Obsessed, p.9
Obsessed, page 9
“Everyone makes mistakes. You explained your reasoning quite well. I was trying to solve the mystery of why no charges were filed and now you did that for me. There’s nothing you did or said that was wrong. You don’t need to feel bad or guilty about one thing.”
“Will I get in trouble for accepting the money?”
“No.”
“Will I have to testify against Kyle for paying me off?”
“I wouldn’t want to put you in that position. I just needed to know the details.”
We spoke for a few more minutes. I was impressed with her poise and intelligence. As she spoke, she reminded me of how Estella Abreu’s family spoke about her. Smart, articulate, beautiful.
My biggest conclusion from talking with Celia Cartwright was that Kyle Banning’s family must have some serious cash. Paying someone twenty thousand dollars not to file a misdemeanor battery seemed like overkill.
My other takeaway was that if Kyle Banning thought he could get away with anything, there was no telling what he would try to get away with.
Chapter 35
I HAVE, OVER the years, been accused of rushing leads I like. I prefer to think of it as being efficient and not wasting time. I pride myself on being fair and impartial in my investigations. That doesn’t mean I can’t feel sorrow for the loss suffered by a family. It doesn’t mean I don’t feel anger at the way senseless violence can shatter families.
I needed to keep an open mind on this homicide. Just because I had a suspect fall into my lap for one victim, Estella Abreu, didn’t mean he was good for her death, or that of Suzanne Morton or Emma Schrade. There was still a lot of information to gather and evidence to evaluate.
That’s why it was tough to justify calling Terri Hernandez to see if she’d join me in a surveillance of Kyle Banning. This was a delicate situation. If I was too obvious, Banning could try to hide any evidence and come up with alibis. The family would no doubt hire big-time criminal defense attorneys who would tie up every element in court before we found out any information at all.
Terri answered on the first ring.
I used a cheerful voice to say, “How would you feel about doing some surveillance this afternoon and this evening on a suspect?”
“A suspect in our case?”
“Of course a suspect in our case.” I explained to her everything I had learned so far about Banning.
“You just assumed I didn’t have a date or anything going on tonight?”
“I’m sorry. Do you have plans?”
“No, but it would be nice if you assumed that I did.”
I said, “Really, I can find someone else.”
“Not unless you want your face to look like a Picasso painting.”
An hour later, Terri met me in lower Manhattan. She got right to the point. “What’s our plan of attack?”
“I was thinking we start at his office and see where he goes. The problem is, some of the financial people stay kind of late. This is a tough one. It’s not like a surveillance where we can hide in a crowd. This guy lives at a different altitude than most people.”
“I can see if I can get into the building. Maybe poke around a few places. At least see if he’s definitely inside.”
I thought about Terri’s offer. Perhaps I should’ve figured this out before I’d bothered her. I just wasn’t sure what else to do. We talked about it for a few more minutes. Then I got a text.
I looked down at my phone. It was from Ronald Higdon, Esquire, thanking me for squaring everything with Detective Matthews of the First Precinct. The end of the text had a key piece of information. It read: Someone told me your suspect hangs out at a bar in lower Manhattan called Rain.
I chuckled out loud.
Terri said, “What’s so funny?”
“Informants. Mine just gave me an idea for a plan. But it shows he was holding information back the last time we talked.”
Terri said, “They always hold something back to negotiate with later.”
I nodded. “I don’t know why that’s so hard to remember.”
“So what’s our new plan?”
I looked at her, smiled, and said, “I don’t think you’re gonna like my idea.”
Terri gave me one of her flat stares and said, “I rarely do.”
Chapter 36
I THOUGHT MY plan had flair and creativity. I explained it to Terri. From her expression, she didn’t agree with my assessment.
She took a step back, put her hands on her hips, cocked her head, and stared at me. Then, after a couple of seconds, she said, “You think I can walk into a bar filled with super-slick, well-educated financial people and just fit in? Especially while I’m wearing cargo pants and a Yankees sweatshirt? Do I have that right, Mike?”
“Your problem is self-confidence. You can still be a badass cop and beautiful.”
“You sound exactly like my father.”
“Thank you. I’ve always found Ramon to be very intelligent.”
“Seriously, those guys will be dressed in thousand-dollar suits. What can I do, put an NYPD raid jacket on to hide my sweatshirt?” Then she straightened up and held one finger in the air, telling me to hang on.
Terri slipped her phone out of her front pocket. She stepped away from me and made a quick call. After ending the call, she walked past me and said, “I’ll meet you a block north of Rain in an hour. I want no funny comments or compliments about how I look. And you can tell no one that we tried this.”
Terri and I were rarely serious with each other. I wasn’t even sure about this moment. To be on the safe side, I silently nodded my assent and watched her pull away in her city-issued Ford Explorer.
One hour and three minutes later, I was standing on the corner of Fulton and Nassau Streets. I’d already walked past Rain. It had a healthy crowd that was growing by the minute. Terri had overestimated how well the clientele would be dressed. It was clearly a mix of financial people, but tourists and others were there as well. It looked like a high-end martini bar, with a sports bar element.
Like most cops, I notice people. I look at faces and pay attention to details. Today, I was probably more focused on the bar down the street. At least that’s the excuse I’m using for not noticing Terri’s approach until she walked right up to me.
It was tough not to say, Wow. Luckily, I remembered her admonishment to withhold all comments, and Terri kept a scowl on her face to ensure I didn’t open my mouth. She wore a dark blue cocktail dress and carried a small black clutch with pearls around the clasp. Her hair was brushed straight down her back. Most surprising was the red lipstick and dark eyeliner. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Terri wear makeup.
I carefully said, “How did you pull that off so quickly?”
“My cousin lives on Mulberry Street near the Fifth Precinct. We always share clothes when we go out. She works at a salon in Midtown. She’s the one who did my makeup. She also insisted I brush out my hair and not leave it in a ponytail.”
Terri bit her lower lip like she was thinking about something. Then she said, “You may make one comment and one comment only.”
“You look fantastic.”
“Good choice. Let’s get this shit done.”
I said, “How do you want to do it? Wait till we see him go in? Wait inside? Split up and I’ll tell you if he’s coming down the block?”
“This could be a couple of nights of surveillance unless we get lucky.”
I thought about that. I said, “If it goes past tonight, I’ll get us help in the form of a surveillance team.”
“I’m not doing your crazy plan in front of a surveillance team.”
I figured I’d worry about that when and if the time came. I was trying to seize the initiative.
Finally, I said, “Let’s wait inside and give it a couple of hours. If he doesn’t show, we’ll make up another plan.”
Terri had a little grin.
I said, “What is it?”
She quickly glanced down the block. “Isn’t that our man?”
I stared as Kyle Banning approached the bar from the other end of the block. We were in business.
Chapter 37
I WALKED INTO Rain a few minutes before Terri. She knew to come through the door and look for me. I intended to find a seat near Kyle Banning. Any kind of close surveillance like this had a boatload of things that could go wrong. I was hoping to identify and mitigate any of those problems.
I scanned the place. It was about what I expected. Kind of loud with a fraternity-house feel. A few tourists sprinkled in with a lot of young guys with too much money.
A long bar with high tops on the other wall. The whole place couldn’t have been thirty feet wide. The narrow space gave it the feel of being popular when, in fact, it looked crowded because it just wasn’t that big.
Behind the bar was a Tito’s Vodka–branded mirror flanked by four TVs high on the wall. Two TVs were tuned to ESPN channels and two were on financial channels. I noticed closed-captioning on CNBC and the Fox Business Network. This place was definitely catering to their clientele.
I spotted Kyle Banning at the bar, talking to a pretty bartender with long blond hair she wore in a ponytail draped over her shoulder. It was clear he was a regular. I casually took a stool one seat away from him. It wasn’t too close, and he didn’t look in my direction.
Many of the stools at the bar were available. Most people gathered around the tables by the opposite wall. Maybe there were some tribal gatherings of the different financial houses. I wondered where Banning’s buddies were.
I noticed a couple of the guys at the bar turn to stare at the front door for a moment. I followed their gaze and was not surprised to see Terri Hernandez. She looked even better in the soft light of the bar. She had a certain expression I’d never seen on her. It was hard to describe. Maybe because her usual expression was annoyance verging on violence. Now she had a pleasant smile, and her dark eyes scanned the room. She casually walked toward the bar and sat down on the stool to my right, between Banning and me.
At nearly the same time, a heavyset young man in a suit plopped down on the stool to the left of me. He looked in my direction but deduced I wasn’t in the financial business, so he didn’t bother to acknowledge me.
The bartender finally came over and I ordered a beer. After she slid my beer in front of me, I was surprised to hear Terri order Old Forester bourbon, straight up.
I didn’t know if it was a ploy or if bourbon was Terri’s usual drink of choice. Either way, it caught Kyle Banning’s attention. If I concentrated, I could hear their conversation over the din of stockbrokers blowing off steam. Mostly small talk, but I could tell Banning had nice manners. He introduced himself and asked Terri a few questions about where she worked and lived.
Terri had a set backstory for short undercover roles like this. She worked in the hospitality industry for a website that recommended hotels in the city. It was a tough story to pin down or confirm. I noticed she didn’t give a last name either. Even though Banning used his full name, she just said, “Hi, I’m Terri.”
They seemed to be getting along, and I had full faith that Terri would ask all the right questions. Banning never looked past her or to his other side. A classic narcissistic move. No one else in the world existed.
Terri started slowly working the questions around to how many times Banning had come to this bar this week.
I looked up at the mirror with the Tito’s logo and saw Banning flash a charming smile as he said, “I usually go out in lower Manhattan. I know a lot of the financial people. They’re fun to hang out with.”
Terri said, “I came in here Monday night. I don’t remember seeing you.”
Suddenly a commotion came up from the back of the bar. Everyone looked over their shoulders to see a group of well-dressed young men cheering a soccer match from England on the TV nearest them. It felt like soccer had replaced football among males under thirty these days—maybe because most of them played soccer growing up, not football.
I wanted to hear Banning’s response to Terri’s question.
Then someone slipped onto the stool on the other side of the man to my left. I glanced up at the mirror again and froze.
I knew the man who’d just sat down. I also knew why he was here. My right hand instinctively slid off the bar and into my lap. Just in case I needed to draw my duty weapon.
Chapter 38
SOMETIMES YOU HAVE to wonder about fate or coincidence or whatever you want to call it. Here I was, happy to be making some progress on a homicide case with an unusual investigative technique. Terri and I had the whole situation well in hand.
Then I looked up and saw Robert Hatcher sit down at the bar.
I tensed, recognizing him, then put my hand on my forehead and looked down like I was reading my phone. It had been a few years, but I was pretty sure Hatcher would recognize me. I’d helped on his arrest for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. He was a low-level drug dealer with some kind of anger management issue. He’d shot at least four customers a few years ago, but we could only prove one case—a guy he’d shot in the face near the Fulton Street fish market. The victim had been lucky, and the bullet passed through his cheek. He’d lost a few teeth and about a third of his tongue, but he’d survived.
It was clear that the sixteen months Hatcher had spent in Attica hadn’t done much to rehabilitate him. In the mere seconds he’d been sitting to my left, he had already slipped the tubby guy next to him a small envelope. I watched with my peripheral vision as the man slid some cash back to Hatcher. He wasn’t even subtle. He just shoved the cash across the varnished wooden bar.
I knew Hatcher would have a gun on him. What a great opportunity to get a dangerous criminal off the street. But I couldn’t act. At least not at the moment. It would do nothing to help the homicide investigation I was actually working on. It may not have been Sophie’s Choice, but it was still a difficult decision.
I was still trying to eavesdrop on Kyle Banning and Terri’s conversation, but now I was also trying to watch the pair on my left. If nothing else, I could text someone about what I just saw. Maybe we could get some help here quickly.
When I glanced up in the mirror again, I locked eyes with Robert Hatcher. It was clear he recognized me.
I almost nudged Terri. No matter what happened, I couldn’t let this situation get out of hand. We were in a crowded bar in Manhattan.
The tubby businessman sitting between me and Hatcher realized there was an issue. His hands started to shake. He used a napkin on the bar to wipe his face. Pieces of the napkin stuck to his cheeks and chin and made it look like he had whitehead acne. He scooted his stool backward and made a beeline for the front door.
That left Hatcher and me staring at each other across an open space. I felt like an Old West gunfighter in a showdown. I tried to read the emotions on his face. I got nothing.
My pulse increased and my hearing became sharper. At least that’s how it feels while I’m under stress. This was going to be a close encounter no matter what happened.
Then Robert Hatcher turned on his stool to face me.
This was it.
Chapter 39
ROBERT HATCHER KEPT both of his hands on the bar even as he faced me. He looked like every felon I’d ever pulled over as a patrol officer. They know to keep their hands on the steering wheel or stick them out the driver’s window so the approaching cop can see their hands are empty.
Hatcher didn’t say a word. He slowly took his hands off the bar and held them in front of him. He didn’t put them in the air because that would attract attention and look like he was being robbed.
Then he carefully backed away from me. About halfway to the front door he turned, then walked quickly until he disappeared outside.
I considered calling someone, hoping to catch him with some dope and a gun on him. But I realized I couldn’t solve all the city’s problems in one evening. I was relieved things had played out the way they did.
I focused back on Terri and Kyle Banning to my right. It didn’t sound like Banning had answered any questions. Terri was going in another direction now. She kept a playful voice, but I knew her well enough to realize she was coming up with a new question as she spoke. Maybe something that would get this guy talking.
Terri and I had discussed the possibility of having Banning follow her to a coffee shop on the corner. I’d reluctantly agreed that I could follow them by myself a few doors down to the mom-and-pop coffee shop called The Free-Trade Shop. I sort of liked the subtle dig at Starbucks.
Now Terri was using that option. I heard her say, “Want to go someplace a little quieter? Maybe the coffee shop down the street?”
There was a pause. I couldn’t believe how interested I was in hearing his response.
Banning turned in his seat to face her. He had a sincere look on his face. He said, “Maybe we could meet at a hotel later. But I have a certain reputation among these guys. And no offense, but you are a couple of years older than the women they usually see me with. It may sound harsh, but reputation is everything in the financial industry.”
It was one of the dumbest, rudest comments I think I had ever heard. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly until I glanced down and saw Terri flexing her hand into a fist. Part of me wanted to see that punch land right on this guy’s smug face. Maybe knock a couple of those perfect teeth crooked.
Instead, Terri did a more elegant thing: she threw what was left of her bourbon into his face. It was the perfect move on several levels. It maintained her undercover persona very nicely and gave her a release. It was clear Banning wasn’t going to say much more in the bar. She had nothing to lose. And it was less awkward than slugging this creep.
I tensed, waiting to see his reaction.
Banning casually pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket. The white hanky even had his initials monogrammed on it. Classy. Banning calmly blotted his face and chest. He kept a very mild expression as he looked up and said, “Does that mean you won’t meet me at the Holiday Inn Express on Water Street?”
