Carol O’Connell - Crime School

Riker was on his way through the door, saying, ‘I’ll tell the boss it’s a wrap.’

And Mallory continued, ‘He said his mother reached for the frying pan and dropped it. Then she tripped and fell. That’s when she hit her head on the stove. She was out cold, but you thought she was shamming. You pulled her through a puddle of grease, and then you rolled her on her back.’

Were Geldorf s eyes a little wider? Yes.

‘She was coming to,’ said Mallory. ‘Were you afraid she’d scream? Is that why you wrapped your hands around her throat and crushed the life out of her?’

Jack Coffey was standing in the doorway. ‘Is that when you panicked, old man?’ He walked into the room and tossed a pad of paper to Mallory. ‘That’s Loman’s statement.’

Geldorf craned his neck to read the upside-down lines of longhand on the top sheet. ‘Loman? The other – ’

‘Alan Parris’s ex-partner.’ Riker strolled into the room, smiling. ‘He rolled over on you, Lars. He claims you tried to bury this case, concealing evidence and – ’

‘I was protecting my evidence!’

‘Well, it’s your word against his.’ Mallory looked up from her reading. ‘And he’s a lieutenant.’ Though Loman’s statement was worthless, only repeating Geldorf s own story of misleading reporters, she said, ‘And that’s it. We’re done.’

Coffey cleared the evidence from the desk, sweeping it into the carton, packing up the debris of the day. The lieutenant paused to hand her a slip of paper. ‘I don’t recognize this witness.’

‘That’s the landlady’s granddaughter, Alice White. She saw a man steal the rope and duct tape out of the handyman’s tool chest.’ Another lie, another nail. ‘She’s on the way in for a photo ID.’ Mallory picked up the photograph of Geldorf and casually dropped it into the box. ‘She’ll testify that Natalie’s son was in that apartment for two days. Just his dead mother for company – and the flies, the roaches. No wonder that little boy went psycho.’ In an echo of Susan Qualen, she said, ‘Who do you call when a cop kills your mother? The cops?’ She turned to Geldorf ‘He told us the buzz of the flies was deafening, but he was only six years old. I guess the noise got louder as he got older.’

‘You have the right to remain silent,’ said Riker, pulling out his Miranda card, preparing for the last formality that would allow their suspect to call for a lawyer.

They were cutting the timing very fine.

Mallory snatched the card away from her partner and handed it to Geldorf. ‘Look, it’s been a long night. You know all the words. Just sign the damn thing, okay?’ She held out the pen, and Geldorf accepted it like thousands of felons before him. So natural to take an object when it’s offered. But now he only stared at the card.

Planning to lawyer up, old man?

In a preemptive strike, she slapped the desk. ‘Sign the card! Bring on the lawyers!’

They were coming to the closing shots – almost done, for Geldorf must realize that no deal was in the offering, and this was the sign of a case with abundant evidence. He began to shrink, shoulders slumping, hunching. His hands were rising, as if to beg. ‘I loved that woman. I grieved for her. Natalie was – ’ He had lost his train of thought, his reason; he had lost everything. The old man bowed his head, and Mallory strained to catch the mumbled words, ‘I was a good cop once. That’s worth – something.’

She stared at him, incredulous. ‘You were expecting a deal?’

‘I don’t care if he was a cop.’ Jack Coffey lifted the carton and feigned impatience. ‘We’re not gonna offer him any – ’

‘It’s my case.’ Mallory turned to Geldorf. ‘I know what you’re thinking, old man. All that embarrassment to the department. And saving the city the cost of a trial – that should be worth something, too, right?’

Geldorf nodded.

Jack Coffey dumped the carton on the floor, saying, ‘Keep it simple, Mallory. I’m not giving him the moon.’

She leaned forward, eyes trained on Geldorf. ‘This is the best deal – the only deal you get. The state won’t request the death penalty. No cameras, no media circus, and the real story never leaves this room. If you waive a trial, we can probably get the DA to push your arraignment through night court – quietly.’ In fact, the arrangements had already been approved. Sentencing would follow in the morning. ‘All the standard perks for an ex-cop, and you’ll do fifteen years in prison.’ A life sentence for a man of seventy-five.

She pushed a yellow pad across the desk. ‘Make up any version you like. Call it a crime of passion. Say you once loved a woman to death. You’ve got six seconds, old man. Take it or leave it.’

‘Time’s up!’ Jack Coffey’s fist came down on the desk, and Geldorf jumped. ‘Now we book him. Right now!’

Lars Geldorf picked up the pad of paper, and his hand trembled as he began to write out his confession.

Mallory followed her partner across the squad room, not willing to let him out of her sight, not yet. He was one of few people who mattered to her, but that did not mean she trusted him. Riker sat down at his desk far from the pool of fluorescent light. The ember of his cigarette glowed in the dark as he dropped his match in a dish of paperclips.

‘How’s Sparrow?’ This was a test. According to her paid informant, a nurse, Riker called for updates every hour. ‘It’s almost over,’ he said, ‘just a matter of hours.’ Mallory bit back a comment that he would not like, and they sat in uneasy silence for a while, watching his smoke twist and curl. ‘You wanted Sparrow’s case so bad,’ she said. ‘Just keeping faith with a snitch? Or maybe you thought Frankie Delight’s murder would come back to bite you.’ She wanted it to be one of these two things, something cold, less personal.

Riker shrugged. ‘There was more to it, but that’s between me and Sparrow.’ He rose from the chair and stubbed out his cigarette. ‘I’m heading back to the hospital. I wanna be there when – ’

‘No you don’t,’ said Mallory. ‘I know she’s out of the coma. You weren’t planning to tell me that, were you?’ Mallory stared at him until he met her eyes. ‘It’s my turn at Sparrow.’

What a kick in the head, huh, Riker?

After all he had gone through on that whore’s account, now he must stand back, virtually handing a helpless woman over to her worst enemy. And yet he could not raise a challenge. Her claim on the dying prostitute was so much stronger than his.

He nodded, and their deal was done.

Mallory watched from the window on the street until Riker emerged from the building. Reporters converged on him with cameras and microphones – star treatment. Sergeant Bell came running out the front door to rescue him with a press release of lies, waving the paper as bait. After the mob had deserted Riker for fresh meat, he stepped into the street and let two cabs go by unhailed, for he was a man with nowhere to go from here.

A lamp switched on at the back of the squad room. The chief of Forensics sat in a small patch of light, hands folded, waiting.

Spying, Heller?

The criminalist stared at her across the span of five desks. How much had he overheard? As Mallory strolled toward him, she could see that his eyes were red and sore from lost sleep.

‘Warwick’s Used Books.’ He simply put these words out in the air between them, then solemnly awaited her reaction. Mallory was stunned and feeling threatened. He misunderstood her expression. ‘So Warwick was a suspect. I knew it.’

Mallory settled into a chair beside the desk. Dancing with this man was a tricky business, but she would not admit that she was mystified. ‘I can’t give up any information on him.’ Always best to mix lies in equal parts with the truth. ‘The scarecrow wasn’t Warwick. Does that help?’