James Andrus - The Perfect Death

But now Stallings wanted to focus on finding the jerkweed Daniel Byrd. Nothing indicated that this was a guy who contributed to society in any way. When someone like Peep Moran looks down on you, you’re not scoring too high on the social ladder. Stallings didn’t care what it would take to catch this guy. He had an idea they’d be successful.

Katie Massa was in a pretty good mood. Often when she left her son with her mother, Tyler would cry as she walked out the door. It drained and distracted her at work when she needed to concentrate on helping the kids on the ward. But tonight Tyler waved a cheerful good-bye and she felt very comfortable leaving him until she was able to roll home about eight o’clock in the morning. This was the first day of her three-day schedule and she knew she’d have plenty of energy to make it through the shift. It was the middle day that caused her problems. On the third and final day of her schedule she was looking forward to four days off to do whatever she wanted. About every three weeks she and Tyler would take the two-and-a-half-hour drive down to Orlando and visit one of the theme parks. She had an annual pass to Disney, MGM, and SeaWorld. Often she’d leave it up to Tyler where he wanted to go as they drove into Orlando. Sometimes he wanted to go see the big fish, Shamu. But sometimes he wanted to see the big mouse, Mickey.

Katie wanted to give Tyler a magical childhood, and she felt like she got a good start on it by taking him on these quick trips. She knew in a few years he wouldn’t want to spend as much time with his mother. Katie was determined that the memories Tyler had of spending time with her would be fun and beautiful.

One of the few regrets she had since her divorce was that she would like to have another child close enough in age for Tyler to play with him or her. He’d be a great big brother. But he was already four and she had no real prospects for a man in her life.

She did like Buddy, the guy who had turned her on to the downloaded crosswords from the New York Times. He had a very warm smile and friendly manner and she could tell he was intelligent. She wasn’t real clear about what he did for a living but knew it was in the construction industry. He’d mentioned that he owned his own glass company, but she wasn’t sure if that meant windows or something more artistic like etching. She’d given him her phone number. Something she didn’t do very often.

Katie hoped he’d call her. It’d been some time since she’d gone out on a date. She wasn’t even necessarily interested in sex, just some adult conversation with a few drinks. It seemed like the last year the only adult conversation she had was hearing about her mother’s conflict with her elderly neighbors.

She came in the hospital through the employee entrance in the rear of Shands and said hello to the lone security guard, who rarely got off a specially reinforced stool near the door. She often wondered why the hospital didn’t put the security guard in the lobby with the public coming in and out, instead of the elderly female volunteers who seldom asked for identification and could barely hear the requests for the room numbers of patients.

She skipped the elevator altogether and took the rear stairwell to pediatric endocrinology on the fourth floor. There were five babies on the ward tonight under two years old. If she did nothing else but comfort them and make one of them giggle she felt like she had accomplished a lot both as a person and as a nurse.

She wished every day was like today.

Tony Mazzetti was already agitated when they set up a three-car surveillance around the construction site in downtown Jacksonville. Stallings explained that a reliable informant had said Byrd would pick up his paycheck around nine o’clock. That didn’t bother Mazzetti; what he was pissed off about was that the man running the finances of the construction site was his informant, Joey Big Balls. Joey had known he was looking for Daniel Byrd and hadn’t said anything. It was some passive-aggressive bullshit that guys like Joey got off on. Mazzetti lived by a code that included punishing people who double-crossed him. Something terrible would have to happen to Joey Big Balls. Mazzetti wished Joey was still on parole so he could get him violated, if he could get one of the lazy-assed parole officers to fill out the paperwork and go before a judge. With his latest experience at the parole office, he doubted he’d get that to happen.

The other thing bothering Mazzetti was his quickly deteriorating relationship with Patty Levine. She had been cordial and professional as they prepared to go out on surveillance, but when he asked if she would like a ride to his car with she said, “We’ll probably need at least three cars after. I’ll take my own.” It was the professional and right thing to do but not what she would’ve said two weeks ago. If that wasn’t a clear signal that his girlfriend didn’t want to spend any more time with him, nothing was.

Mazzetti had told Stallings if they saw Byrd, to allow him to walk into the trailer so that Mazzetti could confront Joey Big Balls too. He recognized Stallings was not one of those detectives you had to explain everything to in great detail. For a jerk and an asshole he was pretty bright.

Mazzetti needed time away from the massive crush of leads and the constant requests for updates by the command staff of JSO. This was a perfect little job for the evening.

Stallings monitored a handheld radio that had been rendered almost obsolete by new, reliable cell phones. But nothing could replace radio’s ability to broadcast information to more than one person at a time. When conducting a surveillance or in a chase, it was vital to let every other unit know exactly where you were and what you were doing. It was important to be able to broadcast what kind of threat the suspect posed. If they were armed and dangerous. If there was an active warrant. Or if they were mentally unstable. A cop had to approach each situation differently, and getting the right information was imperative.

Tonight the three detectives from the crimes/persons squad were on a rarely used frequency that was not monitored by dispatch. That meant they could speak more casually and say things they normally wouldn’t say over the radio. This included somewhat idle chatter while they waited for Daniel Byrd.

Stallings heard the crackle of static before Mazzetti said, “The second he steps into the trailer we’ll move in. Simple, clean, and quick.”

Stallings had to chuckle. Experience had taught him nothing was ever clean, quick, or simple. That’s why he always tried to stay prepared mentally and said out loud to nobody, “Is today the day that changes the rest of my life?” As he said it, he reached down with his right hand and felt his Glock Model 22.40-caliber semiautomatic pistol tucked snugly into his Safariland holster on his right hip. He also had an ASP expandable baton in the rear left pocket of his jeans. He was too old to worry about punching people if he had something hard he could strike them with instead. But it was still his hope that Byrd would surrender without an argument. While he was hoping, he wanted Byrd to also confess to three murders and help them find Leah Tischler while he was at it. Those were the kind of wishes Stallings would ask if anyone ever cared.

Over the course of forty-five minutes a number of vehicles had rolled into and out of the lot directly in front of the administration trailer on the site of the renovation of one of Jacksonville’s older but more elegant office buildings.

At nine o’clock a truck rumbled to a stop directly in front of the trailer. Stallings caught a glimpse of the driver as he jumped down, leaving the truck running, and entered the trailer without knocking.