Deadly Compromises by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 26
Kelly woke in an hour, but she was still not inclined to imbibe in the revelry of music. Despite pouring herself another drink, which was not her forte, she thought that she needed to clearly think for a while and thought she had an assistant somewhere in the bottle. Her reverie commenced; “What could she be certain of? She would definitely be seeing McKenna again.
Likely next time he’ll be better prepared. Outside of those two relatively safe bets, there were only possibilities, each with their own complicated decision tree. What would be his next approach? If he actually had one, he’d probably have used it today. She was frustrated. She couldn’t plan. If he didn’t yet know his next approach, how could she counter it?” Yet her gut told her that there would be a more choreographed next act.
She regretted having to encounter a fanatical zealot on some sort of mission. Why couldn’t she have gotten the usual perfunctory performer, whose main concern was appearing to do his duty by collecting papers and a check, then going home.
Fucking idiot ought to try getting a life. His own, not hers.
On second thought the pathetic midget was too old for that.
Fuck. She lay down on the couch and closed her eyes, hoping to see a vision in the dark. She fell into a dreamless sleep, holding her pillow and wishing that Bobby was there.
McKenna woke up the next morning only thinking of his hunger, for “justice” and sustenance. He went out, got a huge, greasy fast-food breakfast, brought it back to the motel and shoveled it in. Mostly in was a better description as the lower half of his reddish face also got its share. Unable to break concentration from his mission and mouth he watched local television news, hoping some idea would pop out of the blue. It was a shame that it was still the morning, as programming had not yet commenced airing his favorite show, “Law and Order.”
His hero, McCoy and his strained, righteous, ready-to-explode face was at rest, while the celluloid villains and villainesses performed their nefarious deeds unmolested. A commercial came on which got his attention. The audio said; “Eliminate the possibility of disease. Have sex without contact. Call.....”
He thought the idea had pragmatic merit in an era of AIDS, but the Catholic side of him had qualms he could not define. The thought of sex or near-sex made Kelly annoy him even more than before. This privileged girl did whatever she wanted all her life, while he had to spend so much of his youth on the road working, being away from his now beloved dead wife for weeks on
end. He did his best not to think of Kelly, in that regard, specifically, as that would just keep him thinking about resentments rather than useful tactics. He watched a New Mexico news show. There were two spousal murders in Albuquerque last night, very sloppily done, probably in the throes of passion.
Police already had the suspects in custody and had possession of their guns. To him, this was as things should be; one spouse on their way six feet under and the other facing a long miserable life. No messy complications.
He eventually got a vague idea. He thought that so far Kelly had been rather composed, not feeling very challenged. He didn’t know that she was now on full alert. How cool would she be if he could frighten her somehow? It would take a very believable scare, but what?
About noon he drove to Santa Fe to see the state cops.
When he arrived he saw Detective Daugherty in his office. He knocked gently twice and went in. Daugherty rose from his seat and said, “And you are?”
“I’m William McKenna, insurance investigator on the Simburg case.”
Daugherty really didn’t remember the case precisely as there had been a few others since. He paused a while before
saying; “Oh, yes, yes. The businessman who owed money to the mob.”
Surprised at the response, McKenna gruffly and sarcastically said; “Yeah, I’m just interested in a few more details. Would it be better if I came back at some other time?”
Daugherty forced a tight lipped smile and said; “It probably would be, but the way things are going, I probably won't be any better prepared then. Let me just go get the file.
Have a seat.”
Daugherty left momentarily, while McKenna was more than a bit appalled at the level of attention being given to an open murder case. Daugherty brought back the file, took a seat near McKenna and they read it concurrently. Honestly and in an effort to change the opinion Daugherty surmised McKenna had, he said; “I remember it more now. This is the one with the ceiling bullet holes. This has been forwarded to the Feds. There’s not a lot of sense in investigating around here. Most of the hit men live back East and the Feds handle the cases out of their Organized Crime Division.”
“Didn’t the sighting of Kelly with some stranger bother you?”
Daugherty didn’t know of the event, as it was handled entirely by the local cops. They had not talked to State about it, as it led nowhere. However, Daugherty was embarrassed at not immediately recalling something that, for all he knew, might have been part of the investigation. He replied; “Only a little.” He tried to change the subject back to his strong point and added; “We did confirm with our sources that Simburg was not paying the loans he got from the mob.”
Realizing that he probably was more familiar with the case than Daugherty, McKenna said; “I’d really like to find some avenue I could pursue with Kelly. I’ve already spoken to her about everything I could think of and she handled it, shall I say, professionally.”
“There’s no law against being competent yet.”
“True, true. But if I can come up with some plan, can I count on your cooperation?”
“Probably, it depends on the particulars. We would like to resolve the matter, too.”
McKenna nodded at him, left, drove back to the motel and pondered the situation. The loose ends in the case were Mabel’s sighting of Kelly with an unknown male, her vague remembrance of an out of state car parked next to Kelly’s at the river, the
extraneous bullet holes and Kelly’s weak alibi. He wondered what might have been missed and was inflamed, as it was probably now too late to discover anything new and he would just love to see the look on Kelly’s smart-ass face, if he could get the goods on her.
He again reviewed the facts of the case, frustrated that this was all he had to work with. He was forced to conclude that, given, the mob debts, this was very likely a professional hit. That irked him, because it just seemed too simple and tidy. However, it was very unlikely that he would be able to come up with any more useful information. So he would have to work with what he had currently available. Kelly seemed too controlled and smart to make any mistakes now. As much as he would like to harass her some more, she didn’t have to allow him entry without the company of local police. He could delay payment of the claim, on the guise that he needed more time to conduct a thorough investigation. But, he didn’t really have any investigative plans and he didn’t want to sit in a Castillo motel, twiddling his thumbs, when he could be elsewhere catching other murderers. He could come up with only one hope. He borrowed and twisted a theme he had seen in a 40’s noir movie.
He would have to show that Kelly knew the hit man and he hoped that he was the guy Kelly was spotted walking with at the river.
The extraneous bullet holes and Kelly’s poor alibi led him nowhere.
He got up and drove to the police station. Sheriff Mack was still there.
“Sheriff, I’ve got one more idea I’d like to try.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“When the strange car was reported by Mabel, she said it had yellow plates.”
“So?”
“So I’m told most of the hit men live back East. New Jersey has yellow plates. How about we call Kelly in here and tell her that the probable murderer has been arrested in Jersey and that he implicated her. In fact, he said that she was the murderess. We say that we don’t believe that she did it and if she cooperates, any charges against her will be dropped in exchange for testimony against him.”
“What good would that do you? If Kelly is cleared and the murderer prosecuted, your company is still out the money.”
“Not entirely true. If she signs something saying that she had involvement, which will not be prosecuted, the company will
not have to pay. Besides, this might upset her so much that she could say or do something stupid.”
Sheriff Mack said; “This is probably illegal. Can you do it without my involvement?”
“No, I need you there to display the possibility of immediate arrest. If I do it alone, she knows I can’t arrest her or do anything.”
Sheriff Mack reflected for a few seconds and then said;
“All right. We’ll have the tapes going on this one. It would be great for me if the murderer is caught. My opponent in the next election won’t have any issues to talk about. But, what if she really doesn’t know the hit man?”
“Then we’ll have wasted an hour. If she doesn’t know him, then that’s all she’ll probably say. I’ll make a fake phone call to my supposed source, if necessary and say I made a mistake and that will be the end of that. I’d just love to see her reaction to the thought that her friend turned on her though. Go along with me for this last effort. I’ll go back home and file my report right after.”
Mack said; “It’s a deal. You follow your own plan, ask her whatever you want and I’ll stay as quiet as possible.” He
called Kelly and requested that she come to the police station tomorrow at 10:00AM. She agreed.
Kelly thought about what might happen the following day.
“Somebody’s got to have a new wrinkle on the murder. So, why do they have to talk to me? I guess I’m the wrinkle by way of little head McKenna. Maybe they’ll insist that I’m involved, but what could be new to say. I can just politely repeat myself. Let’s hope this is the end.” She didn’t drink or smoke the rest of the day, wanting to be as clear headed as possible for the ‘final showdown.’” She felt alone. There was no possible help available. It was too complicated to involve George. He could only be a distraction. She called out Bobby and imagined that she heard him say, “Kelly, you can do anything. I wish I could be there. I love you.” She was sorry that she had ever married Alan and immediately realized that if she hadn’t, she never would have met Bobby. So, seeking security led her to love with horrendous complications. The whole thing was just too weird to think about now. She decided to listen to her favorite artist, Patti Smith, only today at her most defiant. She started with “Gloria” and danced the rest of the day until exhausted. She either collapsed or slept.