Chain of Evidence by Ridley Pearson Read Free Book Online

lettering was jerky, indicating stress—understandable, he thought, given that the man was about to kill himself. Nonetheless, the wording was curious, though he was loath to admit it. What is she after?
    “The choice of words is what intrigues me,” she said. “The word crimes for instance. Is that how a guy like this thinks? Crimes? I’ve interviewed dozens of these men, Joe. It doesn’t ring right with me.” He could see in her doubting expression that he faced trouble. “Does that sound right to you? Some down-and-out slime ball living on the edge of Bellevue Square?” She answered herself, “It sounds more like a prosecuting attorney than Gerry Law.”
    Or a detective , he kept to himself, thinking of Walter Zeller.
    “What if Gerry Law was into drugs?” she asked. “What if he has a Narco record as well?”
    Roman Kowalski had worked Narcotics before coming over to CAPers; Dartelli finally saw what she was after—she suspected Kowalski. Not Zeller.
    She had nearly flawless skin, belying her age. She nibbled at her lower lip as she concentrated and said, “The Narco files are kept separate, same as mine. Without access to those files, we’d never know if there was a connection between an investigator and these suicides or not.”
    “Listen,” Dartelli said, feeling heat spike up his spine, “this is interesting, Abby, but I doubt there’s any great cover-up going on here.” There had been a shake-up in the department a year earlier. Two Narco detectives had been sent packing. She was still sniffing these same bushes.
    “You’re CAPers, Joe. You could take another look at the Lawrence case—maybe it’s connected to Stapleton.”
    Maybe it is, but not in the way you think. It occurred to him how convenient it would be for him if it could be connected to Kowalski. Realizing that she had handed him the Lawrence file not for his sake, but because of her own curiosity, Dartelli wondered how to shake her interest. “What is it you want from me, Lieutenant?”
    “It’s Abby , Joe. Please! And you know how it is with me and CAPers. How far would I get with any of this?”
    It was true, her rank and privilege were coveted and the source of much envy and resentment in CAPers. Sexism was rarely discussed, but it existed. “Any of what , Abby?”
    She offered him a look of annoyance and disappointment that reminded him of his mother. He felt a pang of guilt and he wanted to shout: Leave me alone!
    She reminded, “Two suicides , both investigated by the same detective—one, with a questionably worded note. You were at the Stapleton scene, Joe. All I’m wondering … what I’m asking … was there anything there to suggest any kind of—”
    “No,” he cut her off. “Nothing.” Leave it alone , he mentally encouraged. Drop it.
    The interruption infuriated her. “You, Joe? You’re not one of them. ” She meant the clique at CAPers, the old boys’ club. No, he wasn’t one of them; he was Ivy, the outcast with the education—only Zeller had included him. “Don’t tell me that. I don’t believe that for a minute. We’re not so different, you and me. And don’t tell me to go running to Internal Affairs, because you know damn well that would be the beginning and end of it. Kowalski is far too well connected.”
    Roman Kowalski was loved by all. Perhaps the worst cop on the force, the biggest fuck-off, and the detective with the best connections to the top, the most friends and allies. “You want me to stir up trouble? Is that what you’re asking?”
    “Just forget it,” she said, standing up, glaring down at him, and then storming off.
    He wanted to call out to her—to stop her and tell her that yes, he too was curious. But he sat in his chair watching her go, hurting, knowing somehow that things were different now, and that with Abby’s involvement he would have to beat her to the truth.
    He looked at the open file in his lap. She was good; she was thinking; she was trouble.
    Damn her ,