John Lescroart - Nothing But The Truth

‘Look.’ Kerry’s color had come up now. ‘It was a horrible tragedy that Bree was killed, and it is my most fervent wish that it hadn’t happened. Beyond that, I hope you find her killer. But I do wish that this city had a more competent police force, so that I would not have to be bothered with this grasping-at-straws stupidity on the penultimate day of my campaign.’

Valens took his cue and stood up. ‘That’s it. I’m calling the mayor. He’ll put a stop to this.’ He faced Glitsky directly. ‘You won’t have to wait for the election, lieutenant. You can lose your badge tonight.’

Hardy reached over to the tape recorder, snapped it off, and spoke before Glitsky could reply. ‘Good idea, Valens. You go ahead. Then I’ll call Jeff Elliot and we can see where that goes.’

‘You know Jeff?’ This was Kerry, all attention.

‘We’re buds,’ Hardy said. ‘He was here last night and you weren’t. How about that?’

Glitsky raised his voice. ‘That’s enough!’ He lifted the tape recorder and turned it on again, then whispered into the resulting silence. ‘This is my interrogation. I will ask the questions. Mr Kerry, I need five more minutes of your time, and then I will walk out the door with Mr Hardy. You’ve admitted you were at Bree Beaumont’s penthouse. What were you doing there?’

A disgusted shake of the head. ‘Visiting her. She was one of my consultants and beyond that, we were friends.’

‘Were you alone with her there?’

‘Yes. Is that sinister?’

Glitsky abruptly changed his tack. ‘What did you do after midnight last night?’

Kerry collapsed back on to the couch. He mopped his brow again with the washcloth. ‘Last night? What does last night have to do with anything?’

‘A policeman was killed about five blocks from here last night.’

Kerry cast a glance over at Valens. ‘They’ll stop at nothing,’ he said. Then, back to Glitsky. ‘And I killed him, too, I suppose. I’m not busy enough running for governor. I’ve got to premeditate several murders as well, among them a cop. I must have a low tolerance for boredom.’ He sighed. ‘Last night, I took a walk.’

‘You took a walk?’

‘That’s right. Al left at around – when Al, eleven thirty? – and I was wound up. The MTBE poisoning. Bree. Even Mr Hardy here. I decided to walk off some of the tension.’

‘Do you own a gun, Mr Kerry?’

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a basement full of Uzis and semi-automatics. AK-47s are my favorites. When I’m not killing women and policemen, I like to dress up like a postal employee and spray up some McDonald’s someplace.’ He forced himself to his feet. ‘This was a voluntary interview, as you noted: I would appreciate a copy of the transcript of that tape in my headquarters by tomorrow. And I assure you that I am going to speak to the mayor, and you can do any goddam thing you want about it, both of you.’

He was halfway across the room when Glitsky, a dog with a bone, spoke up after him. ‘Do you own a gun, Mr Kerry? You didn’t answer me.’

The candidate stopped and turned slowly. In measured tones, he answered. ‘I have a Glock nine millimeter in my bedroom for protection. I did not shoot your colleague with it. You have my word.’

Glitsky smiled and pounced softly. ‘How did you know he was shot?’

Kerry stood stock still. His eyes, for an instant stained with fear, darted to Valens. Then, recovering, he came back to Glitsky. ‘From your questions about guns, that’s a perfectly reasonable assumption. Now good night, lieutenant.’

Driving back downtown, for the first several blocks neither man said a word. At a red light on Geary, they stopped and Hardy half turned in the passenger’s seat. ‘Offhand,’ he said, ‘I wouldn’t say that went too well.’

Glitsky looked over at him. ‘I don’t know. He has no alibi. He owns a gun. You notice he said “several murders”?’

‘When?’

‘Wait.’ Glitsky fiddled with his tape recorder, rewound a minute, got to the spot. And here was Kerry’s voice again: ‘I’m not busy enough running for governor. I’ve got to premeditate several murders as well, among them a cop.’ He flicked it off. ‘Several,’ he said, ‘is not two. Two is a couple – Bree and Canetta. No one knows about Griffin being part of this.’

‘But he didn’t say “among them some cops,” or “a couple of cops.” ’

‘No, he didn’t,’ Abe admitted. ‘I know he was being sarcastic. But still… it’ll be instructive if he does call the mayor.’ A pause. ‘He’s a lot quicker on his feet than I’d given him credit for. I might even vote for him.’

‘Assuming he didn’t kill anybody.’

‘Even then.’ Glitsky seemed amused. ‘You never want to underestimate the value of brains in your elected officials.’

‘I don’t know,’ Hardy said. ‘Our President’s got brains.’

‘Yeah, but they’re all south of his head.’ The light changed and they moved.

‘I’ll tell you one thing,’ Hardy commented. ‘Kerry’s got brass balls if he did any of this.’

‘I think we just got a glimpse of them,’ Abe said. ‘The guy is no pansy. You get the impression he hasn’t talked to any cops before, that it’s all been Valens up to now?’

‘A hundred per cent.’

‘And here’s a last bit of five-cent psychology. To my mind, Kerry’s exactly the kind of guy that Griffin could have wound up handing his gun to. I could see him asking Carl for a ride in the cruiser. Wow, this is what it’s like being a cop. You mind if I just hold your gun for a minute? And it’s all loaded and everything?’

‘Or,’ Hardy countered, ‘he packed along his Glock and forced him.’

‘Or that, too.’

‘Griffin just drops by his house? Knocks at the door?’

‘I don’t know. It’s hard to see that.’

‘Do we know where he was when Griffin got it?’

‘It was the day of Bree’s funeral. He was in town. Valens says he was sick over Bree’s death. Canceled his appointments, but made the funeral.’

Another silence descended. After a few blocks, Hardy looked over at Glitsky again. ‘Lord,’ he said.

‘It’s interesting,’ the lieutenant admitted.

The two cars were parked next to one another in the cavernous city garage under the Hall of Justice. There was a guard trying to keep warm in a small booth by the back doorway, which was the main entrance. But otherwise, except for Glitsky and Hardy, the place was empty, which was not surprising after eleven o’clock on a Sunday night. Glitsky asked the guard to bring up the lights and in a moment the dark and grimy garage was lit up like a showroom.

Yellow crime-scene tape hung from traffic cones and this segregated the immediate area where Griffin’s and Canetta’s cars had been parked from the contiguous body shop and parking spaces for the city-issue vehicles.

All doors and the trunks of both cars were open. Under the car on the right, a dark blue Lumina, someone in the crime scene unit had written block letters in chalk: CANETTA. The car over GRIFFIN was a gray, mid-sized Chevrolet with minor body damage and a lot of years behind it.

But for the moment, their steps echoing as they navigated the garage, they were still on Kerry. ‘So you think your badge is really in trouble?’

‘For interrogating a righteous suspect?’

‘They’re going to claim it’s political.’

Glitsky snorted. ‘They don’t support much of what I do, but I’ve got to believe they won’t step on me for this. There’s probable cause here in spades. In fact, I’m going to put somebody on a warrant for the Glock tomorrow. See if it’s where he said it was, what it might tell us…’ He indicated the cars before them. ‘Maybe that Glock has spent some time in one of these, and picked up something for its troubles.’