Calling the dead, p.22
Calling the Dead, page 22
“Mine was great, but I bet I can list exactly everything you’ve put in your mouth today.”
“There are so many ways I could respond to that, but I’ll be good and tell you I had to skip lunch because I was working.” At a traffic light Sept stopped next to a police cruiser and waved to the guy driving it. “I mentioned lunch to Nathan, but we were at an autopsy and the poor boy was gagging enough.”
“Anything new and fascinating happen today?”
“I’ll tell you later, as far as the autopsy is concerned, but I had to go see Brandi Parrish again to ask about the new victim. Now I’m on my way to pick up my only witness at any of the crime scenes.”
“We’ll get to Brandi Parrish when I see you and can pinch you if I think any funny business is going on there, but as for the witness, that’s great. I thought you didn’t have any leads.”
A couple of canine units were parked in front of the office when Sept arrived, and she came close to laughing at Keegan’s little jealous streak. “I don’t have many leads, and when I introduce you to my witness later, you’ll see what I mean.”
“Are you off for the rest of the day?”
“I am, but I have to run by my house first and pick up a change of clothes before I come over. Do you have to work tonight?”
“Unfortunately, yes, but if you want, you can come keep me company.”
The offer should have made her cringe, considering how she felt about cooking, but she was looking forward to watching Keegan do what she loved. “What if I sit in your office and work on some things, and then I’ll go home with you from there?”
“And maybe after you’ve finished studying all that gore, you’ll be interested in learning to cook something new.”
“Maybe,” Sept said, and laughed. “I’ll see you in about an hour, so be careful.”
The lobby of the office smelled like dog food, and some clients were sitting with their pets, waiting to be seen. “Sept Savoie. I’m here to pick up a dog I left,” she told the receptionist. The woman buzzed her in and had her wait by her desk. A few minutes later the doctor came out leading Mike on a leash.
“It’s a good thing you were able to leave him so long. I’ve taken the stitches out so you won’t be due back here for a couple of weeks, and as you can see, he’s doing great.”
Mike sat at the doctor’s feet with his tongue hanging out as he seemed to study Sept with an open, friendly face. The spot where he’d been stabbed had been shaved, so the long, thin pink scar was visible. Sept stared back at him and felt bad for the animal that had obviously been talented and dedicated enough to serve a blind person. Those days were probably over.
“He’s still not a hundred percent, since the bastard who did this cut him fairly deep, but we were lucky that the blade went between his ribs and didn’t break anything,” the vet went on.
“If he was a working dog, can I call someone so they can place him again?”
“Only time can prove me wrong, but I think we can consider Mike retired. He probably had a couple good years of service left because of his age, so he’s lucky enough to enjoy his retirement.” The doctor petted Mike under his neck with genuine affection. “He’s a great dog. You should consider keeping him, Detective.”
“My hours would make him miserable, but I’ll find him a good place.” Sept took the leash from him and shook the vet’s hand. “Thanks for patching him up.”
As Sept walked him out, Mike stopped at the door and looked back. She could swear it was his way of saying good-bye. In the car he sat in the backseat and gazed out the window, and all she could hear was his breathing. Hopefully Keegan wasn’t allergic to dogs.
“If only you could sit with a sketch artist and tell him what this asshole looks like, Mike,” she told him as she walked him upstairs to her apartment. “That’d save me a lot of trouble and most probably someone’s life.”
*
After Sept packed a bag, she put Mike back in the car and drove to Keegan’s. She left her stuff in the backseat and shouldered only her bag filled with her case files and held Mike’s leash. The afternoon had turned cloudy and chilly, but she figured she could make it to Blanchard’s on foot before any rain fell.
As they walked, Mike’s training and instincts kicked in as he stopped her from crossing the street until he could check to see if it was safe. How many times had he done that for his late master on their nightly walks before some idiot cut Robin Burns’s life short? When they reached the restaurant, Sept stood at the windows by the kitchen and waited until Keegan noticed them. The first patrons wouldn’t arrive for dinner for a few hours, so she could introduce Keegan to Mike and walk him home after she sat in the garden and reviewed her files.
If Keegan was allergic to dogs, it wasn’t apparent as she knelt next to Mike and gave him a good rubdown, which seemed to make Mike happier. “I take it you like dogs,” Sept said.
“Where’d you get him? He’s beautiful.”
“Mike Burns is my one and only live witness. He was Robin Burns’s guide dog, and I had the vet patch him up. Now I have to find him a new owner.”
Keegan gave Mike a little more attention before she stood and kissed Sept hello. “You don’t have to do that right this second, do you?”
“I thought we could sit out here and work for a while before I walk him back and put him in your yard, if you don’t mind.”
“Honey, you can’t leave him in the yard. He’s used to being inside,” Keegan said as she put her arms around Sept’s waist.
“I wasn’t going to leave him out there alone. I was going to sit with him, since some people don’t like dogs inside.”
“I let you inside, didn’t I? And I didn’t even know if you were housebroken.” Keegan spoke in a teasing voice as she neared Sept. “I’m sure this guy is housebroken, so it’s not a problem.”
“Good to know,” Sept answered drolly, but kissed Keegan again when she tilted her head up.
Since only the kitchen staff was in the restaurant, Keegan led them into her office and closed the door. Sept used the small desk as Mike lay nearby and stared at her. The staff talked and joked as they started the dishes for that night, but Sept tuned them all out as she went through the notes and pictures of every crime scene. She lined up small prints of all five victims and how they were found laid out, and she took her time going down the line.
Sept was no profiler, but something was odd about how different each scene was from the other. The first and the third held the most similarities. The killer had murdered the two men quickly, almost like he was trying to quit smoking and only needed a quick hit to get over the craving. He’d taken his time with Tameka and Frieda, but with Tameka he’d found a deserted spot and completed the process leisurely. Only, according to the religious expert, he’d forgotten the most important aspect of it. With Frieda he’d gone through the ritual completely, but he’d picked a place where he’d been forced to rush the kill before Estella returned to her apartment over the store.
“Either you’re a planning fool who considers every aspect of what needs to be done, or you’re a lucky bastard who’s flying by the seat of his pants and timing has been on your side.” Sept spoke to the pictures and smiled down at Mike when he moved over and put his head on her foot. “Which is it, buddy? Is this guy smart or lucky?”
For a dog he was quiet, but Sept enjoyed his expressive face. She petted him as she continued to go through her papers. At a few minutes before seven everyone in the kitchen stopped and said hello to someone who’d arrived through the kitchen entrance. Sept gazed at the guy standing in the kitchen and her pictures, and something clicked.
The new arrival was a New Orleans police officer who, like so many other businesses in the city, the restaurant had hired as a guard. It was a good opportunity for the guys who did it to earn extra money, and the business benefited because they were trained police and not some idiot pawning himself off as a night watchman.
Donovan, Tameka, Frieda, and the guy in the park had allowed the guy close, so they had to trust that person, even if they didn’t know him.
“He’s dressed like a cop,” Sept said quietly, making Mike sit up. Robin couldn’t see, but that’s why Mike hadn’t reacted when the guy was close. She didn’t know the details of guide-dog training, but she guessed they were taught not to react to the uniform. “You thought he was there to help, didn’t you?” she asked Mike.
The proof was right in front of her. No one in the kitchen had blinked when the guy walked in. Even Keegan had proved it that morning when she hugged her friend hello. Granted, she knew the guy, but most people approached by a uniformed policeman welcomed him into their personal space, or at least let him close enough to end up with a knife through the heart.
“Fuck,” she said in disgust. “If that’s true, he’ll be that much harder to find.” The city was full of cops and national guardsmen from all over the United States. “Whatever kind of uniform it was, that’s what got this guy close enough,” she said to Mike and the top of the desk.
“Ready to take a break?” Keegan asked.
Sept scooped the pictures up and put them back in the folder. She didn’t want to give Keegan nightmares. “I was getting ready to come talk to you.”
Keegan put down a bowl with rice, vegetables, and barely cooked veal for Mike. “I thought I’d feed you two before I get crazy in there.” She put the night’s fish special down for Sept next.
“Good to see the dog rates before me.”
“I’m sure in the end he’ll follow directions better than you do,” Keegan told her before she bent down and kissed her.
“Can I ask you a few questions?”
“As long as I can walk out of here not blushing, you sure can,” Keegan said as she sat on the edge of the desk close to Sept.
“Those will come later, don’t worry about that,” Sept told her, and put her hand on Keegan’s knee. “My questions actually have to do with work.”
“Anything I can do to help catch Donovan’s killer is important to me. What do you want to know?”
“The night that happened, did you have a policeman on duty?” The policeman who had sparked Sept’s idea was standing close to one of the stations with a plate in his hand, talking to some of the staff.
“Al was Jacqueline’s idea when we reopened after the storm. He works from opening until closing and mostly stands out front to give people a sense of security. Do you think he had something to do with this?” Keegan put her hand over Sept’s.
“No. I know Al from some of my cases, but seeing him out there gave me an idea.”
“Do you want to share it?”
“We’ll discuss it tonight when we’re alone. Right now I want to talk to Al before he goes on the clock for you.”
“You can do that after you eat. I’m sure having two of you out there won’t throw people into a panic.” Keegan moved her plate closer and cut off a piece of the fish and fed it to her.
“Don’t tell my mom, but that’s better than hers,” Sept said when she swallowed, which earned her another kiss.
“Your secrets are safe with me, and you’re sweet.”
“This is delicious, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.” Sept ate another piece and pointed to Mike, who was walking his bowl across the room to make sure he got every bit. “I’ll pick up some dog food tomorrow.”
“I’ll take care of that. You concentrate on work, which is more important than shopping.” Keegan laughed when Mike jumped up and put his paws on her thighs as if wanting to be petted. “What are you going to do with him?”
“See if someone at the precinct’s in the market for a new dog. If not, maybe one of my brothers will take him.”
“Before I say this, let me preface it by saying that you don’t have to worry about the U-Haul. What if I keep him, and since you’ll be around a lot more, you can spend time with him when you’re at my place?”
“Does this mean you want to wear my high-school ring?” Sept asked as she put the last piece of fish in her mouth.
“Do you even know where your high-school ring is?”
“You’ll have to wait and find out. Right now I want to talk to your rent-a-cop.” When the dog dropped down close to Keegan’s feet, Sept stood up and kissed her. “You want to stay here or come with me?” Sept asked Mike. The sound of her voice prompted him to lie down and stare up at her, his head on Keegan’s feet.
“Does this mean we can keep him?” Keegan asked.
“If he wants to be kept, then I don’t see why not. Though he acts like if I tried to ship him off somewhere he might bite me in the ass.”
“You staying out with Al all night?”
Sept shook her head and put her files back in her bag before she left the room. She trusted Keegan, but didn’t want someone else to get an unforgettable shock.
The restaurant patrolman was keeping visible in front of the restaurant, tipping his hat at the patrons as they arrived. Sept recognized Al since he had done a brief stint in the French Quarter. A few years from retirement, he was one of those guys who obviously loved putting on the uniform every day; he was always immaculate.
“Hey, Al, they feeding you good in there?” Sept asked, and knocked her knuckles on the side of the building.
“Best gig in town for an old bachelor like me. How you doing, Sept? Your mom and dad making out okay?” Al held his hand out and shook hers with a strong grip.
“Living in a small trailer together, they’re learning all kinds of stuff about each other. I don’t mean to bother you while you’re working, but can I ask you a few questions?”
“You still investigating Donovan’s murder?” Al shook his head and propped himself against one of the columns that lined the front of the building. “Hell of a nice guy, that one.”
“Were you here that night working?”
“I was here until ten. My commander had scheduled me for five the next morning, and I wanted to get a few hours’ sleep before I went out on patrol. I didn’t find out about Donovan until the next morning, when I heard about it on the radio.”
Sept watched him as he answered, and from her experience he was telling the truth. “You were here that morning? I don’t remember seeing you.”
“They had me driving around the east. People were looting some of the houses where folks have tried to come back and rebuild, so there was a push to put more people on the streets. I volunteered to help, so I couldn’t get out of it. You know how shitty things have been on the street.”
“And getting shittier by the day, my friend. Did you see anyone hanging out around here or doing some drive-bys lately?”
Al smiled and gave a short wave to a group handing their car keys over to the valet. “It’s amazing how many regulars the girls have here. I’ve learned the faces of lot of these people, but none jump out as strange.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Sept, then lit his and took a deep drag before he continued. “I’ve stayed on some nights when Donovan was in there doing his experiments, as he called them. He was an interesting fella who had a fucked-up life before he started working for the Blanchards.”
“Fucked up how?”
“Not every parent is accepting of their children’s choices as yours and Mrs. B., Sept. Donovan told me his folks threw him out when he was sixteen and never came looking for him with a case of remorse. I wonder if they even know he’s dead.” Al flicked his ashes into a glass ashtray. “On nights I didn’t have to be anywhere early the next day, I’d stay and talk to him. Maybe if I’d been here that wouldn’t have happened.”
“You know better than to dwell on what ifs, Al.” Sept looked down the street in both directions to see how many of the windows were lit. Maybe they’d missed a witness, but she saw only the same places she and Nathan had canvassed. “Can I ask you one last thing, and it stays with us?”
“Ask away. You don’t have to worry about me shooting it up the flagpole.”
“Standing out here, have you ever seen another patrolman or a regular unit who does some drive-bys? That might strike you as strange, but I really need to know.”
“Just the regular guys assigned to the neighborhood. They cruise by, but I wouldn’t say it’s a nightly thing. You looking for more witnesses or something?”
“Nah, I had an idea, but you make me think I’m on the wrong road. Thanks for your help, man.” She handed him one of her cards and shook his hand again. “My cell’s on there if you think of anything else.”
“Will do, and if you need to talk to me here’s my number.” Al took a pad from his front pocket and wrote his number on a blank sheet and tore it out.
Sept headed back inside but didn’t want to go through the restaurant, so she walked to the side to make her way around to the kitchen door out back. Unless Al was some master killer as well as an accomplished liar, he wasn’t the missing piece to her theory.
Inside, she watched as Keegan worked, running her kitchen like a machine with every part functioning perfectly. Mike hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor, and Sept spent some time petting him, being careful to stay away from the tender spot where he’d been stabbed. For a wounded dog, Mike was the most docile animal Sept had ever been around.
“Five dead people, and a city full of cops and military personnel. If I’m right, this shouldn’t be hard at all,” she said, and laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
At a little after ten, the kitchen slowed down and Keegan walked back into the office with the night’s numbers. She dropped everything into the top drawer of her desk and held her hand out to Sept. “Take me home. If you’re still hungry I’ll make you something when we get there, but right now I want to go.”
“Why? You looked like you were having fun in there.”
“It only takes one person who thinks food needs to be the consistency of shoe leather to be safe enough to eat to sap the fun out of the night. Every once in a while we get someone who sends stuff back so often you want to ask them to go home and cook it themselves, since we obviously don’t know what we’re doing.”
