Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco), page 9
Leo’s Tobacconist
Oak Grove Road
Homewood, Noon
After a call from the Crime Scene Unit as they left the office, their first stop was a return to the residence of Leo Kurtz to meet the forensic folks. His home was like his Bronco. Vintage with a definite collector’s appeal. The place was small but elegant in an understated way. The sort of home, Kerri considered, perfect for a single man or couple who had no desire for the burden of a larger property.
Despite their second look, unless the forensic sweep underway turned up something, the place was clean of anything useful to the case. Definitely nothing to suggest any sort of tie-in on Kurtz’s part with drug activity or any ongoing relationship or connection to Walsh.
Thankfully, Kerri and Falco’s second stop proved a bit more fruitful. Tara McGill had come through like a champ. All eight employees of Leo’s Tobacconist, including McGill, had been seated around the bar. Officer Franklin had waited with them to ensure no one went into the stockroom or the office and that no one compared stories.
Franklin continued to babysit while Kerri and Falco used the employee lounge area for a sort of interrogation room. So far, every single person they had interviewed had said the same thing. Leo was a great guy, an amazing boss with no known enemies. There were no problems whatsoever. Until George Caldwell was up. Caldwell had worked for Kurtz the longest. When he joined Kerri and Falco in the stockroom, his unease was immediately visible.
As soon as the preliminary details and questions were out of the way, Caldwell blurted, “Leo was a little distracted lately. I can’t say why; I only know he seemed worried.”
Kerri shared a look with her partner. No one else had mentioned any concerns.
“Did Mr. Kurtz say he was worried about anything in particular?” Falco asked for clarification. “Or was this your personal feeling or assessment?”
“He didn’t say anything,” Caldwell admitted, “but something was wrong. He wasn’t himself. I’ve known him too long not to have noticed. So yes, this was my own assessment based on what I saw.”
“Any reason to believe he had financial problems?” Kerri asked, no matter that the bank and credit card statements she and Falco had pulled showed a hefty savings and practically no debt. “No recent breakups, personally or professionally?”
Caldwell shook his head. “Leo was set. He’d saved well and invested even better. He didn’t need to keep running this place. He did it because he loved it and wanted to keep us all in jobs. He’d been single since his partner died.”
“No one he dated or went out with even occasionally?” Falco asked.
“No one. I don’t think he felt the need. This place was his life since he lost Perry.”
“Perry was his life partner?” Kerri knew the answer already, but confirming was always the best practice. Perry Sager and Leo Kurtz had been together for thirty years. Neither had extended family, only each other and this place.
“Yes,” Caldwell said with a nod.
“You can’t think of any reason,” Kerri pressed, “that explains this worry or distraction you noticed?”
Caldwell shrugged. “In my opinion, it was probably Tara. I don’t think she was living up to his expectations in her new position as assistant manager.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
“I’ve been thinking about Tara,” Falco said. “Of all the employees here, you’ve worked for Kurtz the longest. Why weren’t you his assistant manager? Why Tara?”
Exactly, Kerri mused.
“My ticker,” Caldwell explained. “I’m on medication for my blood pressure and my heart. If I’m going to keep working, my doctor says I have to limit the stress. Leo wanted me in the position, but I had to turn him down.” He sighed. “I couldn’t take the risk.”
Falco glanced at Kerri, and she threw out the next question. “Why didn’t you mention your concerns about Mr. Kurtz the first time we spoke?”
He sighed again, gave his head a shake. “I was in shock, I guess. And it didn’t seem relevant when compared with murder. But then the idea just wouldn’t let go. It kept eating at me. I had to tell you, whether it was relevant or not.”
“You didn’t talk to Tara about this?” Falco presented the next logical query.
Another shake of the older man’s head. “I didn’t see the point. Especially now. If she wasn’t living up to his expectations, it was irrelevant with him gone.”
Understandable. Kerri said, “We’d like you to make a list of any friends or close associates Leo had—besides his employees. If you have phone numbers, that would be great as well.” If he had concerns, as Caldwell suggested, maybe he’d shared them with a friend.
“Sure thing, but I have to tell you, we”—he patted his chest—“were Leo’s friends and associates. Outside this place, he always said that anyone else was just an acquaintance.”
McGill had said basically the same thing. “Any names you can come up with may prove useful.” Kerri passed Caldwell her card. “We may have other questions later.”
“Of course.” He nodded adamantly. “Anything I can do to help. I loved Leo like a brother.”
Falco pushed back his chair and stood. “Thank you, Mr. Caldwell. Please call if you think of anything else.”
“Believe me, I will.” Caldwell got to his feet. “I want whoever did this caught. Leo was a good man. He didn’t deserve to go out this way.”
When he’d exited the stockroom, Falco said, “That leaves us with only Lucky Vandiver.”
They had saved him for last. Mostly to make him sweat. McGill had stated that the young man and newest employee of Leo’s was a coke user. He had a couple of public intoxications on his record. One public disturbance. Clearly the man had issues, including a temper.
“Let’s find out what he has to say,” Kerri said.
Falco walked to the door that separated the stockroom from the retail shop. He opened it and stuck his head out. “Yo! Vandiver, you’re up.”
Her partner waited at the door until Vandiver swaggered in, then he closed it with a firm thud.
Vandiver took a seat across the table from Kerri. Falco leaned against the wall a few feet away. Kerri allowed a moment to visually assess the twenty-three-year-old. Shaggy blond hair. Bloodshot blue eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. The Rag & Bone Henley—she’d spotted the logo on the hem—paired with the probably equally expensive jeans looked as if he’d slept in them for a couple of days already. Daddy made him work, but Kerri doubted Lucky had bought his wardrobe on his minimum wage salary.
“Mr. Vandiver,” Kerri began, “thank you for coming in today.”
One shoulder rose, then fell with a careless shrug. “It’s not like I could say no.”
This was mostly true. “Are you certain you don’t want an attorney present?”
Kerri asked this question of everyone they’d interviewed as part of the preliminary prep before moving into the more relevant questions. With this guy, she felt the question was particularly important for setting the tone. She would wager every cent in her bank account that he hadn’t told his father about this command performance. Whenever a person hid something like this, there was a reason—a motive. In a murder case, every motive had to be analyzed.
Even those that might turn out to be irrelevant.
Lucky shook his head. “Don’t need one.”
Which meant he didn’t want to tell his father, because then he’d have to face his interrogation. Kerri had a feeling Lucky—Lucas Lorenzo Vandiver, actually—would rather face a firing squad than his father.
“All right. Why don’t you tell me about Sunday night?”
He stared at Kerri. “Where do you want me to start?”
“When you arrived at work.”
“I came in at six. I bused tables and loaded and unloaded the dishwashers. Around nine I started the cleanup. I left a little after ten. Same time as Tara.”
“Was there anyone else here besides Leo when you left?”
He shook his head. “He was alone in his office. I know because I asked him for an advance on my pay.”
“Why did you need an advance? You just got paid on Friday, right?”
Lucky shifted in his chair and stared at Falco. “The usual reason. I was broke. You never got paid on Friday and was broke by Sunday?”
Falco didn’t bother responding.
“Did anyone else hear this exchange?” Kerri asked, drawing his attention back to her. Tara hadn’t mentioned it.
He shrugged again. “I don’t know. Ask Tara. She’s always nosing around.”
“You needed to score some blow?” Falco asked.
Vandiver’s eyes widened. “What? No, man. I don’t do that shit.”
“That’s not what we heard,” Falco argued. “We heard you’re a regular cokehead. Daddy probably doesn’t know that.”
Vandiver made a sound of disbelief. “Don’t believe everything that bitch Tara tells you,” he warned. “She’s crazy.”
“Why would you think Tara would suggest such a thing or that she’s crazy?” Kerri asked. “Obviously Mr. Kurtz trusted her, since he made her an assistant manager.”
Vandiver snorted. “Did you ask her how she got that position? I’m guessing she was on her knees at the time.”
Falco walked to the table and flattened his hands there, leaning toward Vandiver. “What’re you saying?”
Vandiver turned his face up to Falco’s and laughed. “I’m saying she would do anything to get ahead, including say shit about me. She’s like that. How do you think she got the job and not George?”
“Mr. Caldwell turned down the offer,” Falco said. “He didn’t want the added responsibility.”
“Yeah, he would say that,” Vandiver scoffed. “A guy’s gotta save face.”
Kerri could see how others might think as much if Caldwell hadn’t chosen to share his health issues.
“So, you don’t like Tara,” Falco said as he straightened away from the table. “Is that it? She’s in with the boss and maybe she wouldn’t do you any favors.”
“Like I said, she’s a bitch. If you really knew her, you’d get it.”
“Did Mr. Kurtz give you the advance?” Kerri asked.
Vandiver’s attention shifted back to her. “Sure. He was nice like that. He gave me a hundred bucks.”
“What did you do with the money?” Falco tossed out, leaning toward him again.
Vandiver smiled up at him. “That’s none of your business, man.”
“We both know you probably rushed out to meet up with your favorite supplier,” Falco pressed. “Why didn’t you just get what you needed from Leo?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Vandiver stared at Falco as if his head had done a three sixty right there on his shoulders. “Leo wasn’t into drugs, man. He would have canned me on the spot if he’d known . . . fuck.” The guy snapped his mouth shut.
“Your father and Mr. Kurtz were friends,” Kerri stated.
Vandiver blinked. “Yeah. He knew my old man’s an overbearing asshole.”
“Did Mr. Kurtz ever mention any concerns he had in his own life?” Kerri asked. “Maybe he seemed distracted or worried lately.” She opted to throw in Caldwell’s comments for a reaction.
“As far as I know, he didn’t have any. Leo was cool like that. He didn’t let shit get to him. He just rolled with it, you know?”
“Had you ever seen Asher Walsh in the shop before?” Falco asked.
They had asked each employee this question as part of the preliminaries, and none had seen Birmingham’s new DDA before. It was possible Kurtz and Walsh conducted their meetings after hours or away from the shop.
Vandiver cut Falco an annoyed look. He appeared to still be pissed that Falco had suggested his former boss would sell drugs. “No. Never. The only time I ever saw him was at that big party my mom had for my dad’s birthday last month. Leo was there too.”
Kerri looked from Vandiver to Falco and back. “Walsh was a friend of your father’s?”
Another of those lackluster shrugs. “I don’t know if they were friends. But my dad knows everyone who’s anyone. Hell, the mayor and every other boss in town was at his party.”
“Thank you, Mr. Vandiver. If we have other questions, we may need to speak with you again.” Kerri passed him a card. “Please feel free to call us if you think of anything else you want to tell us.”
Vandiver took the card and looked it over. “Can do. If you call me, just be sure you call my cell phone and not the house. My dad is not a nice guy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kerri assured him.
When he had swaggered away, she turned to Falco. “We should talk to his father.”
Falco nodded. “I’m down with that.”
Kerri stood and pushed in her chair. “If McGill and Kurtz were intimately involved on some level, maybe she knows a little more than she’s shared.”
Falco grinned. “Count on it.”
“She may have been pressuring him for a raise or some other benefit that had him doubting his decision to promote her into management in the first place. That could explain what Caldwell noted about his old friend.”
“Either way,” Falco offered, “McGill needs a little more of our attention.”
“No question.”
The door opened, and a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair walked in. He wore a designer suit that spoke volumes about where he shopped, and he carried himself like a military general. Maybe Vandiver had decided to summon the family attorney.
A little late.
“Detectives,” the man announced, “I am Special Agent in Charge Mason Cross, DEA.” He produced his credentials, then repocketed the leather case.
Cross? DEA? Kerri extended her hand. “Kerri Devlin.”
He shook her hand, then reached for her partner’s.
“Luke Falco. I’ve heard about you, Agent Cross.”
Kerri considered her partner, but she supposed it made sense. Falco had once worked under deep cover with narcotics. He likely was acquainted with a number of DEA agents.
“I apologize for barging in like this,” Cross said. “But we need to talk before this goes any further.”
“This?” Kerri pulled on her jacket.
“This investigation,” he explained. “The DEA is taking lead. We hope you’ll continue to support our efforts to solve this case.”
What the hell? “Agent Cross, I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed,” Kerri countered. “This is a homicide investigation. The BPD’s Major Investigations Division is lead.”
“Perhaps there has been a lapse in communication, Detective. You may not be aware that Asher Walsh had stumbled into an ongoing DEA operation. We’re not sure yet how Mr. Kurtz was involved, but the investigation is ours. As I said, we appreciate any support you’d like to give us. But we’ll need you to take a stand-down. All movement related to his case will need to be approved by me first.”
Falco stepped into the conversation. “If Walsh had stumbled into your op, why wait until he’s murdered to make it known? You’re a little behind the curve, Agent Cross.”
The older man smirked. “Falco. I know that name. You made quite the reputation for yourself a few years back down in . . . where was it? Mobile? Although I respect your impressive record in my world, this is my world. We clear?”
“Very,” Falco confirmed.
Kerri, on the other hand, was not clear at all about this turn of events. “We’ll check back with you, Agent Cross, after we speak with the chief.”
As far as she was concerned, the chief of police trumped some federal agent in charge any day of the week.
10
1:30 p.m.
Birmingham Police Department
First Avenue North
“This is what the chief wants.” Lieutenant Dontrelle Brooks didn’t look any happier about the decision than Kerri or Falco.
She wanted to scream. The joint task force was a go, and DEA Special Agent in Charge Cross was lead, just as he had warned.
“This is our case, boss,” Falco said. “It’s a homicide, and we haven’t even confirmed a connection to drugs.”
Brooks leaned back in his chair and studied Falco. “So, you’re suggesting Agent Cross made up this whole ongoing op story just to steal your double-homicide case.”
“That’s not what we’re suggesting,” Kerri countered. “What we’re saying is that since the homicides are two locals, we should be lead. Cross and whoever else the mayor and the powers that be have decided needs to be involved are welcome to play with us too.”
Kerri liked the new mayor’s plans and goals, but having one who wanted to run the police department, too, was crossing the line. Wasn’t that the way of things now? Everybody thought they were better at policing than cops. Cops were suddenly the enemy.
Brooks turned up his palms. “This is what the chief wants, and this is what we’re going to do. End of story.”
Kerri glanced at Falco. He looked even more irritated than she was.
“The first task force meeting will be at four this afternoon in the main conference room. Be there and be nice.” Brooks looked from Kerri to Falco and back. “I don’t want to hear about you two unless it’s news that with your gracious and insightful cooperation the case has been solved.”
“Yes, sir.” Kerri turned to go.
“Do not push the boundaries on this one,” Brooks warned before she could get out the door. “Mayor Warren is watching the department closely. No missteps. No ignoring orders. She wants to see team players, and so do I.”
This time Kerri didn’t bother with a response. She walked out, Falco close on her heels.
“You know they’re going to leave us out of the loop every chance they get,” Falco muttered.
As much as Kerri didn’t want to go straight to that conclusion, she’d worked with various federal agencies enough times to know he was right. “That’s exactly what they’ll do.”
Rather than go back to their cubicle, she headed for the exit. They didn’t have a lot of time before the task force meeting, and she wanted to talk to Sadie Cross first.
Once they were outside, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me Cross had a father who lives right here in Birmingham and who’s DEA?” It hadn’t been until they were driving away from the tobacco shop that Falco had announced: “Oh, by the way, Agent Cross is Sadie Cross’s father.” The concept was startling considering the two were polar opposites.
