was going to find them.
Tony Mazzetti had not said a word. Now he, Stallings, and Sparky were inside Daniel Byrd’s apartment in front of the walk-in closet. In addition to a work shirt and a pair of men’s pants, there were five dresses hanging in the closet.
Mazzetti had a feeling this could be their man. Something about dresses in the shitty apartment didn’t fit. He looked around the apartment and said, “I’d bet my left nut that no woman lived in this apartment.”
“At least not willingly,” mumbled Stallings.
Mazzetti and Stallings turned to Sparky at the same time.
The portly detective looked at each of them and said, “No matter what we found, it doesn’t make breaking into this apartment right.” He checked the labels on each of the dresses quickly and said, “All big sizes. But this doesn’t mean anything.”
Mazzetti shook his head, “Come on, Spark, the totality of the circumstances, man. We get more and more information about this creep and it’s starting to add up. It may be that he likes to keep a dress from each of his victims. It may be something weirder. I know we need to snap some photos and decide what to take with us.”
Sparky said, “Now we’re gonna include theft with our burglary?”
Mazzetti knew he was in an odd position. He had no idea what could be evidence. Anything they took now would be thrown out if they made a case. At the very least he needed some DNA samples. He glanced around the room and saw an ashtray overflowing with Marlboro Light cigarette butts. He hesitated, not wanting Sparky to see what he was about to do.
Mazzetti pulled several small Baggies from his inside coat pocket. He always threw a couple in when he was going to do an interview of a suspect or be in a place where he might need to store something for DNA testing later. These were all hard lessons learned through experience. He let Stallings see the bags in his hand and then cut his eyes to the ashtray. He thought Stallings was an asshole, but he was an asshole Mazzetti could trust. Mazzetti knew Stallings wanted this guy captured more than anyone.
Stallings took the cue and knew exactly what to do. He said to Sparky, “Come into the hallway and let’s discuss this.”
Mazzetti heard the other detectives’ voices raise as Sparky stuck to his position and Stallings tried to get him to look at the other, less legal aspects of the investigation.
That was all Mazzetti needed to reach down and pick up four of the cigarette butts. He shuddered at the thought of touching something that had been in a convicted felon’s mouth, but sometimes he had to do what he had to.
Mazzetti heard Sparky make a final comment on his stance that everything in the apartment was off limits. But he had all he needed.
Now Mazzetti had to worry about this apartment along with everything else. They had to put a full-court press on to find Daniel Byrd and get some questions answered.
THIRTY-FIVE
Patty Levine froze behind the wheel and felt her blood turn to ice. She didn’t want to look into the rearview mirror, but when she did there was nothing to see. The pickup truck scooted around her, the redneck flipping her off as he drove past. None of the pedestrians on the other side of the street turned to look at her way. She pulled the car forward a few feet, threw it into park, and bailed out like she was about to chase a suspect. Instead she ran directly to the rear bumper and her worst fears were realized when she saw the man lying flat on his back with his one good eye focusing on her.
She put both her hands to her cheeks and said, “Oh my God.” She dropped to her knees and put her hand gently on the man’s shoulder. “Can you understand me, sir?”
The man just moaned.
“I’m going to get help. Don’t move.” But when Patty started to stand up he gripped her wrist firmly. She turned back to him.
The man said, “No, no. I okay.”
Patty stared at the man carefully. Even in those few words she heard his Spanish accent. Patty didn’t want the man’s immigration concerns to keep him from getting medical treatment. “It’s all right. We have to make sure you’re not injured.” But he wouldn’t let go of her wrist.
The man slowly sat up and twisted his head around in every direction. “See, I not hurt.” He braced himself on her and slowly worked his way to his feet. Then he spent another thirty seconds shaking his limbs, even though one leg had been hurt by some earlier injury.
Patty kept her hand on the man’s shoulder to make sure he was steady. Finally she said, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
The man gave her a smile that revealed crooked and broken teeth. He nodded his head vigorously and started to walk the way he had been headed originally.
Patty looked in every direction and saw that no one had even noticed her accident. Her stomach burned and her hands were so shaky she wondered if she’d be able to drive.
The man turned and gave her a brief, cheerful wave.
Patty smiled and waved back. She had to get home and swallow something that would calm her down.
John Stallings almost bolted from Tony Mazzetti’s car as he parked behind the PMB.
Mazzetti said, “Where you headed in such a hurry?”
“I’m gonna sit on Byrd’s apartment.”
“You need some sleep. We’ll get out and hit it hard tomorrow and find the shithead. Believe me, we got plenty to do without wasting our time sitting on an empty apartment.”
“I got nothing to do anyway. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I went to bed now. I’m gonna give it an hour or two.”
Mazzetti shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Stallings noticed Sparky Taylor wasn’t speaking to either of them and was giving Stallings a dirty look as he hustled to his county-issued Impala.
Stallings found a place a block down from Byrd’s apartment where his silver Impala didn’t stand out too much. He could see the entrance to the apartment building and the street in each direction for a couple of blocks. He had Mazzetti’s information sheet on Daniel Byrd, which included several photos from over the years. The guy had been in and out of jails since he was sixteen. He went by a number of aliases and one narcotics report noted Byrd always maintained more than one residence. Sometimes it was a small apartment he could run to in addition to a house in a residential area. That got Stallings thinking about how long it’d been since someone had slept in the dingy apartment. It dawned on him that this place was probably a safe house where Byrd only came if he was in trouble. He wanted to talk to some of the neighbors, but it was too late and that was something he needed to talk over with Mazzetti.
As he was about to start the car and head back to his lonely house, his phone rang.
He flipped open the Motorola phone and said, “Stallings here.”
He instantly recognized Maria’s voice. “John, come to the house right away. I’ve got to show you something.”
The line went dead, but Stallings didn’t need any explanation. If Maria needed him, no matter what time of the night, he was going to be there as fast as possible.
Patty Levine lay on top of the covers of her bed ferociously stroking her cat, Cornelia. She’d been practicing deep, cleansing breaths she’d learned in yoga, trying to calm down from the anxiety built up since earlier in the evening. It was not only backing over the homeless man that had upset her. She realized things were unraveling with Tony Mazzetti. She had no idea where he was or what he was doing, just like he had no idea where she was or
