Chapter 14
016
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.
Desolate Angel
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