Frank Zafiro - Some Degree of Murder

The big pimp pointed up at me. “This is the man, baby. If he wasn’t in such a hurry to leave, I’d make sure you gave him a trip around the world. On the house.”

Rhonda cocked her head and lifted her eyebrows. “Whaddya say? Got time for a little adventure?”

I shook my head. “Not today. Maybe some other time.”

Rhonda shrugged and slid into the booth across from Rolo. I extended my hand to the black man. “Thanks for your help.”

He grabbed my hand and shook it. “It’s been nice doin’ business with you.”

When I climbed in to the cab, Axel looked over at me. “Tough day?”

I smiled at him. “You can say that.”

“Where to?”

“The Davenport.”

Axel turned back forward, put the cab into gear and we lurched away from the curb. A few minutes later, the cabbie looked into the rear view mirror and caught my eye. “Want some music?”

“Yeah, actually, that sounds good. Make it a seventies station, if you got it.”

“Oh, yeah, we got a great station for those tunes.”

Axel reached over and flicked the radio on. Dobie Gray’s smooth voice filled the cab as he serenaded us with Drift Away .

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes for the rest of the trip.

She was sitting cross-legged in the chair when I walked into the hotel room. Her legs were bare except for the green dragon tattoo and she had on an over-sized black sweatshirt. Gina’s hair was tucked behind her ears and a cigarette smoldered in her hand.

Her eyes were concerned as she climbed out of the chair and met me halfway. “You okay?”

I nodded.

“It’s done?”

Another nod.

She wrapped her arms around me and hugged. I let myself fall into her embrace and I smelled her clean scent. I held her close and let the warmth of her body work through mine.

Gina broke the embrace and looked up to me. “What do we do now?”

TOWER

I sat on the bumper of Lieutenant Crawford’s car, holding a small Styrofoam cup of coffee between my hands. The entire block was crawling with detectives, crime-scene techs and patrol officers. Every possible kind of lookie-loo gathered at the edge of the yellow crime-scene tape at the end of the block, watching the high drama of a homicide scene.

The light windbreaker someone had given me did little to break the chill I was feeling. The rotgut coffee in my cup tasted like turpentine, but at least it was hot.

Rowdy was dead.

Because of me.

“A complete mess, Tower.” Crawford’s analysis broke into my private reverie.

I raised my eyes to his and considered telling him where to go, but the Deputy Chief appeared at my right.

“Leave him be, Crawford,” he said. “Why don’t you go find out when the Chaplain will be here, huh? And make sure that the patrol units on perimeter get relief.”

Crawford shot me a dirty look but muttered a “yes, sir” before shuffling off, chewing on his unlit cigar.

The Deputy Chief stared after him, then looked at me and shook his head. “And they say Civil Service is a blessing.”

I shrugged.

The Deputy Chief gave me a knowing nod and clapped me lightly on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right. Anything you need, you let me know. All right?”

I nodded at him absently.

“Anything,” he said pointedly.

I cleared my throat and said, “Thanks.”

He clapped me on the shoulder again and walked away toward the media vans at the opposite end of the street. I followed him with my gaze and then realized that the whole exchange had almost certainly been on camera. Everyone in River City would see what a great leader he was.

“John?”

I turned to look at Detective Ray Browning. His brow was furrowed in concern.

“Yeah?”

“Listen, John, I just need to get some things straight with you before…well, before other people are asking.”

I felt panic clawing in my stomach, but tried to remain outwardly calm. “Go ahead,” I said.

Browning rubbed his eyebrows. “Well, I’m just asking here, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And this is just between us, okay? I mean, this can be out of school, if you want it to be.”

“Does it need to be?”

“Yeah, probably. Hell, I don’t know.” He looked me directly in the eye. “John, you gotta know that Crawford and Hart are both going to climb your ass over this.”

“I know.”

“This cowboy stuff…it isn’t the way of the world anymore.”

I took a sip of coffee. “I know.”

Browning watched me for a moment, then asked, “When did you know Cody Heinz was the suspect in your homicide cases?”

I told Browning everything I could and only left out what I had to. His lips tightened when I admitted to talking to the Brotherhood at their clubhouse because it meant I’d stepped all over his case involving the Sammy G. homicide.

“Do you know who killed Sammy G.?”

“No,” I told him without hesitation.

Browning eyed me curiously. “You know that fire over at the Palms last night?”

“I haven’t heard.”

“Structure fire,” he said. “Burned up most of the place. Three dead bodies were found in one room. All of them were BSC. Funny thing is, it looks like they were dead before the fire started.”

I didn’t reply. My stomach was churning, though. I knew in an instant that somehow Virgil Kelley was to blame for those three, too. How many people had he murdered trying to get to Rowdy? Four? Five?

Doesn’t matter , I thought. What matters is that you helped him murder the last one.

“An awful lot of BSC are dying around here lately,” Browning said, still watching me.

Crawford appeared at the front of the car again. “Tower, I told you to get your ass off of my car,” Crawford said, adjusting his belt and switching the cigar to his left hand.

“We’re almost done here,” Browning broke in, “and then I think someone should run John to the station or home.”

Crawford sniffed and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Finish up.” He gave another puff on his cigar and waited.

Browning took out his notebook. “Now, John, you said that this guy Brian told you about Cody Heinz’s little hideout here-“

“Rowdy.”

Browning looked up. “Okay. Rowdy, then. So what happened when you got here?”

I took a breath and let it out. “I got here and walked up to the office. I heard music and yelling inside and saw that the door was forced. I figured the situation was exigent and so I made entry. Once inside-“

“Why didn’t you call for back-up?” Crawford asked.

“I left my radio in the car.”

“Not very smart.”

I shrugged. “A mistake.”

“What happened once you were inside, John?” Browning asked.

“Almost as soon as I got inside, the music stopped and I heard some yelling. A couple of seconds later, I heard a gunshot.”

“One?”

I nodded.

“Go on.”

“I went down the hallway and saw Rowdy laying on the ground and a white male standing over the top of him with a gun.”

“Did he match the description Mrs. Taylor and Brian Osmond gave you?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it coulda been the same guy.”

Browning jotted something in his notebook. “Then what happened?”

“Before I could do or say anything, he bolted for the back door. I fired three shots at him but I don’t think I hit him.”

“Why didn’t you chase him?” Crawford asked.

I looked at Crawford and wondered when the last time he chased anybody was. “I started to. Then I saw the girl.”

“You mean the crime scene you completely destroyed?” Crawford said.

I gave another shrug.