When the Night Bird Sings Page 4

  “We’ll call the coroner’s ambulance to pick the dead ones up,” he said.

  “I’ve got the crime team coming,” Nelson said. “They’ll have to wait until they’re done.”

  “You can take that up with them when they get here,” the medic said and moved on toward his ambulance.

  A crowd was gathering in front of the alley. “What’s going on in there?” someone yelled from the crowd.

  “Call for back up, Sid,” Nelson said. “We may need them to get out of here.”

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do in the meantime.” Sid walked to the street, cautioning everyone to stay out of the alley.

  “He’s going to be a good cop,” Nelson said.

  “Yeah, I think so, too,” I said.

  Henry, the whores and the little bowling man were standing beside the backdoor, staring.

  Sergeant Nelson looked their way and said, “You see what happened here?”

  “Those two,” Henry said, pointing at the two dead men, “were trying to kill everybody, but Tommy mowed them down.”

  “Who’s Tommy?” Nelson asked.

  “He’s talking about me, but that’s not exactly what happened,” I said.

  “I see. Well, all of you go back inside but don’t leave, someone will be in to ask you questions,” Nelson said.

  They all started nodding like bobblehead dolls and walked back inside.

  “I’ll have to ask you to stick around, Tommy, I need a statement for the crime team,” Nelson said, grinning.

  “Don’t let that Tommy thing get out,” I said.

  “You and Modele the only ones involved?” he asked.

  “No, Darcie and my client, who was apparently the target, were also here.”

  “Were they hit?”

  “No, I had to get them out of here before some more bad guys showed up.”

  “The crime team boys aren’t going to like that, Mecana. You know better,” he said.

  “It was what I had to do.”

  Nelson told Sid to mark off where Modele fell and around the dead guys.

  Sid nodded and did as he was told.

  My phone rang and I quickly took it out of my pocket, thinking something may have happened to Darcie. It was Emily.

  “Who’s that?” Nelson asked.

  “It’s my daughter Emily. Excuse me a minute.” I walked a few steps and answered the phone. “Emily, you picked a bad time. I can’t talk now. I’ll have to call you later.”

  “Are you going to get my car?” she asked.

  “Yes, we’ll talk about it when I have time.”

  “When will that be?”

  “As soon as I can. I have to go.” I hung up. “Sorry about that,” I told Nelson.

  “It’s okay, got kids myself.”

  I expected my phone to ring again any minute, Morgan always followed her sister’s lead.

  Instead, I heard another siren on the way.

  Chapter 7

  To my surprise I didn’t get a phone call from Morgan, but something much worse.

  Chandler and Blount arrived. They thought they were the old TV team Starsky and Hutch, when in reality they were more like Peter Sellers’ Inspector Clouseau. They had good intentions, but they could screw up a train wreck. You never knew what they would do. Usually it was something off the wall they probably saw in a movie.

  Robert Chandler was a tall, thin white guy with a moustache and pointed chin. He had a wife and four kids. It took him twenty years to make it to a plainclothes detective, and he was barely hanging on to that.

  Kimber Blount, on the other hand, was the smarter of the two and the one that kept Chandler out of trouble. He was younger than Chandler, single, black, with a gym rat body.

  They walked up and looked at the two dead guys. “You do that Mecana?” Chandler asked.

  “I had some help. You two assigned or just happen to answer a call?”

  “I think you better give me your piece,” Blount said and held out his hand, working his fingers back and forth.

  I reluctantly handed him my Glock. “My client was the target. The dead guys were pros,” I said.

  “Both of those guys were shot in the back, Mecana,” Chandler said. “There’s blood running out of holes in their backs. How could they shoot you with their backs to you?”

  “You see the weapons they were carrying, detective?” Nelson said.

  “Nelson, you stay out of this. We’re in charge here,” Blount said.

  “Take me downtown and let me talk to Verves,” I said.

  “You’re in no position to be giving orders, Mecana. You quit, remember,” Blount said. “We’ll decide what to do, not you.”

  “And what’s that?” I said.

  “We wait for the forensic guys to get here and you tell us how all this went down,” Chandler said. “Where’s your client now?”

  “I can’t tell you that,” I said.

  “Then we we’ll have to arrest you for obstructing justice,” Blount said.

  “Then do it.” I was like Brer Rabbit; throw me in the briar patch. Plus, I knew I would get to talk to Verves.

  Chandler took his handcuffs off his belt and motioned for me to turn around. He cuffed me and pulled out his Miranda card.

  “That’s not necessary,” I said. “I know my rights.”

  “You never were very good at following police procedure, Mecana. I am,” he said and continued reading from the Miranda card.

  A police van pulled up to the alley and three men got out wearing white coats over their uniforms and nylon gloves, carrying plastic bags and blood syringes. The crime team had arrived.

  The coroner’s ambulance stopped behind them and two men dressed in blue scrubs got out and wheeled two gurneys with body bags over to the dead men.

  “Hey you, coroner guy,” one of the crime team men yelled. “Wait up. We have to do our job before you move them.”

  “Then do it,” the medic said. “We want to get out of here.”

  Chandler escorted me to the cruiser and sat me down in the back seat. “Stay put,” he said and went back to talk to the crime team. A few minutes later he returned with Blount.

  Chandler motioned the cruiser through the crowd, waved at Sergeant Nelson as he passed and hauled ass for the police station.

  Morgan still hadn’t called. I was getting worried.

  Chapter 8

  Chandler, true to his word, followed procedure to the letter; with everything from taking my mugshot to emptying my pockets. I asked to keep my phone but he wouldn’t let me. They locked me in a holding cell and walked away. Obscenities were written all over the walls, some in blood. I noticed four different colors of paint where the wall touched the concrete floor.

  It was a weekly task to cover the filth with any kind of paint that was available. The inmates would carve their trash with anything that would scratch the surface.

  When Verves showed up I was still reading the wall.

  “Unlock the cell,” Verves said and handed the jailer a paper. The jailer looked at the paper, nodded and complied. “I heard Modele is in bad shape, and you had Darcie and Mrs. Kane leave the crime scene. Not good.”

  “I had to get them out of harm’s way,” I said. “You tell anyone besides Modele what we were doing?”

  “No,” Verves said.

  “It was self-defense,” I said.

  “Did you tell Chandler and Blount you were there to have your client talk to Modele?”

  “I never got the chance.”

  “You’re putting me in a bind, Mecana.”

  “Sorry,” I said, “but this was like a mob hit.”

  “Maybe they were,” Verves said.

  “No IDs, maybe fingerprints will tell us who they were,” I said.

  “I’ll start with that,” Verves said. “I convinced a judge you contacted me and was there to see Modele when the shit hit the fan; and that you acted in self-defense. You’ll have to appear in court later to clear the record but you’re free to go
for now, as long as you promise me you will bring Mrs. Kane in for a talk.”

  “Deal,” I said. “I’d like to get a bio on the Kanes and a copy of the autopsy, if you’ll arrange it.”

  “Don’t have time?” Verves said.

  “I can pick it up,” I said.

  Verves looked at me and sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. You have twenty-four hours to bring in Mrs. Kane.”

  “Thanks,” I said and walked away.

  I stopped by the claims room and picked up my Glock and other items.

  One thing I didn’t see in the room was the box from The Mutilator case.

  I caught a taxi and had him do some double-backs before it felt like we were clear. When we finally headed for the lake house I called Morgan. I explained it would be a while but we would go to Disneyland as soon as I could get the time. She was always inclined to take me at my word whereas Emily wasn’t. I suspected it was her mother’s fault.

  Henry’s refurbished Ford and my truck were sitting in the driveway. I wondered what kind of reaction the rental company was going to have when they saw their car.

  The taxi stopped. I got out and paid him. It was time to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with Miss Candy.

  I called Darcie when I got to the door. “I’m here,” I said.

  Darcie opened the door, Beretta in her hand.

  “Where’s Candy?” I asked.

  “In the kitchen, trying to force down a TV dinner,” she said.

  We walked into the kitchen and Candy was sitting at a long dining table with a glass of wine and a napkin thrown over her microwave meal.

  “Mecana, I can’t eat this slop. Let me order us some food from Frailer.”

  “At two hundred dollars a plate?” I said.

  “Whatever, I’ll pay for it. I’m hungry,” she said.

  “We have to talk first,” I said. “And you’re going to have to talk to the cops again.”

  She stood up, picked up her wine glass and drank what was left.

  “Anything else you should tell us?” I said.

  “I figured if I told you the truth you wouldn’t help me. But I guess I have to.”

  “That would help,” I said.

  She picked up the bottle of wine, poured her glass full and drank half of it before sitting it back on the table.

  “You’ll find out sooner or later. Might as well tell you the whole thing,” she said.

  “We’re listening,” Darcie said.

  “I was a runaway at sixteen.”

  “From where?” Darcie asked.

  “Atlanta, Georgia. My mother was a drug addict and prostitute. I never knew who my father was. I don’t think she did, either. I got tired of fighting off her pimp, so I made my way to Dallas and took up my mother’s profession as a freelancer to survive. She died from an overdose three months later.”

  “You have any more family?” Darcie asked.

  “Not that I know of,” she said.

  “What’s your mother’s married and maiden names?” Darcie said. “I’ll check it out.”

  “Adele Parnell,” she said. “She was never married.

  “A couple years after she died I met Ashton. His chauffer was cruising around one night, looking for a girl for Ashton and he saw me. He asked if I would like to make a thousand dollars. I said yes and that’s how it all started.

  “Ashton was amused by our names together. We had sex in a hotel suite that night. Afterwards, he asked if he could hypnotize me; told me he was a medical hypnotist and would give me another thousand dollars to let him. I thought what the hell and the next thing I knew, I woke up hours later naked in the bedroom.”

  “You don’t remember what you did while you were hypnotized?” Darcie said.

  “No.”

  “What happened after that?” Darcie said.

  “He said he would like for me to stay with him; that he could help me overcome some problems he discovered while I was under hypnosis.”

  “Like what,” I said.

  “While I was under, he said I revealed my mother’s psychotic abuse. He also said he could change my perception of who I was for the better, with more treatments.”

  “Did he?” Darcie said.

  “Yes. He freed my mind through hypnosis to experience insight into my problems and a state of mind to understand how I could change my life.

  “We were married that year. He’s twenty years older than I am.”

  “Did he tell you what you did while hypnotized,” Darcie said.

  “No. He explained he conditioned me to have spontaneous amnesia after each session; thought it best I didn’t know.”

  “You need to tell the cops what you just told us,” I said.

  “No. I’m not sure I should have even told you,” she said.

  “It won’t go any further,” Darcie said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “No one,” Candy said.

  “Anything else you want to tell us?” Darcie said.

  “Nothing I can think of,” she said.

  “That’s an incredible story,” Darcie said.

  “I promised Verves I would bring you in for questioning,” I said. “We’ll get you something to eat on the way.”

  “I thought I didn’t have to go in.”

  “The bowling alley incident changed all that.”

  “What will they do to me?” she said.

  “Darcie’s a lawyer, she can represent you. I don’t think it’s the cops you have to worry about, anyway. I’m beginning to think there’s more to this than money. When you have that kind of firepower involved, it’s something besides revenge.”

  “I wouldn’t know. By the way, Ashton’s body is coming home tomorrow morning,” Candy said. “The funeral will be at Memorial Gardens at 3:30 tomorrow afternoon.”

  “We’ll be there to protect you,” I said. “Who’s coming?”

  “I didn’t invite anyone,” she said.

  “Landon Fritz won’t be there?”

  No,” she said. “He may be the one who’s trying to kill me.”

  “You don’t think it’s Fillmore anymore?”

  “Landon is next in line on Ashton’s will to inherit his fortune. If I’m gone he would get the billons Ashton left.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Darcie said.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “I think you do, you just didn’t want us to know. Why?”

  “I forgot,” she said. “That’s all.”

  “You’re too smart to forget something like that,” I said.

  “I did, that’s the only reason,” she said.

  “Doubt that. We’ll talk again. Let’s go talk to Verves now,” I said.

  When we walked in the homicide department, Officers Chandler and Blount gave us a fixed stare as we made our way to Verves’ glass office. When he saw us, he stood up and we walked in.

  “This is Candy Kane, Chief,” I said. Candy nodded and Verves did the same.

  We sat and I noticed Chandler and Blount were still staring at us. “Chief, you got something for them to do? I feel like we’re in a zoo in this glass office.”

  Verves looked up at them and waved his hand toward the outside door. They gave us a smirk, stood up from their desks and walked out.

  Verves walked around his desk and looked at Candy. “I’m sorry about your husband, Mrs. Kane. We have to ask you some questions, for the record. Darcie, are you her attorney?”

  “Yes,” Darcie said.

  “Mecana, why don’t you get you a cup of coffee and mingle with your old comrades while we do this,” Verves said.

  Thinking of the coffee made me sick, but I nodded and stood up.

  “Okay, ladies, if you will follow me,” Verves said, “we’ll get this over with.”

  Candy and Darcie stood up. Verves picked up a folder and a large manila envelope from his desk. He handed me the envelope and placed the folder under his arm.

  “I think that’s what you wanted, Mecana,” he sa
id.

  Candy and Darcie followed Verves out of his office down the hall to the interrogation room. I sat down to wait and opened the envelope.

  Chapter 9

  The first thing I noticed when I pulled the contents out of the envelope was one of the crime scene pictures of Ashton Kane. It showed him lying on the bed face-down, a sheet pulled over the lower part of his body with his legs and feet sticking out. He was naked when he was killed by four 9mm slugs that could have been from a small hand gun. It was also the preferred choice of pistol for many women.

  Candy was licensed to carry a handgun but she wasn’t there to do it; unless we could prove otherwise. Verves and his bunch couldn’t.

  A 5”x7” picture was clipped to the page; showing Mr. Kane in a white coat with a nametag and a stethoscope around his neck. He was a good-looking man with blue eyes, a full head of combed-back black hair with a touch of gray that gave him a distinguished look. A note on the bottom of the picture listed his height as 6’ 2’’, weight at 200 lbs. and age as 48 years old.

  According to the files, his parents were killed in a plane crash on their way to a business trip in Florida for the bank where they both worked. Luckily for Ashton, he was being taken care of by his aunt so he could play a little league game that day. He was ten years old when it happened, and spent the rest of his childhood in the care of his aunt.

  He was turned down for a full academic scholarship to medical school because he was not active in any extra-curricular activities benefiting the country or community required for the scholarship, even though he was a straight-A student.

  He had been arrested for assault and battery for beating up a kid in college after a hazing attempt and was then considered an undesirable by all the other fraternities he attempted to join.

  He was also arrested three times for soliciting prostitution after the women filed complaints because of his unusual behavior.

  One of the women claimed he hypnotized her to do weird sex things and another one said she was locked in a dark room where he made her watch a video of people having sex for hours and later “tested” her on it. Since no evidence was found, the school only suspended him for a year before he returned to graduate at the top of his class.