The White Angel Murder (16 page)

Stanton glanced around the restaurant. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, Chin Ho mumbled something into a mic connected to his collar.

Stanton rose and sprinted for the entrance. A waitress attempted to pass in front of him and he slammed into her, a tray full of drinks and barbeque catapulted into the air before crashing onto the hardwood floors of the restaurant. Someone screamed.

He pushed his way past a couple in the entrance and was outside. He looked left and right and didn’t see anyone. There was a convenience store across the street and he dashed for it when he felt an impact like a truck and saw a flash of white.

When his vision stabilized he saw the blue of the sky and felt the bright sunlight on his face and knew he was on his back. A large officer in shorts and a tank-top was on top of him, trying to twist him around to slap a pair of handcuffs on him.

Stanton curled his arm and grabbed the other man’s elbow. He thrust his hips up, pushing the man off him as he turned his body into the man’s elbow and spun him onto his back. He was now on top and he hugged him tightly and ran his hands along the lower back underneath the tank-top and found the butt of the handgun. He pulled it out and stuck the muzzle into his ribs.

“
Easy,” he said.

The man held up his hands in surrender and Stanton sprinted away. A group of diners were exiting the restaurant and saw the gun and they ducked back inside. Stanton ran for the store. A young man pulled up in a Toyota and he tore the keys out of his hand and hopped inside.

“
Sorry.”

Stanton slammed the door and locked it as the man started yelling and pounding on the windows. He pulled the car out, the tires screeching, and got onto Ocean View Drive and gunned it toward the intersection. He slammed on the brakes and turned right as another car veered away and hit the curb.

It was a straight shot onto the highway and he hit seventy miles per hour through another intersection and blew a stop sign. There were no cars behind him but he heard sirens in the distance. They weren’t prepared for how quickly it had gone. They were wanting to get some sort of confession and the cruisers were probably parked around the block.

The highway was packed and Stanton made his way over into the express lane and then back to the right hand side of the road. He got off on an exit near a gas station and then pulled into a residential neighborhood and parked. He turned the car off and looked out the windows. There was only one person he could think to call.

Mellissa answered on the second ring. She was at home now and the kids were in school. He told her he needed to talk and she agreed that he could come over. He started the car again and pulled away from the curb. A thought crossed his mind: he knew in his gut that the takedown was flawed. For whatever reason, whoever set it up wanted it to fail.

33

Deputy Attorney General Paul Harris sat across from Harlow at the crowded restaurant and ordered a sparkling water. The restaurant, named
Marble
after the owner’s grandmother, was airy and smelled pleasant from the cooking food in the open kitchen. A chest-high glass partition separated the chefs from the crowd and everyone watched as they worked; hurriedly preparing American-Thai fusion dishes loaded with spice and flavor. It had gotten four stars in the
Trib
, even though the year before the restaurant had been reviewed and declared mediocre. But at some point the owner had paid enough lip-service and complimentary food and drinks to the paper’s food critic that it was reviewed once more and given glowing praise.

Harris was thin and bald and Harlow had always been amazed how shiny he got his head to become. There was an art in it and he wondered if he did it purposely.

“
The AG’s on board,” Harris said. “Judge Baylor too. Believe it or not, we just need the warden to sign off.”

Harlow was not surprised. Each entity in the criminal justice system was an independent cell unaware and apathetic to what the others were doing. The local police, the state Department of Justice, the courts, the FBI, the federal Department of Justice, the appellate courts, and the Department of Corrections all had their own interests and their own goals. For them all to align, as they had with Harlow’s request, required an enormous amount of political favors, almost more than Harlow could muster. But as the son of a former senator, he still had a few strings to pull.

“
I just want it done and over with, Paul. No more motions and writs and campaign contributions and all that other bullshit. Just get the damned warden to sign the piece of paper and hand him over.”

“
Patience never was one of your virtues.”

“
Fuck patience. Patience is for people who sit around and watch opportunities fly by them. That ain’t me.”

“
No,” he said, taking a sip of his water, “that certainly isn’t. Let me ask you though; why do you need him out so badly? You got the cream of the crop in Cold Case. Throw every man you got on it and I bet something breaks.”

“
Christ, this is why prosecutors should have to be cops first. Do you know how fucking rare it is to solve a cold case, Paul? Almost impossible. Unless the perp walks in and says ‘Oh hey, sorry about that motherfucker I busted a cap in three years ago’ it’s not getting solved.”

The waitress was skinny and brown and Harlow stared at her legs as Harris ordered. When it was his turn he ordered steak and eggs and a beer and asked when her shift was over. She smiled awkwardly and then asked if they needed anything else and walked away.

“
I don’t think she likes you.”

“
Please,” Harlow said, “that was just playful banter.”

He grinned. “We’ve gotten old, Mike. I remember when I would go to a bar and get drunk and pick someone up, get a blow job on the way to the apartment and then go out again and drink some more. Now I’m lucky if I can keep my eyes open past ten.”

“
It’s all in the mind. If you want to be younger you gotta act younger.”

“
How’s that?”

“
You ever thought of maybe looking elsewhere than in your matrimonial bonds?”

“
Cheat on Lauren? No way. Not my style.”

“
I’m just saying, it’s an option for guys like us. We paid our dues. It’s probably time we got a little interest back.”

“
Yeah, well … I don’t know.”

“
Don’t wait too long my friend. You only got one life.”

He finished his water and nodded. “This girl, Tami Jacobs, you sure this wasn’t revenge or domestic violence or something? Are you absolutely certain it’s a psychopath?”

“
One hundred percent.”

“
Are you willing to risk your career on it? If something goes wrong with this, it’s on your head. The AG, the judge, the feds, everyone will point the finger at you and say that you told them it was necessary to prevent more deaths.”

“
I know, I’ve thought about that. But I need … we need, to catch this monster. He’s not going to stop.”

He shrugged and looked over to the waitress who was bent over picking up a slip of paper that had fallen on the floor. “All right. But if you fuck up, it’s your funeral, not mine.”

34

Harlow ate the rest of his meal and chatted about mundane things. When they were done, he paid and walked out to his black Mercedes MLS and put on his sunglasses before pulling out of the restaurant parking lot.

Farther down the road near the Interstate, he saw a group of thugs harassing a woman that was walking by. One of them jumped in front of her and began to talk as another came up behind her and grabbed her ass. She jumped back and tried to slap him and he took her arm and blew a kiss to her.

Her anger had turned to fear as she realized these men had nothing to lose and she was alone. She attempted to pull away but the man wouldn’t let go. Harlow stopped his car in the middle of the road, the car behind him slamming on his brakes and blaring the horn. Harlow flashed his badge, making sure that as he pulled it out the other car got a good view of his firearm too. He walked over to the men.

“
Let her go, assholes.”

“
Fuck you.”

He flashed his badge. “Let her go.”

The man held on a moment longer before letting go and walking away. The other man had already disappeared into the crowd and melted with the group. Harlow went after the one that had grabbed the woman. He stepped in front of him and the man stared into his eyes.

“
I’m not going to arrest you,” Harlow said. “What I’m going to do is take all the drugs you got on you and I’m going to throw them away. Then I’m going to take that wad of cash I see lumping your pocket and I’m going to keep it. And then I’m going to let you go.”

Fear showed across the man’s face and his eyes were wide. If he were arrested, he would bail out in an hour. If his money and drugs disappeared, he would have to answer to someone. And that someone would not believe that a police officer threw the drugs away and took the cash without arresting him.

“
What’chyu want?”

“
I just spent a hundred thirty bucks on lunch. I want you to pay for it.”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash. He counted out six twenties and handed them over. Harlow kept his hand out and the man saw he didn’t have any tens. He gave over another twenty. Harlow smiled and went back to his car.

The woman had already walked away but would glance back to see what was happening. Harlow saw the line of cars behind him and climbed into his Mercedes and got onto the Interstate. It was too bad she didn’t stick around, he thought. He could’ve given her a ride home and had a date for later tonight. After all, who would turn down someone that just saved them?

He listened to a Talking Heads CD on the way back to the office. When he got there he pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead and looked over his car to make sure there were no fresh scratches or dings, a habit he had developed when he bought his first luxury car, a BMW, two years ago. He remembered his shock when he found that he would park and people would purposely ding his car with their doors.

When he was satisfied there was nothing there he went into the building and up to the fifth floor. Before he even sat down at his desk his phone buzzed.

“
Yeah?”

“
Chief, can I get a few minutes?” Ho said.

“
Chin you’re two doors down. You don’t have to call me. Just come over.”

A few minutes later Ho walked into his office. Harlow motioned for him to sit down. He offered him a bottled water and Ho turned it down. He wasn’t looking him in the eyes and Harlow could tell he was trying to figure out how best to phrase something.

“
I wanted to talk about the bust, Chief.”

“
What about it?”

“
It could be nothing.”

“
If it was nothing you wouldn’t be sitting here. What is it?”

“
Jessica was having a good conversation. Jon didn’t seem like he was nervous at all. And then out of nowhere he started looking around the restaurant and spotted me. Then he took off.”

“
That was my fault. I shouldn’t have stationed you inside. And I should’ve wired her.”

“
Well, maybe. But I think there was something else too. Jessica wrote on her napkin. She threw it away so I didn’t look at it, but now that I think about it I think she tipped him.”

“
That’s a big accusation, you sure about this?”

“
No, not at all. She may have been doodling for all I know. But it’s an odd coincidence if he ran right after she started doodling.”

“
I don’t want to cast doubt on people just yet. Lemme talk to her and see what she says.”

“
You’re the boss. But I think she may have tipped him. Just to be safe, I don’t think we should have her on the task force looking for him.”

“
I’ll take it under advisement.”

Harlow waited until Ho left the office and then he put his feet up on his desk. He tried not to feel moments like this, moments of glee and superiority, but it was difficult not to in this situation. Everything had gone well. He had placed Ho inside and knew Stanton wasn’t stupid enough not to spot him. The plainclothes and cruisers were placed far enough away that he could escape but it wouldn’t be obvious; it would seem like a tactical error. Stanton was almost no good to him caught. But a fugitive from justice? When he was eventually caught, who would believe anything he says?

Outside the office, he saw Tommy supervising maintenance as they drilled plaques near the front lobby and hung large glossy photos of the unit. Chin, Jessica, Nathan, and Philip were all up. Two new detectives, Henry Foringer and Alberto Cabellero, were also up. There was one empty plaque on the end.

“
Tommy, take that empty plaque down.”

“
It’s already drilled. We’ll have another detective here soon and then I can just—”

“
Just do as I say.”

Tommy shrugged. “Your call, I guess.”

35

Melissa answered the door in jeans and a t-shirt torn a few places in the back. Stanton could tell it was done on purpose at the store and it took him back a little. She was plain and adorable when he had been with her. Now, it was something different. Her nails were long and her skin fake tanned. She had new piercings in her ears and her hair had blond highlights.