Secret Radio Murders - Chapter 12

The storm rushed down from the mountainous upstate region of New York bringing cooler air, while it bathed the city proper in large splashing raindrops. Nature’s shower had come so quickly, rivers of sparkling water rolled over the sidewalks and down the curbs.1

Brad Benson darted from his car, across the parking lot, and into the side door of precinct 66. He’d finished up some paper work at his own desk this morning so he’d be free to join Farley. Powers That Be had decided the investigation should be worked out of 66 for reasons known only to them. Unprepared for the change in the weather, his thin shirt was quickly soaked and plastered against his skin changing its whiteness to pink. His coppery shaded hair had taken the heaviest dose of rain and now looked rusty as it leaked onto his shoulders. “Fucking weather,” he mumbled and shook himself like an irritated dog.2

Joe Farley had been coming from the evidence room. He paused in the hall to eye Benson and give a sharp laugh before he said, “Teach you to be late. I came in before seven—the sun was shinning then.”3

“Yeah…right.” Benson decided against making excuses even if they were the truth. He wasn’t giving Farley the edge by explaining his own actions. They held the same rank and were sharing responsibility for this investigation--damn if he’d let the older guy run the show.4

Farley shrugged. “Towels in the locker room,” he said. “I’ve got a dry shirt in my locker 216. You are welcome to use it. Offer pants.” He grinned as he let his eyes travel up Benson’s tall lean frame. “But you’d look weird in ‘High Waters’.”5

“Right,” Benson said but thought. ‘Weirder still holding them up with one hand.’6

“Your guys showed up on time,” Farley continued as he followed Benson into the locker room. “I put them to work. Tomaino’s parked on Goodwin until we finish checking him out and the rookie is on the computer doing traces on the Radio show’s personal. They have a young fellow, kind of a gofer, Josh Hammond I’m curious about.” 7

Benson retrieved a shirt from Farley’s emergency supply in locker 216. He checked the collar for the XL that seemed to be the modern equivalent of fits all and then pulled his own shirt off as Farley tossed him a towel. Rain, no matter how hot the temperature, tends to turn freezing when it connects with skin and Benson rubbed vigorously with the towel at goose bumped flesh.8

“I had Hayes and Hamlin pay a return visit to the crisis center early this morning. Figured they could question the crew that was on the night Michelle called,” Farley said. “Who’ll be tired, unprepared and less apt to be thinking up excuses.”9

“Makes sense.” Benson finished shoving the shirt into his waistband. “You got decent coffee around here?” 10

“It may turn your hair black, but it’s drinkable.” Farley preceded his new partner on a slight tour of the building. As they entered the operation center to locate a coffee machine, the officer on duty answered the ringing phone.11

“You got a call Joe,” the desk sergeant indicated with the receiver he held. “Shall I put it through to your office?”12

“I’ll take it here.” He set his cup down and stepped to the desk. “Sergeant Farley.” He acknowledged the caller.13

“Joe, this is Janet Mitchell, M. E.'s office." There was excitement in her voice. "As you know by my report, I was able to determine the same chemical mixture in similar amounts had killed those women?"14

Farley said, "Yes? Have you found something new?" 15

“I’m able to label the drug combination for you. We’ve isolated the brand. It's Norvasc a blood pressure medication. Fairly new on the market, there is no generic at this time."16

Blood pressure medicine? Farley pondered. A prescription drug?17

After a minute, Janet said, "Are you there?"18

"Yes, still here. By no generic, you mean it can only be purchased under the brand name?"19

"Precisely. And it isn’t a drug of choice to treat young, skinny, and active women. If these are assisted suicides, it has to be someone with access to a large amount of Norvasc.”20

Joe's heart skipped a beat. It was a major break. Was there another Dr. Kavorkian out there? Now they knew what had killed the women, they had to find out how that much of the drug was obtained and by who. "Janet, that's marvelous. I could kiss you."21

"Promises, promises." She giggled then became serious. “Joe, there isn’t a whole lot of ways to obtain large amounts of a prescription drug. No MD is going to proscribe a lethal dose. Pharmacies have buy and sell ledgers. Samples would mean a drug rep or doctor’s office connection.”22

"Thanks."23

"You're very welcome and I'm gonna hold you to that kiss."24

Benson left Farley with his phone call, and headed for the sergeant’s office. In an open anteroom before the offices started, he came upon a familiar face bent into a monitor. “How’s it going Cody?” He leaned down to study the screen. 25

The rookie looked up and grinned at his boss. “Thought you could ride tail, “ he said. “Farley’s got you beat three ways from tomorrow. My butt’s been glued to this chair since seven.”26

“Anything interesting?”27

“You can cross out Josh Hammond. He’s Oldman Connelly’s sister’s kid. Junior at Princeton, he’s only been in the city three weeks. I traced him back to high school. Carries a 3.9 average and is so squeaky clean he’s never had so much as a speeding ticket.”28

“Who else did you look into?”29

“Mark Gheil. The producer. He came from Los Angelus a year ago.—dirty book has it he made some costly goofs on a couple of movies—came here looking for a break in TV. He’s still trying there. He was producing a few weekly shows, when Connelly approached him about Harris’s talk show.”30

“Business—what about personal life?” Farley stopped beside them. He set a cup of black coffee next to the computer. “Figured you could use some.”31

Cody distastefully eyed the coffee but didn’t admit he’d prefer a Coke only said. “Gheil’s likes the ladies. He was only married for two years when his wife filed for divorce. Infidelity bought her a generous settlement. Then for about four years he operated a pretty active Bachelor pad with a swing shift. Seems last November he met a lady lawyer and not only does it seem an exclusive; but she moved in with him recently.”32

Farley let out a whistle and snickered. “You found all that out in a few hours without leaving that chair?” It wasn’t meant as a question. “Damn—give you a week and you can give us the complete background dirt on the Joint Chiefs.” 33

“Cody’s good,” Benson agreed. “Make hard copy on what you have.” He gave the rookie’s shoulder a light punch. “Drop it in the office. Then get out of here. Get yourself some lunch. You can tackle Harris when you get back.”34

“Harris?” Farley remarked as they walked down the hall of the detective division. Remodeling, a few years back, had created several walls of windows to allow daylight to cut down on the use of electricity. Every light brightly lit a desk area occupied or not twenty-four-seven. No one noticed.35

“If it wasn’t for Neil, I wouldn’t have got involved.”36

“The Doc’s your friend Joe,” Benson reached into the drawer of Joe’s desk and removed the smokeless astray. He tapped out a cigarette from the shinny green package. He was making himself to home. “Friends can outfox the fox. I’m not saying Harris has anything to do with the murders—believe me I’d like to clear him—the faster the better. The more we know didn’t do it the tighter becomes the group who may have.” Benson sat down at the desk next to Farley’s that’d been emptied out just that morning. He lit his Kool.37

“I ran Neil through records myself,” Farley said. “A couple of parking tickets he paid. Had a break-in a few times at his office. He doesn’t keep drugs there, so they vented their anger and didn’t take much. That’s New York.” 38

“He’s a Psychiatrist—a licensed professional means he can write prescriptions.”