Mazzetti headed over to the group and said, “Anything important?”
Sparky said, “There’s a substance here on the windowsill we should take a sample of.”
A belligerent, middle-aged crime scene investigator said, “It’s nothing. It’s just sugar or something off a drinking glass.”
Mazzetti said, “Take it.” As he turned away he had to add, “Asshole.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
John Stallings had worked almost nonstop after leaving the crime scene at Lexie Hanover’s apartment the day before. He’d taken a few hours to go home and grab something to eat and sleep. He called Maria, hoping she might invite him to spend the night back at the family’s house, but when he reached her she was back to being aloof. When he called the house earlier in the day, Lauren answered and said her mom was “out.” His daughter didn’t elaborate on the statement and didn’t sound happy to be delivering the message. Stallings didn’t have time right now to dissect his wife’s emotions.
Right now Stallings had to focus on finding Daniel Byrd. The rest of the squad was busy with the standard post-homicide tasks. Sergeant Zuni had a knack for using everyone according to their strengths. Patty was trying to find any link among the victims on the Internet or through employment. Other detectives were conducting wide canvasses of the neighborhoods around the homicides. Tony Mazzetti was dealing with the medical examiner and coordinating the tremendous amount of information that came in from a group effort like this. And Sparky Taylor did the things that required cold, objective analysis or anything that kept him away from Tony Mazzetti.
Stallings had already gotten over Sparky’s visit to the sergeant. These were the times and not every cop thought like him. Now Sparky was basking in the glow of finding a chemical on the windowsill of Lexie Hanover’s apartment that an entire crime scene team had missed. Stallings understood how something like that could happen. This was not some clean Hollywood soundstage; this was real life. Police and crime scene investigators were human beings subject to all the failings of any human being.
When he thought of things like this, Stallings wondered if he had attended one too many Narcotics Anonymous meetings with Maria. But it was true. Cops made mistakes. The thing no one ever considered was just how few mistakes they made in the big scheme of things. Every time a convicted criminal was exonerated through DNA or some other means, it made headlines across the country. But those headlines failed to mention anything about the millions upon millions of arrests that helped protect the community and keep criminals off the streets. In this case, Sparky’s hyperattention to policy had proved to be extremely beneficial.
Sergeant Zuni had given Stallings the quiet okay to do what he had to do in order to find Daniel Byrd. She wasn’t like some supervisors who wanted plausible deniability. If he screwed up in some incredible way she was the kind of supervisor who wouldn’t leave him out to dry. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize someone’s career.
So Stallings had spent last evening and all day today checking construction sites and using his veritable army of informants to scour the streets of Jacksonville for one scrawny ex-con. Somehow he knew it’d be his secret weapon, super snitch Peep Moran, who would come through with the information. He had responded to a text message from the diminutive, slightly creepy street hustler asking to meet him near the spot they had first met three years ago.
He found one of the secret holes Peep had created in the hedges to view women urinating. It was amazing how often it happened and more amazing someone wanted to see it. Stallings could put up with almost anything if he could stop this killer.
Stallings leaned against the low wall where Peep was sitting quietly. Neither of them looked at the other, preferring to speak straight ahead in case someone noticed Jacksonville’s most feared cop talking to one of Jacksonville’s most detested perverts.
“You still staying off your own product?”
“Well, see, it’s like this …”
“You just told me everything I need to know. When’d you start using again?”
Peep scratched his head and wiped his nose with his fingers. “I think I started using Saturday and never laid off. Monday morning had to go back to work. Things have gotten really hazy for a couple of days. But I’ve been out asking about your man Daniel Byrd.”
“What do you got?”
“He’s not real well liked on the street. No one gets very specific. No one has any clue where he stays. Looks like he has cribs all over the city.”
Stallings nodded slowly, looking straight ahead. “That’s all stuff I know already, Peep. You have to work a lot harder if you want to earn a living like this.”
“Who says I want to earn a living being a snitch? I just want you to leave me alone if I do you a favor now and then.”
“You haven’t even provided me with enough information to leave you alone.”
For the first time he turned and looked at Stallings. A crooked smile crept across his face. “Maybe I haven’t told you everything.”
Now Stallings faced his informant. “Maybe I left you alone for too long.” To make his point Stallings cracked his knuckles so loudly a woman walking by on the sidewalk stopped and stared at him.
Peep said, “Seriously, I have some real information on Daniel Byrd. But it’s gonna cost you.”
Stallings was not opposed to fair and equitable trade. “It depends on good how the information is, but I’m sure I can come up with something.”
“A hundred bucks and a free pass the next time I get caught.”
“Get caught doing what?”
“That’s the idea of a free pass. You got enough juice at JSO to get me out of almost any trouble I can get into. I’m saying this information is good enough for you to give me out of the jam and pay me a hundred dollars right now.”
“I’ll get you off of anything that’s nonviolent and doesn’t involve kids. Basically means you can have any minor drug offenses.”
Peep considered the offer. “Daniel Byrd lays low all the time. But he’s got to collect his last paycheck at a construction site downtown. He’s picking it up tonight before the construction manager leaves the office about nine o’clock.” Peep smiled smugly and waited for Stallings’s response.
“How on earth did you get all that?”
“A good professional never reveals his methods.”
Stallings had to pat the smaller man on the shoulder and say, “If this is good information you earned your pay and a free pass.”
“Detective Stallings, this is so good you’ll have to take me to a fancy restaurant. I’d like to go to Chili’s over near Jacksonville Landing.”
Stallings laughed out loud, already thinking about who’d help him tonight at the construction site.
Patty Levine had only one flight of stairs to worry about after being summoned to the Internal Affairs office. There were so many things they could question her about that she couldn’t focus or prepare for any one line of questioning. The notice to appear in the Internal Affairs office had been so swift Patty had been unable to find Sergeant Zuni. She had managed to fire off a text message as she stomped up the stairs. This was exactly how these IA guys worked: they caused your anxiety to rise and let you consider every policy infraction you could’ve possibly violated, hoping you’d confess to some minor violation. Patty didn’t have time for this kind of shit this morning. Everyone in the squad was pushing themselves to the limit trying to find the killer of three young women in the city. She hated the idea that someone would distract her from that job.
As soon as she walked through the single, solid wooden door and looked into the spacious, comfortable office of senior IA investigator Ronald Bell she knew exactly what the problem was.
Sitting on a short couch on the back wall was the small Hispanic man Patty had hit with her car two days ago. He had a sling over one arm and a neck brace as he smiled and gave her a little wave. Sitting next to him was
