Ed.”
We were back at the car when I turned to Joe.
“He came in without knocking or identifying himself, gun drawn,” I said. “Seemed surprised and bothered to find the mother there. Once Ed showed up, Padgett told Alberta to leave them alone in the room. Ed told her not to.”
Joe was silent.
“They came to kill him,” I said. “Padgett didn’t expect Ed’s mother to be there. She threw him. Her presence saved his life, at least right then. Ed saw the situation for what it was, and he ran.”
Joe’s face was empty, his eyes hard. I knew I had him now, though. Joe came from a family of cops, and he’d devoted most of his life to being the best cop in the city. If there was one thing he could not stomach, it was the idea of a corrupt police officer.
“You ready to ride with me yet?” I said.
His smile was cold as he held up his car keys. “Hell,” he said. “I’m driving.”
CHAPTER 12
Our timing was bad. If we’d been five minutes later getting back to the office, we would have missed Cal Richards. Instead, we pulled into the parking lot just as he was climbing into his car, ready to leave. When he saw us, he got back out and leaned against the trunk of the unmarked Taurus, a smile on his face.
“Gentlemen. How fortunate that you’ve returned. I didn’t want to miss you.”
“What’s up?” Joe said.
“You mind if we go up to your office?” Richards said, stepping away from his car. “Hot as a bastard out here.”
We went in the building and up the steps, Richards walking silently behind us. Joe unlocked the office door and we went inside. Richards sat down across from us and cleared his throat dramatically.
“So, I’ve been out of your office for less than a day and already I’ve got a complaint about your behavior.”
“From?” I said.
“Jerome Huggins. I talked with the man less than an hour ago. He told me a couple of white-boy private eyes were down this morning, giving him grief. Said the old guy of the duo was cool enough, but the young guy was, well, maybe a little headstrong. Jerome didn’t seem to think fondly of him.”
“A lot of PIs in this town,” I said. “Could be anybody.”
Richards rolled his eyes. “Let’s not waste time on the bullshit, okay? I didn’t come down here to bust your balls over this, Perry. I’d be justified in doing that, but I don’t want to. I know you’re investigating your friend’s past, and I got no problem with that. I just want to have some idea of where I can expect you to be turning up.”
“What were you doing at the liquor store?” I countered.
He ran a hand over his bristle-short hair. “Wanted to verify some things with Jerome, is all.”
I grinned. “You lie, Detective.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re too good not to have a problem with the cameras at that place,” I said.
Richards sat expressionless for a minute, until Joe began to laugh softly.
“You confused him, LP. Called him a liar in the same breath as you complimented him. Man doesn’t know what to do now.”
Richards allowed a small smile. “Weighing my options, for sure. And I’m going to play along, Perry, and acknowledge that, yes, I am way too good not to have a problem with those cameras.”
“Any idea who told Jerome to put them up?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. Jerome’s sticking hard and fast to this tale that they’ve been up for years. One look tells you that’s horseshit, but I’m not ready to put him in the box and sweat him yet. Just curious, is all. Jerome’ll be there when I need him.”
“I see.”
“What about you?” he said. “Any idea who’s at the other end of Jerome’s puppet strings?”
I gazed across the room at Joe, who met my look with flat eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, I decided to trust Cal Richards.
“I think your cops set him up. And then I think they killed him. Intentionally.”
Cal let out a long, slow breath. “You want to run that by me again?”
I told him about the discrepancies in the incident report and Alberta Gradduk’s account of the botched arrest, and I told him about Padgett and Rabold watching Mitch Corbett’s house.
Richards didn’t like it. Not a bit.
“Those guys are longtime cops, Perry. Maybe not the best on the force, but they’ve been around. That’s a bold-ass suggestion you just made, implicating them in a conspiracy. In murder.”
“They set him up, Richards. They set him up and they took him down. Ed was innocent.”
He sighed. “Look, Perry, I’m going to give you this because I think you deserve to know. Think you
I was shaking my head even before he was done. “They weren’t his, Richards. Someone planted that shit. Hell, Padgett and Rabold had ample opportunity.”
“I’ve also got a guy who will testify to selling Gradduk the fuse cord. He recognized him from the picture and will swear to it in court.”
“No,” I said again.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked hard at me. “I’ll tell you what else I’ve got—a coroner’s report on the victim. Sentalar was burned pretty badly, but not so badly that you can’t tell that she didn’t die from the fire. She had a bullet in her, first, one right in the center of her forehead. Medical examiners can tell me without a doubt that it was a thirty-two-caliber round. Only one gun is registered to Ed Gradduk, Perry. Also a thirty-two. Now missing.”
I shook my head but didn’t speak. Joe said, “Can they get a specific ballistics match on the bullet?”
“No. Bullet blew out the back side of her skull. If we had it, we might get a precise match, but the fire took care of that. It was in the rubble somewhere, and the fire department guys didn’t locate it. Not that I blame them for that.”
“He got set up,” I said. “Ed got set up, Richards.”
Richards nodded. “He got set up. But not framed for a murder. He killed that girl, Perry. But I think he got set up in having his picture taken while he was doing it. And I want to know why.”
“But Padgett and Rabold—”
“Are a couple of good ol’ boy cops looking for a hot collar,” he said. “That’s all they are. Believe me, I’ll take a good look at this guy, Corbett, and I’ll burn those two good for working a surveillance on him without letting me know. But in the end, I think they’re just looking to make headlines. If they’re guilty of anything, it’s holding out on a tip. I bet they were given some real detail about this, but they don’t want to pass it off because it’ll go to me and they’ll miss the glory.”
I got out of my chair and walked to the window, stood with my back to him, my hands clenched at my sides.
“I know he was your friend,” Richards said. “But he killed her. I’m almost sure of it.”
I didn’t answer. He sat there for a while, then said good-bye to Joe and left. When the door closed behind him, it was quiet. I stayed at the window. Joe let a few minutes pass before he broke the silence.
