Faye Kellerman - Double Homicide

“I didn’t see no shots.” Tears streamed down the girl’s smooth cheeks. “That’s the truth, lady. I didn’t see no shots, and I didn’t see no one shoot.” She was crying now. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“‘Cause we don’t want the animal who shot Julius to walk,” McCain said.

“Who you think he’s gonna come after if he don’t get put away?” Dorothy asked her.

“Not if I don’t say nothin‘!” Spring retorted. “And there’s nothin’ to say ‘cause I didn’t see nothing. I just heard it. Pop, pop, pop, you know. That’s it. I was too scared to look around and see who was shooting.”

McCain took out his notebook. “Where were you sitting?”

“Next to Julius. He was like makin‘ his move, talking nothin’ but sugar. I knew what was comin‘.” She shrugged. “It was fine with me.”

“You’re doing good, Spring,” Dorothy said. “Now, where was Julius sitting?”

Spring regarded her with disdain. “At the table.”

“Where at the table?”

“What do you mean?”

McCain said, “The tables were positioned by the railing, right?”

Spring nodded.

Dorothy said, “Was he looking over the railing, or did he have his back to the railing?”

Spring squinted as she attempted to retrieve the image from her memory bank. “He was sitting… looking over the railing… looking at the door so he could check out who was coming in. Then he said… he said, ”Uh-oh, Pappy’s back.“ He stood up. That’s when I heard the popping. Everyone started screamin‘.”

She put her hands over her face. “I hit the ground, bundled myself up in a little ball, and started prayin‘ to Jesus.” She dropped her hands and shook her head. “When it was over, Julius was lying across the table, blood coming outta him.” She stared at Dorothy. “I never saw Pappy and I never saw him take out no gun.”

Dorothy tried to slow it down. “Spring, when you got up, you remember seeing Julius across the table. Was he on his stomach or on his back?”

“I think he was on his stomach. He fell with a big thump. I heard that. I remember thinking that he was gonna break the table and crush me to death.”

“So he fell pretty hard,” Dorothy said.

“Yeah,” Spring said. “He fell hard. But I didn’t see no one shoot him.”

McCain said, “If you didn’t see Pappy shoot, you didn’t see him shoot. All you have to do, Spring, is tell us what you heard Julius say, then tell us what you saw.”

“I ain’t gonna say anything. I’m scared shitless of that animal.”

“We can protect you-”

“That’s bullshit! Police don’t protect no one, specially not a black woman.” Spring looked at Dorothy. “And you being here ain’t gonna change any of that.”

“We’ll subpoena you, Spring,” McCain said.

“First you gotta find me. The next time I won’t make it so easy.”

“We should arrest her,” McCain said.

“On what grounds?” Dorothy took out her cell phone.

“Material witness to a murder, and she’s a flight risk. Also, screaming at the cops.”

“She didn’t witness anything substantive,” Dorothy said. “Once we got Pappy under lock and key, she’ll calm down. Can you start the car and turn on the heat? I’m freezing. God, this must be the coldest December on record.”

“That’s what you say every year.”

“Just start the car, please.”

McCain complied, turning the heat to the max as Dorothy checked her phone messages. Within seconds the car smelled like scorched wool. “Anything important?”

“Captain O’Toole wants to talk to us.”

“That ain’t good.”

“Probably not.”

“He didn’t say why?”

“Just his secretary telling you and me to come in at two.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Shhh… ” Dorothy concentrated as she listened to her voice mail. She pressed the disconnect button and flipped down the lid on her phone. “Dr. Change called. The X-ray didn’t show any aneurysm.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m not.”

“So that’s good, right?” McCain said.

“Despite that, he’s sure an aneurysm killed Julius.”

“How can that be?”

“Could be like Change said. A bone blocked it on the X-ray.”

“Or Julius died of a gunshot wound Change overlooked.”

“Keep that to yourself when we meet with him, Micky.” Dorothy checked her watch: 1:15. “We can’t make it to the ME office and back before two. I’ll tell Change we’ll be there by three-thirty, maybe four o’clock.”

“Sounds good.”

“Maybe we should grab some lunch in the meantime,” Dorothy said.

“Lunch.” McCain laughed. “Now, there’s a novel idea.”

“Four sounds fine,” Change told Dorothy over the line. “If I’m a little late, just wait for me.”

“No problem, Doc. Can I ask you a few questions?”

“If they’re about the X-ray, I’m not at the morgue now.”

“Just your impressions.”

“I know what you’re going to ask. At a quick glance, I didn’t see any radiographic evidence of an aneurysm. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. I still say that that was the most likely cause of death.”

“Okay, let’s assume the aneurysm was there.” Dorothy switched her cell from one ear to the other. “Might we assume that it was small?”

“Maybe.”

“And if it was small-a little out-pouching that didn’t even show up on the X-ray-and if Julius fell splat on the table, could we assume that an impact like that might have caused a tiny aneurysm to burst… theoretically?”

“Why don’t we wait until we’re at the morgue for this discussion?” Change said.

“Just answer me this. Could that have happened, that his falling caused the aneurysm to open up?”

“Anything’s possible,” Change said. “But you’ll want stronger evidence than that going into court.” A pause. “That’s my opinion anyway.”

“Thank you.” Dorothy hung up and looked at McCain. “I’m in the mood for kosher pastrami-that Romanian stuff. We’re two blocks away from Rubin’s. Okay with you?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said McCain. “What did Change say?”

“The fall’s a maybe, maybe not. Not strong enough to go to court with-in his opinion.”

“Opinions are like assholes,” McCain said. “Everybody’s got one.”

Captain O’Toole closed the door to the interview room-a windowless, airless space with barely enough room for a standard-issue table and chairs. The floor was a mosaic of mismatched green granite tiles; the once sunshine-yellow walls were now a faded mustard. The captain pulled out a chair with his foot and sat backward, with his stomach pressed against the splats. He was flushed, forehead dotted with beads of sweat. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and gave his face a firm wipe.

With him was Harriet Gallway, who had put in ten years with the DA’s office. She was very petite, so slight that people noticed her only because of her flaming-red hair. She had gobs of it, flying over her shoulders and trailing down her back. She wore a hunter-green suit and black flats. Her green eyes sparkled when she smiled. But she wasn’t smiling now.

“Hot in here,” she muttered.

“Don’t smell too good, either,” O’Toole added. “All of you have a seat.”

Dorothy and McCain exchanged glances and sat down.

O’Toole nodded to Harriet. “Ladies first.”

Harriet cleared her throat. “My boss tells me that Delveccio’s counsel is running the story that Julius died from natural causes.”

“Not exactly,” McCain said.

“I don’t like that,” O’Toole said. “What does that mean, ”Not exactly‘?“