Chapter 14
Maggie wasted no time after visiting the prison. I
found her on the top floor of headquarters, presenting her case to
Commander Gonzales while Danny seethed at her side. She explained
that there were detailed similarities between the Alissa Hayes case
and the murder of Vicky Meeks, and said she was there to ask that
Bobby Daniels be released and the Hayes case reopened.
I could tell the commander was appalled at what he
was hearing—and that my old partner was starting to get his back up
in that self-righteous way of drunks. I prayed he would not go
there, though I knew my hopes were futile. Danny always went
there.
I had not seen the commander since my death. I was
curious to know what sort of man he’d seem to be now that I could
pick up on so much more than I had been able to while alive.
Gonzales had always intrigued me. We’d been in the academy
together, but by the end of our first decade on the force, he had
lapped me several times since, by anyone’s reckoning, zooming up
through the ranks like a god among mortals. He was a smooth
operator, adept at the ass kissing required for a career in the
administrative ranks. He was also a favorite of newscasters seeking
sound bites since he was the picture of confident good looks—trim,
with immaculate taste in clothing and a dignified demeanor. And he
was Hispanic to boot, which was always good for one angle or
another.
But was he as together inside, in the places where
no one could see?
As I concentrated on him, Gonzales gave off
absolutely nothing. No anger, no curiosity, not even concern. Of
course: he was, above all, a politician, skilled at being what
others wanted him to be. I expected nothing, so Gonzales gave me
nothing back. He was a mirror reflecting blankness. It was
fascinating.
The discussion soon deteriorated into an argument,
thanks to Danny. “Fahey and I worked our asses off on that case,”
he said, interrupting Maggie’s presentation. “We went by the book
and I stand by our conclusions.”
Maggie was disgusted at Danny’s opposition. She had
made the mistake of thinking his earlier acquiescence meant he
would not oppose her attempt to reopen the Alissa Hayes case.
Clearly, she was not experienced in the erratic ways of drunks. But
I knew better. Danny was capable of overlooking the most monumental
factors, then taking a stance on the most mundane of details once
you were inches from the finish line.
“Give me the tie-ins,” Gonzales demanded, ignoring
Danny completely. I knew that was a bad sign. But Danny was too far
gone to notice.
“Me and Fahey did a damn good job on that case,” he
insisted.
Gonzales stared at him coolly. “You and Fahey never
did a damn good job on any case,” he said flatly.
Danny had the good sense to shut up.
Maggie was ready. She buried Danny under a mountain
of irrefutable logic that tied the two cases together: the
identical bruising, the ligature marks, the neat sets of parallel
knife cuts ritualistically inflicted, their physical similarity,
the lapidary dust found at both crime scenes, the fact that they’d
been students at the same college, plus a dozen other similarities
she had discovered since comparing the two cases more
closely.
None of her information elicited an emotional
response from Gonzales. It was not until the end that I felt a
flicker of involvement from him, and when it came, it was based on
pure self-interest.
“We have no leads in the Vicky Meeks murder,”
Maggie explained. “None whatsoever. None of her friends can give us
the slightest clue as to her private life. And there were no
personal objects found at the dump site this time—”
“Which means the murders may not be related,” Danny
interrupted.
Both Gonzales and Maggie ignored him.
“The Meeks investigation is a closed door,” Maggie
told Gonzales. “All we really have to go on is what happened to
Alissa Hayes. Her file has a dozen unexamined leads that might
bring us to the killer of them both.”
Gonzales, still thinking it over, gazed at
Maggie.
“Sir, if we don’t catch this guy soon,” Maggie
said, “he’ll kill again. Vicky Meeks had wounds that indicated a
sense of urgency missing in the Alissa Hayes case. I think he’s
killed in between these two and his compulsion is getting worse. We
just haven’t found all of his victims.”
“According to you, Clarice,” Danny mumbled.
“Shut up, Bonaventura,” Gonzales snapped. “If you
didn’t have less than a year to go before retirement, I’d have
kicked you to the curb long ago.”
Maggie pretended not to hear. I felt a flash of
gratitude toward her on behalf of my old partner.
“Reopen the Hayes case,” Gonzales instructed
Maggie. “You’ll be the lead. I’ll call the DA and let him know what
we’re doing.”
“That scumbag Daniels will be out in three days,”
Danny complained.
“He’ll be out by tonight if I have anything to do
with it,” Gonzales said. I knew then that he’d been convinced the
second Maggie opened her mouth that Danny and I had screwed up
royally. He’d been working out a recovery plan the entire time
Maggie talked: Danny and I would take the fall, Maggie would be
positioned as the heroine in the press—and he would be able to
cover his ass.
“You’re out, too, by the way,” Gonzales added,
glancing at Danny.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny asked.
“It means you’re on desk duty indefinitely. And let
me have your firearms while you’re at it.”
“What?” Danny reached reflexively for his
piece.
Maggie’s hand inched toward her Glock.
“Give me both your firearms, Bonaventura,” Gonzales
said more loudly.
“Why?” Danny asked. “Nothing’s been proven. I want
my union rep.”
“I’m asking for your firearms because, for the
fifth day in a row, you reek of alcohol,” Gonzales explained. “And
I don’t want you screwing up any more cases. If you want to argue,
fine. But I can have a Breathalyzer administered to you in three
minutes flat.” He reached for the phone.
Maggie had melted from the room the instant she
sensed what direction the conversation was going in. But I could
feel her presence lingering outside in the hallway as she listened
quietly.
“So this is what it’s come to,” Danny grumbled as
he handed his regulation piece and backup to Gonzales.
Gonzales took the guns without comment and put them
in a bottom drawer.
“I guess we’re a long way out of the academy,”
Danny said. “So much for the brotherhood.” He never had known when
to quit.
Gonzales shoved the drawer shut so hard his entire
desk rattled. He looked up at Danny with a loathing even I shrank
from. His tone was deadly. “I’m going to tell you this once,
Bonaventura, and once only. I swore I would never say this to you,
but here it goes: you’re done. You’re finished. You’re over. You
will sit out the rest of your career behind a desk. You will be
grateful to me for it.”
“For screwing up one case?” Danny asked
bitterly.
The commander leaned over the desk until his face
was only inches away from Danny’s. “I read the file on your
partner’s murder four times,” Gonzales whispered. “I read every
paragraph on every page. And I don’t ever want to hear another word
from you about ‘the brotherhood’ or, so help me god, I will bring
you down for dereliction of duty and gross negligence contributing
to your partner’s death. At the very least.”
Danny turned white as Gonzales picked up paperwork
and began to read. So far as he was concerned, Danny was as dead as
I was.
After a moment, Danny walked silently from the
room, leaving me to wonder what in god’s name Gonzales had
meant.