Payback in Death, page 8
“I am?”
“Yes. Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve; Peabody, Detective Delia, conducting witness interview with Webster, Lieutenant Donald, in the matter of Captain Martin Greenleaf’s homicide. Detective Peabody will lead the interview.”
“Ah. Lieutenant, you worked under Captain Greenleaf in the Internal Affairs Bureau.”
“Yes, he was my captain when I transferred into IAB. I served under him for nearly six years until his retirement.”
“You also had a personal relationship with him.”
“I did. You could say he took me under his wing, personally and professionally. The Greenleaf family became my surrogate family. Martin was a father to me.”
“In your statement to Lieutenant Dallas last night, you said you saw Captain Greenleaf yesterday, early afternoon, in your office in IAB.”
“Yes.”
“And at that time, you and he made arrangements for you to go to his residence that evening. At nine.”
“That’s correct.”
“Would you detail your movements and actions from the time you saw Captain Greenleaf in IAB until you discovered his body in his residence?”
Again, Webster stared into his coffee. Then he pushed it aside.
“I had a backlog of paperwork and some case reviews to handle,” he began.
Eve listened as he went step-by-step. He’d had time to think, time to calm, she noted. And he had a few more details today, but his basic story remained the same.
And solid.
“What did you do when you found Captain Greenleaf deceased at his workstation in his residence?”
“I put my hand on his shoulder. He was still warm. I saw the stunner on the floor, read the message on the screen.”
“Did you attempt to move him, to resuscitate him?”
“He was gone. I knew it was a setup. I knew him and I knew that instantly. I stepped back to preserve the integrity of the scene, and called it in. I requested medical assistance and uniforms. Then I sent a request to Lieutenant Dallas, through Dispatch, to come to the scene because I wanted Martin to have the best I knew.
“When the MTs arrived, I showed them my ID, informed them Martin was deceased. I told them to confirm same without disturbing the scene or the body, which they did. The uniforms arrived while the MTs did so. I identified myself again, ordered one to secure the apartment, wait outside the door for Lieutenant Dallas, and the other to remain with me and the captain to keep the scene secure.”
After rubbing a hand over his narrow face, he took a long breath. “I disturbed nothing. After I found him, I touched nothing but the doorknob to admit the MTs, the uniforms. When I entered prior, I touched the door, both sides. I set the beer I’d brought on the table just inside, and may have touched that. I honestly don’t know. I may have touched the doorjamb to his office, but I don’t believe so. I touched his shoulder. Nothing else.”
He paused, looked at Eve.
“It was as important as it’s ever been since I picked up the badge to maintain the integrity of a crime scene.”
It would have been, she thought. She didn’t question that.
“Between the time you saw Captain Greenleaf at IAB and found him in his residence,” Peabody continued, “did you speak to anyone about your plans to go to his apartment that night?”
“Detective Dennison also worked Sunday and worked late, and he asked if I wanted to go grab some dinner. I told him I was going to hang with the captain, and that’s when I noticed the time. I closed down, and Dennison and I walked out together. About eight-thirty.”
“Did you mention Captain Greenleaf would be alone in his apartment?”
“No, just that I was going over there. Dennison and I walked down the block, then I walked the rest of the way to my apartment to change. I ran late because I got lost in the work, then wanted to change out of the suit. I picked up some beer on my way to the captain’s place. Dallas established TOD about the time I was walking in.”
“Actually, TOD was five minutes prior to you entering the apartment building,” Eve put in.
He gave her a look drenched in sorrow. “Either way, I was late.”
“Lieutenant.” Peabody pulled his attention back. “At any time that day at IAB, or previously, did Captain Greenleaf express any concerns to you regarding threats?”
“Not yesterday, no. He gave no indication whatsoever he had any concerns. And not since his retirement. He discussed threats with me and others in IAB when threats were made.”
“Are threats documented?”
“If reported, any and all threats are documented and filed. I informed Captain Skylar this morning of Captain Greenleaf’s death and requested he share those records with Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Again, we’re sorry for your loss. Your cooperation and information are very helpful.”
“One more thing, for the record,” Eve said. “You’ve had opportunities to observe, in a very personal way, the relationship between Captain Greenleaf and his spouse, Elizabeth. How would you describe it?”
“Rock solid. A marriage built on love and the love of family. Mutual respect.”
He let out another breath. “They laughed at each other’s jokes. Enjoyed each other, took care of each other. Anyone thinking about marriage would look at theirs and hope to build something as solid and lasting.”
“Okay. Interview end. Record off. That’s all we need for now,” Eve told him.
“What did Morris find?”
“I need to write a detailed report.”
“Dallas. Please.”
She’d hoped to give it to him in writing. Have that small distance.
But he deserved to know.
“What I found, what the head sweeper found, but now confirmed by the chief medical examiner. First, Greenleaf’s prints on the weapon are too firm and distinct. And there are only the two, which would mean a seasoned cop about to self-terminate only picked up the weapon once, and didn’t check the power level—his prints weren’t on the power mechanism, which didn’t hold for me. More telling, the stunner marks on his neck. These are also too deep, too clear, and the ME determined for that level of burn, the slight laceration from the probes, the stunner would need to be jammed firmly in the area of the carotid, and held there for several seconds.”
“Not possible.”
“No, not possible. The position of the weapon on the floor struck me wrong. You get stunned, you flail. It’s more likely the weapon would have landed farther away. If his fingers simply gave way, more likely it would have landed in his lap, or maybe bounced off the arm of the chair. But if his fingers just gave way, he couldn’t hold the stunner to the killing point for several seconds.”
“This is why I wanted you. Why I reached out for you. I didn’t consider the position of the weapon.”
“Roarke noticed something else. The note. It didn’t read like the last words from a man to a woman he’d loved, lived with for decades. He didn’t say he loved her, didn’t mention the family they’d made.”
“I missed that, too,” Webster murmured. “I missed that.”
“Because you’re too close, and that’s why you’re not part of the investigation. We’ll keep you in the loop.”
Chapter Six
He rose when Eve did.
“Can you give me something? Just drone work, just grunt shit. Anything.”
“If your captain hasn’t sent those copies, you could give him a push on it.”
“I will.” He walked out with Eve and Peabody.
“We’re going to have to interview the family. They’re among those who’d know about the windows, who’d have easy access to the bedroom.”
“Ah Jesus.” He shoved at his hair. “You’ll clear them, but you need to talk to them. I’ll smooth the ground there.”
“Do you know the women Ms. Greenleaf was out with last night?”
“I’ve met two of them—three now, counting the one from last night. Yeah, I can smooth that ground, too.”
“You hadn’t met either of the upstairs neighbors before last night?”
She held up a hand before he answered, as she heard shouting from her bullpen.
She quickened her pace, turned inside.
Jenkinson stood, feet planted, arms folded, while a man—another cop, Eve thought, with the cheap suit, hard-shined shoes—shouted in his face.
Still another cop had a hand on the shouter’s arm, trying to pull him back.
Reineke stood on one side of his partner, Santiago and Carmichael on the other. Half the uniforms stood outside their cubes in the back, and the rest watched.
“You think I’m going to take any bullshit from you?”
Jenkinson, way too calm to Eve’s mind, edged just an inch closer. “I think you’re going to fucking stand down before I stand you down.”
“You threatening me?” Now the shouter poked a finger in Jenkinson’s chest.
“There it fucking is.”
Eve caught the grin on Jenkinson’s face before she pushed in.
“Hold it.” She held a hand up toward Jenkinson. “You hold it. What the hell’s going on?”
“Jesus, Lansing, what the fuck?”
When Webster spoke, Eve shot him a look. “You know this asshole?”
Lansing spun to her. “We’re going to have a talk, you and me, right here, right now. I know who you think you are and, I’m telling you, if you think you’re going to cover up the death of a good man with some bullshit excuse for an investigation, I’ll bury you.”
“Lansing, back off. For God’s sake, back off.” His companion pulled at his arm again, and this time got an elbow in the gut.
“You think being Whitney’s pet poodle and some rich man’s toy makes you invulnerable? I’m going to dig up everything there is to dig up on you, you bitch, then shove you in the hole and smother you with it.”
She sized him up as he ranted.
Dark blond hair, heavy-lidded brown eyes, compact build.
And out of control.
“What’s his rank, Webster?”
“Goddamn it.” Webster shoved at his hair. “Detective.”
“Just want to get that straight. It sounds like you’re going to be busy, Detective, so you’d better get started. Right now, you’re going to cease any and all physical contact with my detective, and get the hell out of my bullpen.”
“I don’t take orders from you.” And shoved her.
Eve had to slap her own hand against Jenkinson’s chest to stop him—and nearly didn’t.
“He fucking laid his fucking hands on you, LT. That fucker fucking laid fucking hands on you in front of my fucking face.”
Lansing rolled his shoulders and sneered. “You think you can do something about it, old man?”
“Other than break you into pieces and pick his teeth with your bones after?” Eve kept her hand firm on Jenkinson’s chest. “Not much. Me? I’m meaner, and while beating the crap out of you to the entertainment of my bullpen would be a highlight of my day—”
“Let’s try it, bitch.”
“Jesus Christ, Lansing. Webster, I couldn’t stop him.”
Webster shook his head at the second cop. “Let her handle it.”
“Oh, so satisfying,” Eve said, and smiled into Lansing’s furious, red-streaked face. “But meaner. As you’ve shown you have no respect for a superior officer, for your badge, and have chosen to defile Captain Greenleaf’s name by your stunningly stupid behavior—”
“Don’t you say his name. Don’t you let his name come out of your fucking mouth or I’ll put your teeth down your throat.”
“As my recorder’s been engaged since I walked in, I’ve documented your stunningly stupid behavior, your assault on a fellow officer, and another on a superior officer, I will make it a mission to see appropriate disciplinary action’s taken. If you want to keep your badge after that disciplinary action’s taken, you’ll get the hell out now.”
“Fuck you.”
“Your choice.”
He put a hand on the butt of his weapon. Eve actually felt the dozen cops behind her do the same.
Jesus Christ.
“Stand down, Detective.” Eve said it quietly. “You need to stand down now.”
“I said fuck you. You think you’re going to screw over Captain Greenleaf, you’re the one who’s going to get screwed over. You and every half-assed excuse for a cop in your division. You’re all going down because I’m taking you down.
“What the fuck are you going to do about it?”
When he fisted his free hand, Eve thought:
Yeah, shit. There it fucking is.
“Stand down, Detective!”
Whitney surged in. Eve wasn’t sure she’d ever seen that much cold fury on his face before.
“Commander, I’m going to file formal charges for corruption and dereliction of duty against Lieutenant Dallas for her negligence in Captain Greenleaf’s death. As well as—”
“My office, Detective Lansing. Wait in chairs in my admin area until I come.”
“Commander—”
“I gave you an order, Detective. I won’t repeat it.”
“She’s a disgrace to the department, and you know it. You’ve always known it.” Lansing stormed out.
“I apologize, Commander,” Dennison began. “Lieutenant, everyone. He just lost it when the captain informed us about Captain Greenleaf’s death, and that Lieutenant Dallas was primary and had yet to determine if it was self-termination or homicide. I tried to calm him down, came after him, tried to stop him.”
“Lieutenant?”
“This detective attempted to stop Lansing, and got an elbow in the gut for his efforts. This detective made no threats or accusations, sir.”
“Dennison, go back to IAB and tell your captain to report to my office.”
“Yes, sir. Webster…” Shaking his head, Dennison walked out.
“Lieutenant, sum it up briefly.”
“I have it on record, Commander. I engaged my recorder when I heard the raised voices and stepped into the bullpen.”
“Good. Your office.”
“Party’s over,” Eve said as she turned. “Go be cops.”
“I assume I’m going to need coffee.”
“Take the desk chair, sir. I’ll get the coffee and set the recording on-screen.”
He settled into the chair, let out a long, long sigh. “Did he threaten you physically?”
“Yes, sir, he did.”
Whitney nodded, took the coffee she offered. “One question before I review the record. How did you stop Jenkinson from laying him out?”
“It wasn’t easy. On-screen.”
Whitney watched without comment, and Eve drank coffee. It didn’t do a thing for the banging in her head or the burn in her gut.
“‘Pet poodle,’” Whitney murmured. “Rottweiler might work better. Hit me again,” he said, and passed her his empty mug. “He assaulted Dennison, Jenkinson, and you, on record. He made threats to physically harm fellow officers, made baseless accusations, and threatened to use his position in IAB to go after you for personal reasons, was insubordinate, violent, abusive, and out of control.
“He’s done.”
“Sir—”
Whitney waved that away. “He’s been disciplined before, Dallas, for insubordination. He’s been involved in altercations that weren’t on record and got mired in he said / he or she or they said. There are often complaints about IAB, but he has more than his share. He’s done.”
Whitney rose. “Send me a copy of the recording and file a detailed report on same.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Would you have done so if I hadn’t walked in on it?”
“Yes, sir. He’s out of control.”
“Agreed. One more question. How did you manage to keep your own control?”
Now she sighed. “It was harder not to take a shot at him than stopping Jenkinson from taking one. But if I had, the entire bullpen might have taken one. They don’t deserve that on their record.”
“Agreed again. Now, before I go deal with this, the reason I happened to walk in at that particular moment. Jenkinson’s results from his DS exam. I wanted to inform his lieutenant in person.”
“Yes, sir. He passed. No way he wouldn’t.”
“And yet another agreement. Will you call him in to tell him privately?”
“Permission to speak frankly, Commander.”
“Granted.”
“No fucking way. This division’s a team.”
They proved it every day. Hell, she thought, they just had.
“Would you like to inform him, sir?”
“This is for you. But I’d like to be there. By the way,” he said as they walked out, “interesting balloon.”
“Bullpen humor.”
“Yours doesn’t lack for it.”
She approached Jenkinson’s desk, looked at his mutinous face, his insane tie. “Jenkinson.”
“I said what I said to that fucker, and I’d say it again if I get the chance. We stand up for each other in here, and we stand for our lieutenant.”
“Do you think I couldn’t take that fucker?”
“I think you’d have kicked his ass, then wiped the floor with what was left of it. That doesn’t mean I don’t regret some you didn’t let me do it first.” He shrugged. “I’ve gotta stand by that, Commander.”
“So noted and understood.”
“I appreciate the backup,” Eve said to the room at large. Then she held out a hand to Jenkinson. “I appreciate the sentiment and the backup, Detective Sergeant Jenkinson.”
At his desk, Reineke, the only one Jenkinson had told about the possible promotion, shot both fists in the air, and shouted, “Yes!”
“No shit?” Jenkinson murmured. “Son of a gun.”
He got backslaps, arm punches, congratulations as Whitney held out a hand. “Congratulations, Detective Sergeant. Well earned.”
“Thank you, sir. Jesus, guys, give a DS some room. I wouldn’t’ve taken the exam if you hadn’t talked me into it, boss. I appreciate the backup.”
“Anytime, anywhere. Five minutes to act like lunatics.” She raised her voice over the din. “Five. Then back to the work the city pays you to do. Peabody, get me those names.”
