Death in the Haight by Ronald Tierney Read Free Book Online Page A

am. You’re hearing them now.” His tone was one of a boss making sure his employee didn’t get too uppity.
    â€œThat might not be quick enough in the future,” Lang said.
    Vanderveer disconnected.
    Lang couldn’t help but think that Dad wanted no part of this adventure. If it was up to him, the kidnapping would solve the problem with his wayward son. The search-and-rescue was driven by Mrs. Vanderveer. Would he pay a million just to shut her up? For the briefest of moments, he entertained the idea that Mr. Vanderveer wasn’t really giving up the million. He’d have to think about that.
    Â * * * 
    Lang’s phone rang.
    â€œYour Mr. Vanderveer and his young friend—” Thanh said.
    â€œHis son James. Michael’s older brother.”
    â€œThey came back to the hotel with two very full and heavy Macy’s shopping bags.”
    â€œThe money.”
    â€œThe money. That means someone will have to stay with the money at all times. Hence the kid coming in from Grand Rapids.”
    â€œYes, seems so. It also means Dad’s not telling us everything,” Lang said. “Can you stick around until later this afternoon?”
    â€œI can. The pickup could be any time now.”
    â€œI’ll send Brinkman over there as well.”
    Â * * * 
    Finished with his testimony in court proceedings on the second floor, Gratelli went down the back steps and out to the sidewalk that went by the medical examiner’s office. He walked through the McDonald’s parking lot to a popular little Vietnamese restaurant around the corner. He ordered his sandwich to go and got in and out before the crowds arrived.
    On his way back to the Hall of Justice, he again saw Stern sitting outside. Gratelli, like many other cops, judges, and lawyers, usually skipped the McDonald’s. The likelihood of running into a felon, witness, or defendant was too great. But that didn’t seem to bother Stern, who’d had his order supersized.
    Gratelli moved toward him. The heavy-set cop had a copy of the
Examiner
open to the sports section.
    â€œYou mind?” Gratelli asked.
    Stern shook his head, but it was difficult to tell whether he was indicating “No, I don’t mind” or “Can’t I get a minute’s rest?”
    â€œYou remember McClellan?” Gratelli asked.
    â€œWe all remember McClellan,” Stern said.
    â€œHe was a lot like you.”
    Stern said nothing. He took a bite of his sandwich.
    â€œPeople thought he was just a big crude guy, too tough and hard for his own good. That’s what some people think of you,” Gratelli continued
    â€œYou think I give a shit what people think?”
    â€œJust what he would have said.”
    â€œI’m not your partner, and I sure as hell don’t need a friend. Go away.”
    â€œEvery crime ate at him, especially the kids and especially the ones he couldn’t do anything about. Too many of those, right?”
    Stern slammed his sandwich back in its cardboard container, shut it. Picked up his large fries and put them in the paper bag.
    â€œThere was a string of murders,” Gratelli said. “Young girls. It was years ago now. You know what happened to him. Not officially. I mean what really happened.”
    â€œYeah, you’re a caring cop, Gratelli. Disgusting. I hope when I get old, I don’t get all sloppy and sentimental. You’re like some . . .” Stern stopped, changed his mind, put his bag down for a moment, put his hands up as if to stop traffic. “Find someone else to bleed on. I don’t want any part of it.” He grabbed his lunch and headed back to the office.
    Gratelli gave him a long head start.
    All this hate was going to kill him, or someone else.
    Â * * * 
    Before he left work, Gratelli again went down the back stairs, this time to visit the medical examiner. He found her cleaning up the last of the