“I’m gonna need specifics.”
Klapec inhaled, exhaled through his nose.
“Since Jimmy’s murder, I start every morning with the Charlotte paper online. Cops don’t bother with nobodies like me and my wife, so we have to rely on the news to know what’s being done about the murder of our own son. Sad, eh?”
Slidell rotated a hand, indicating Klapec should continue.
“I read what this commissioner said about Finney.”
“Boyce Lingo?”
“Yeah. That’s the guy. Lingo made sense about the cops being handcuffed and the courts being paralyzed. About the common citizen needing to take action.”
My eyes met Ryan’s. I knew what was coming.
“They proved him right by setting the murdering sonovabitch free. Lingo was dead-on.” Klapec’s jaw muscles bunched, relaxed. “Jimmy was a homo. Even if a trial took place, they’d make him look bad. I knew justice for my son would have to come from me.”
Klapec’s words were sending chills up my spine.
“I owed it to Jimmy. God knows I didn’t do shit for him while he was alive.”
“Tell me exactly what you did.” Slidell prompted.
“Borrowed my neighbor’s car, drove to Charlotte, waited outside his house, and put the evil bastard out of his misery.”
“How did you find Finney’s address?”
Klapec gave a mirthless snort. “That took about ten minutes online.”
“Describe the weapon.”
“Forty-five-millimeter semi-automatic. A Firestar.”
“Where is it?”
“In a Dumpster behind a Wendy’s, about a quarter mile east of Finney’s place.”
Slidell made a note in his spiral.
“What did you do following the shooting?”
“After tossing the gun, everything’s a blank. This morning I woke up in a motel and headed out of Dodge.”
“Where were you going when the trooper pulled you over?”
“Home. I wanted to be sitting in my own kitchen in Half Moon when the cops finally called.
Again, the whispered heads-up.
I closed my eyes, trying to establish a connection with my lower centers.
No go. Having signaled, my subconscious was now ignoring my call.
Slidell asked about Gunther. Klapec said he’d never heard the name.
Slidell took a moment to review his notes. Or to pantomime doing so.
Then he started in from a different angle.
“Why were you driving your neighbor’s car?”
“Eva needs ours to get to work.”
“That would be Mrs. Klapec.”
Klapec nodded.
“What can you tell me about the death of Detective Rinaldi?”
Klapec’s knuckles turned an even paler shade of yellow. “That’s the cop that was killed up here?”
“Where were you around ten last Saturday night?”
Klapec gave Slidell a look of blank insolence. “I’m leveling with you, here. I killed Finney because the murdering prick needed killing. Don’t try putting anything else on me.”
“Answer the question, Mr. Klapec.”
Klapec considered. Then, “I was leaving a meeting at South Gum Branch Baptist. My wife can vouch for me.”
“What kind of meeting?”
Klapec dropped his chin. I could see scalp gleaming pink through his close-cropped hair. “I attend a support group for anger management.”
“Where’s this church?”
“A good two hundred miles from here.”
“That don’t answer my question.”
“On Highway Two fifty-eight, about halfway between Jacksonville and Half Moon.”
What? Highway 258? That would put the church near Camp Lejeune. I’d been on the Marine Corps base four years back, digging a dead woman from under a crawl space.
Nothing clicked.
“Hold that thought.” Slidell’s voice brought me back. He was leaving Klapec to rejoin us in the corridor.
Tipping his head toward the window, Slidell asked Ryan, “Thoughts?”
“He’s wrapped pretty tight.”
“Poor bastard just shot the man who murdered his kid.”
“Maybe,” I said.
Slidell’s eyes slid to me, back to Ryan.
“Think he’s on the level?”
“Seems sincere,” Ryan said. “But he could be mental.”
“Or covering for someone.”
“They swabbed his hands for gunshot residue?”
“Yeah. He’s fired a weapon. Dipshit’s either too stupid to scrub down or smart enough to fire a cover-up shot.”
“I’m sure you have a unit checking the Wendy’s Dumpster.”
“You bet your ass I have. And every motel along that corridor.”
Slidell turned to me. “How about you? Find anything in your fandangle photos can help put this whole thing to bed?”
For a moment
The SEM scans of bone from Jimmy Klapec’s femur. Marion Ireland’s envelope was still in my car. Ryan’s appearance had blown it right off my compass.
“I’m not quite finished.” I looked at Klapec to avoid direct eye contact with Slidell.
“Uh. Huh.”
“I’ll have at it again as soon as I leave here.”
“How ’bout that’s right now. This guy’s life’s in the toilet. Least we can do is assure him he got the right witch.”
With that Slidell returned to his suspect.
33
RYAN AND I STOPPED AT A STARBUCKS THEN DROVE TO THE Annex. I got Ireland’s envelope from my car and spread the photos across my kitchen table. Ryan sat beside me, sipping his coffee in a way that grated on my nerves.
As I viewed the SEM hard copy, I explained what I was doing.
“When Jimmy Klapec’s body was still unidentified, I took samples from his femur and made thin sections for microscopic examination.”
“Why?” Ryan asked.
