in a motel room with the corpse.”

“Holding the murder weapon?”

“It was under the bed.”

“Have your fingerprints on it?”

“No.”

“You sure of that?”

“I never touched it. I didn’t know it was there.”

“Is it possible you touched a gun under some other circumstances which just happened to turn out to be this one?”

I stared at him. “What kind of a hokey conspiracy theory are you dreaming up?”

He shrugged. “I know the way your mind works. If there’s an improbable, unlikely scenario, you’ll go for it.”

“I have not touched a gun within recent memory.”

“How’s your Alzheimer’s?”

“I would remember a gun. Let’s not get hung up on the murder weapon. That’s just an unfortunate circumstance.”

“Like the corpse. What’s your connection to him?”

“His wife hired me to tail him.”

“Sealing his death warrant. What’s the wife like?”

“Perfectly nice.”

“She got big tits?”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“I know you. You have a permanent midlife crisis. Let a hot babe walk into your office and your brain turns to Jell-O.”

“The wife has nothing to do with this.”

“Schmuck. The wife has everything to do with this. She hired you. She gave you the assignment. She’s the reason you went to Jersey. Any chance she could have killed him?”

“No.”

“I’ll take that for a yes. As far as I’m concerned, the wife is guilty until proven innocent.”

“She couldn’t have done it.”

“Why not?”

“I was watching the motel room. She never went in.”

“Who did?”

“No one.”

“Then he’s still alive. Unless he shot himself. Any chance he did?”

“Not unless he didn’t want the crime scene to seem cluttered so he slid the gun under the bed.”

MacAullif shook his head. “I gotta tell you. If I was a New Jersey cop, you’d look pretty good to me.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Can you prove it?”

“I don’t have to prove I didn’t do it. They have to prove I did.”

“That’s fine in theory.”

“What do you mean in theory?”

“The facts you told me prove you did it. So you do have to prove you didn’t.”

“No, I just have to raise reasonable doubt.”

“Good lord, has it come to that?” He shook his head. “What a sad state of affairs. I assume the ambulance chaser’s in charge of that?”

“Yeah, but he’s not happy.”

“Why not?”

I told him about the motel manager.

“So he’s lying?”

“Or just mistaken.”

“Hell of a mistake.”

“Yeah.”

“Did he call the cops?”

“Why?”

“Someone did. If it was him, it’s good.”

“Why is that?”

“He claims the dead guy opened the door and let you in, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If that’s true, why’d he call the cops?”

“Good point. There’d be no reason.”

“There’s something you can hit him with. Why’d he call the cops if he thought the guy let you in? So how’d this murder take place? According to you, it couldn’t have happened.”

I told him about the connecting door.

“Oh, wonderful. The old adjoining room theory. You know how much credence the cops are going to give that?”

“They’re not.”

“No shit. They got the killer dead to rights. You think they’re going to waste time with something that undermines the theory?”

“Of course not.”

“That’s why you gotta do it.”

“Do what?”

“Check it out.”

“I can’t check it out. The motel manager thinks I’m a killer.”

“It is inconvenient being a murder suspect.”

“But you could check it out.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.”

“Why not? No one thinks
you’re
a killer.”

“Because I don’t do stupid things like that.”

“So he doesn’t know you from Adam. You could walk in, take a look at his ledger.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not? You’re a cop.”

“I got no jurisdiction in Jersey.”

I smiled. “He doesn’t know that.”

11

M
AC
A
ULLIF PARKED DOWN THE BLOCK
not that far from where I’d been pissing in my Gatorade bottle. I figured that was probably a poor thing to point out. I sat in the police car, waited while he went in.

He didn’t come out. I’m sitting there, waiting for something to happen, and nothing did.

I started getting punchy, thinking maybe the guy called the cops. That was stupid. He’s talking to a cop, he’s gonna call the cops? I mean, the motel manager didn’t strike me as someone who’s going to cross-examine MacAullif on his authority, wrestle his badge away from him, accuse him of being from New York.