Good dog bad cop, p.1
Good Dog, Bad Cop, page 1
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It had been a while since Danny Avery was on anything resembling a stakeout.
Of course, this could never be classified as a normal stakeout. No one else in the Paterson Police Department knew where he was or what he was doing; Avery was working this one independently.
At some point they would find out, but by then the operation would be over.
Of course, if it wasn’t successful, they’d never hear about it. Because in that case he sure as hell would not be filing a report about it.
Fortunately, this action tonight was not going to last long—two hours at most. Then Avery would follow his subject, approach him when he was alone, and drop the hammer on him.
He was very much looking forward to that.
Avery was well positioned on the darkened street, far enough away that he could not be seen, but absolutely in a place where he could not miss seeing the target when he appeared. Avery was pretty confident that no one had seen him, certainly not the people he was after.
He could hear their conversation through the planted wire, and it was going exactly as he hoped. He was recording it on his phone and would ultimately make good use of that audio.
But for the moment Avery would have to wait, anxiously, because this night would be the night it would all start to come together, one way or the other. It had taken a lot of time, and the next two hours would seem like no time at all by comparison.
Avery’s reputation, and his future in the department, were on the line, and this would change the trajectory of both for the better.
Two hours.
Danny Avery never heard the noise or felt the impact. The back of his head exploded, sending blood and brain matter all across the dashboard and the front windshield, which shattered when the bullet reached it.
His assailant reached into the car, grabbed Avery’s cell phone from the dash, and fled into the night, unseen.
The idea of people getting away with murder pisses me off, which is why the past two days have been so infuriating.
My name is Corey Douglas, and along with my partners Laurie Collins and Marcus Clark, we call ourselves the K Team. That name is in honor of the fourth member of our squad, Simon Garfunkel, the German shepherd who retired from the Paterson Police Department when I did.
Naming our group was Laurie’s idea, and I reluctantly went along. I pointed out that we are private investigators, not a bowling team. But I gave in because there’s no harm in a name, so it just wasn’t a big deal. I would certainly have drawn the line at wearing uniforms if anyone had suggested it.
Even though we are private investigators, we’ve recently been at least partially on the public payroll. That’s because Pete Stanton, the captain in charge of the Homicide Division of the Paterson PD, has hired us to investigate cold cases.
Pete had explained that financial restrictions were preventing him from hiring new cops, but that a budget anomaly provided funds for hiring consultants. He figured if he didn’t spend the money, he wouldn’t get credit for being frugal. The bureaucrats would just take back the money.
So we are the chosen consultants … well-paid chosen consultants at that. I’m making three times what I made in my days on the force, overtime included. Best of all, I don’t have to punch a clock, and nobody is looking over my shoulder.
Pete has given us general freedom to decide which cold cases we’re interested in tackling, though he has to sign off on them. So for the last two days here at the station we’ve been going through the files he’s provided, which have been among the most unpleasant days I can remember.
As an ex-cop, I am aware of the awful things that people can do to each other, and how often they do them. So going through these cases, which consist of one unsolved murder after another, does not shock or enlighten me.
But it does depress me, and it certainly angers me, since each case represents at least one person that has literally gotten away with murder. Unless the killers have been convicted of another crime and put away, they are living among us, going about their business after having deprived someone else of their very life.
The friends and family of those victims have never gotten any kind of closure, which must drive them crazy.
It sure bugs the hell out of me.
There are few of these cases that I wouldn’t want to tackle; I’d like to systematically put every one of these assholes behind bars. But we have to do it one at a time, and the one I am most interested in is not even in the files Pete provided.
Laurie, Marcus, and I had discussed this when Pete first talked to us about taking on the cold cases. We agreed that if any one of us had a deep personal interest in a case, then the others would defer and let that person choose.
I have such an interest, and since we’re all in Pete’s office about to tell him our choice, he’s about to hear it. But he’s not going to like it.
“Jimmy Dietrich and Susan Avery,” I say.
The look on Pete’s face is completely predictable; it’s as if he’s just taken a sip of a horseshit smoothie. “Don’t go there.”
“That’s our pick. Or at least it’s my pick, and my partners are willing to indulge me.”
“We’re good that way,” Laurie says.
Pete shakes his head. “It wasn’t even in the case files I gave you.”
“We noticed that,” I say. “Obviously an oversight by you. But the Jimmy Dietrich, Susan Avery case is still our choice.”
Pete is getting frustrated. “As you may remember, the idea of this arrangement is for you to find out who committed crimes that are currently unsolved.”
Laurie jumps in again. “This case fits that directive, Pete, especially the Susan Avery piece. There’s no question that she was murdered, and no one has been officially identified as her killer.”
“You know damn well why that is,” he says. “If you were to get into this, the strong possibility is that you would not like what you find, if you find anything at all.”
I nod. “Maybe. Or maybe not. We won’t know until we know.”
“So if that’s the way it turns out, if you prove what happened, who will be better off for it?”
“We’ll know the truth, Pete,” I say. “That will have to be good enough.”
Pete shakes his head. “I’m not convinced. Besides, the case is what … a year and a half old? It hasn’t had time to turn cold. It’s lukewarm.”
“Have you had people working it lately?”
“You know I haven’t.”
“Then it’s cold,” I say.
He remains obviously unconvinced. “I’ll have to think about it. What’s your second choice?”
“We don’t have a second choice, Pete,” Laurie says.
I look at Laurie, and she nods her silent agreement at what she knows I’m going to say next.
“How about if we make it a two-for-one?” We knew how this conversation would go, so we held this out as a bargaining chip to close the deal.
“I’m listening.” Pete also knows full well where this is going.
“We’ll look into Danny Avery as well.”
Pete smiles. “Now you’re talking.”
Judges and juries are supposed to be completely impartial; the system falls apart if they are not.
But while they are the last line of defense against bias, the entire process starts with, and depends on, the investigating detective. Detectives must have no predispositions whatsoever; they must rigidly follow the facts wherever they lead. If they don’t, and they arrest the wrong person, they might put an innocent man away. And maybe just as bad, the real criminal will never be found and punished.
When it comes to finding out what happened to Jimmy Dietrich, Susan Avery, and Danny Avery, I am going to fail that test miserably. I will follow the evidence, but I will be biased every step of the way. Fortunately Laurie and Marcus will know that and will rein me in as best they can.
Right now I’m discussing this with Dani Kendall. We’re at Patsy’s, the best pizza place in both Paterson, New Jersey, and on planet Earth. Having grown up in Teaneck, Dani had never been to Patsy’s until I took her when we started dating. Now she can’t get enough of it, one of many reasons I am crazy about her.
“So you’re biased … so what?” she says, after I explain the situation to her. “That just makes you human.”
“Cops aren’t supposed to be biased; it’s not part of the job description. And they definitely aren’t supposed to be human.”
“Bullshit. Everybody is biased. The trick is to overcome it and be fair and accurate. You’ve been doing that your whole life … when you were officially a cop, and ever since. I don’t think you could stop if you tried.”
“How did y
“By knowing everything. Actually, I don’t know everything; I couldn’t tune a carburetor if you gave me two years and a YouTube video. But I do know you. You’ll follow the facts; it’s what you do.”
I chew on some pizza while thinking about what she’s just said. Pizza is definitely good thinking food. “I do not believe Jimmy killed anyone, including himself.”
“Then prove it. Or find out you were wrong. Either one is better than not knowing.”
“In theory that’s correct. But in real life, not knowing would be preferable to finding out that Jimmy committed a murder-suicide. I would have troubling handling that.”
She points to the last piece of pizza on the tray. “You going to eat that?” As she says it, she reaches for the piece and takes a bite out of it.
“Apparently not. I was going to suggest we share it.”
She smiles, finishes chewing. “You hesitated. You can’t hesitate in the pizza business.”
I take a few moments to reflect on the state of my relationship with Dani. I have only started to do self-reflection since meeting her; prior to that, the last time I attempted it was when I was in high school and tried to figure out why Rita Barone wouldn’t go to the prom with me. I couldn’t come up with anything.
When I invited her, she had said, “Not on a bet, Corey,” which was fairly disconcerting. It’s actually still disconcerting, which is why I haven’t reflected on it since.
But my current situation is unlike anything I have ever before experienced. Until Dani, most of my relationships lasted about an hour and a half, give or take forty-five minutes. I liked it that way, and I had no intention of changing.
But Dani tricked me by being funny, smart, beautiful, and independent. It was diabolical, and it has left me thinking about the M-word.
It’s a measure of my maturity in relationships that even in my own mind I call it the M-word. I know that two adults who are in love and want to spend the rest of their lives together often naturally decide to M, but I’m not yet at the point where I can say the entire word.
I wish I had never started this reflection stuff because it’s made me realize that Dani might not want to M me if I asked. I mean, she has never brought it up, not once. Never even hinted at it. Is that normal for a woman who wants to get M … ed? I think not.
I guess I could ask Laurie what she thinks, since she and Dani have become good friends, but that doesn’t seem mature. It would feel like I was asking her to pass Dani a note in homeroom. I’ve talked about it with Simon Garfunkel, but he’s absolutely no help. He didn’t even wag his tail when I brought it up.
Another reason I don’t want to talk about it with Laurie is because then it would be out there, an open subject that would have to be dealt with one way or the other. As long as the idea resides solely in my warped brain, it feels like I preserve my options.
But what if I don’t have any options? What if Dani just isn’t interested in M? I don’t handle rejection well, which is why I almost never put myself in a position to get rejected. As a cop I often put myself in a position to get killed, but emotional rejection? Never.
I’m not about to start now, so that’s it … end of discussion, end of reflection. M is not for me.
“You’ve gotten suddenly quiet,” Dani says.
“I’m just bitter that you took the last piece of pizza.” No way I’m going to tell her the truth; the M-word is not coming out of my mouth.
It won’t even be in my mind for long anyway. There is a case to focus on, and a mentor and friend to exonerate.
I’ve got a bias to justify.
“Pete knew we’d take both cases,” I say. “He played us while we were playing him.”
Laurie nods. “And we all got what we want. A win-win.”
Laurie, Marcus, and I are meeting to discuss how we are going to tackle our assignment. We do this every time we start a case, though whatever strategy we come up with quickly gets changed as soon as we begin.
Investigations are like that. It reminds me of Mike Tyson’s comment that everyone he fought came into the ring with a plan that lasted until they got punched in the mouth.
We’re at Laurie’s house, which has become our de facto office. It’s not that we’re too cheap to rent space, though not having to is a definite plus. It’s more that in many cases we’re working for Laurie’s husband, Andy Carpenter, who is a defense attorney. And even though he maintains an office downtown, he generally likes to work out of his house, where his wife, son, and dogs reside.
Since Andy tries his best to avoid taking on clients, he’s usually around the house. Laurie frequently takes advantage of this by sending him out to get us pizza, sandwiches, and other sustenance, and he grumbles but ultimately does it. The next time we reimburse him will be the first.
Another benefit of being here is that the fourth member of our team, Simon Garfunkel, likes Andy and Laurie’s three dogs, especially their golden retriever, Tara. There is also no shortage of biscuits here, and Simon is definitely partial to biscuits.
Since we were both cops in the Paterson Police Department, Laurie and I are familiar with the murders of Danny Avery, Susan Avery, and Jimmy Dietrich. I think of Jimmy’s death as a murder because I do not think he could have committed suicide.
That’s my bias and I’m sticking to it.
Marcus, not having been in the department, is not as aware of the details of the case as we are. We’ll be getting copies of the murder books, so he’ll learn all there is to know, but we want to bring him up to speed now.
“Danny Avery was a detective that I worked with briefly,” Laurie says. “You may have heard of him; there was quite a bit of publicity when he shot and killed a suspect in a domestic violence incident. He took a lot of heat for it.”
Marcus nods slightly; at least I think he’s nodding, he could be dozing off. Talking and listening are not Marcus’s favorite pastimes, which is deceptive, because he is one of the smartest people I know.
But he’s at his best in situations that call for violence. Marcus is outstanding at it; if violence was on the SATs, Harvard would have been his safety school.
Laurie continues, “Avery was shot and killed, execution-style, while sitting in his car on Chamberlain Avenue. He was off duty, and to my knowledge it’s unclear why he was there, and no suspect was ever identified. It was about four months after the domestic violence incident.”
“Jimmy Dietrich wasn’t the detective on the case,” I say, “but the cops who did handle it got nowhere. I know it bothered Jimmy a lot; he knew Danny and his wife, Susan, very well. And to see a cop gunned down like that…”
A nod from Marcus; he’s awake.
I continue, “Then Jimmy retired, and it didn’t go well. He couldn’t handle being away from the job, his marriage went south, and the word was he was drinking too much. He tried to come back to the department, but he was told it was against policy.
“Then one day they found Jimmy and Susan Avery dead on Jimmy’s boat, floating in the ocean outside of Long Island Sound. She was shot at short range; he took the bullet in the head, point-blank. The coroner said she couldn’t classify it with any certainty. It was either a double murder or a murder-suicide, but without any way to be sure, it was left open.”
Laurie chimes in, “But most people thought it was murder-suicide, and the department was criticized for not deciding one way or the other. They were thought to be protecting their own, which might well be true.”
“Or not,” I say.
She nods, somewhat grudgingly. “Or not.” Then, “So that’s the basic setup; obviously we’ll learn a lot more when we see the investigative reports. So where do we start?”
“Everywhere,” I say. “We could be dealing with two entirely different cases; at this point there is no specific evidence linking Danny Avery’s murder with the others. But they obviously could be connected, and I think they are. So we look at the whole package and see if there is a link.”
Laurie nods. “And if not, we solve them separately.”
“I’ll take the lead on the Jimmy Dietrich–Susan Avery side. I know most of the players in Jimmy’s life; they’ll be more likely to open up to me.”
