Secret Radio Murders - Chapter 29

by Geri Fitzsimmons & Andy Stephenson1

“You son of a bitch, Farley!“ Exploding from behind his desk to his feet, Captain Hector Taylor’s words were flung at the Detective as he stepped into his office. “You may have your nose up Carbonetti’s ass, but I’m still running things at 66.” His anger purpled his cheeks and caused his eyes to pop out like automobile headlights at night.2

Benson, directly behind Farley, had the good sense to pause and consider retreat. Then, since Farley wasn’t totally shocked by the verbal abuse, and the irate giant apparently wasn’t going to vacate the immediate area of his desk and carry the abuse into a physical altercation, he shrugged and moved into the room, closing the door behind them. 3

Joe Farley walked up and tossed the thick folder he’d been carrying on the captain’s desk, then backed up and dropped into the nearest chair. If he was shocked, he didn’t give a hint only his tone calm, he said, “You got a problem?” 4

Brad Benson remained leaning against the door as he watched the adversaries preparing to square off. 5

“I got a problem all right. Since when the hell do you step over my head and report directly to Cabonetti? Then get him to okay your stepping in on a Bronx case? You don’t have enough work in Manhattan?” Taylor’s barking didn’t so much as get a rise out of Farley.6

Joe leaned forward in his chair as he said; “We needed to get access to that crime scene while it was still fresh.” He lifted his shoulders in a slow shrug. “Most mornings you don’t show up here until after nine. Last guy who tried your cell—you ripped a new one.” 7

Benson, concerned Farley wasn’t interested in smoothing things, offered, “You know damn well Capt, this should be handled by a twenty four hour taskforce. You tried to convince the Deputy Chief of that yourself.” Strolling forward, he kept his eyes on the irate Taylor’s face drawing and holding the man’s attention as he nonchalantly parked his butt on the chair next to Farley. “We’re doing our best to keep the overtime down.” 8

Since neither of the others interrupted, he pushed on. “I had one of my wiz kids working on match ups. He found the Pamela Murray case, which mimics the poison cases in most aspects except Pamela was knifed. Saturday, Renee Weinberg, a single, petite, young lady was butchered the same way Pamela was. She wasn’t found until yesterday. Joe heard about it, called me and we decided to check into it.9

“It was the Deputy Chief’s idea to transfer the Murray case to Major Case and then assign it to us under special circumstances. We weren’t out to step on any toes, just trying to keep this mess contained like you told us too.”10

Taylor didn’t appear to be any happier, but he was listening. He sat back down at his desk and opened the folder as he sneered, “And you found what? The Weinberg girl was murdered by her latest boyfriend?”11

“Don’t know yet,” Farley admitted. “The lady was new to the city, lived with a kitten and didn’t entertain male guests—that is according to her closest neighbor. Still, if we can tie up the knifings with the poisonings, the Mayor is going to have to go public.” 12

Benson quickly added, “And whose name gets in the headlines, when he turns over to the Chief the proof that forces the Mayor’s hand.”13

“Cabonetti.” 14

“Not if we come to that conclusion on some weekend when the Deputy Chief is off on his boat. Lousy mobile reception on the Atlantic, ” Benson answered Captain Taylor.15

Silence reigned for a few minutes, as Taylor scanned through the cases in the folder that had grown to novel length. Now and then he shook his head or raised his shoulders. He quickly began to realize the extent of the information, by comparison-shopping and interviews, the detective sergeants with their teams had managed to come up with. 16

“Mark Gheil?” He asked—thought a minute then stated, “The guy looks ripe for it.”17

“I’m not convinced,” Benson said. “If we were looking hard at the radio station crew—I’d almost say the Doc looks better for it. But we were able to clear him. Of course there is Gheil’s girlfriend.”18

“What? Is he dating a gorilla?”19

“Yah, right,” Farley snickered at the Captain’s question. “Little miss Bridgett O’Reilly, all 100 pounds of carrot-top fighting fury goes around knifing other women.”20

“O’Reilly? The red haired attorney that looks like a twelve year old?” Taylor asked. “She’s Gheil’s girlfriend?”21

“Yep, Capt, and we did look at her for the poisonings,” Farley replied. “But now that we have tentatively linked up the knifings, it kind of puts her out of the running. We still have her under surveillance along with a couple of other women.” 22

“So I‘ve heard. You’ve been irritating some VIP’s. You take it easy around Hayden Landers' wife. Janet Landers' maiden name is Jeffers, in case you need an update.”23

“Jeffers?” Benson said as if the name made no impression. Then like a light turning on in his brain he uttered, “Jeffers…not whom I’m thinking?”24

“Exactly who you’re thinking,” Farley said with a grin. He obviously hadn’t been clueless. “Industrial Banking and all those billions.” 25

“What in Hell is she doing with Dale Carter?”26

Farley said, “If you need to ask, you’re in trouble, boy.” And then grinned as Taylor snorted.27

“Jeffers mating with Landers.” The Captain swiveled his head from side to side in disgust as he said, “More like stocks marrying stocks for proxy control. Even if Landers, at somewhere around seventy, owed a vat of Viagra I doubt he could keep up with his bed hopping bride. Since they’ve been together about ten years, apparently, so long as his wife is discreet, her antics don’t bother him. In fact, he is likely to be grateful to this Carter.”28

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Dark haired and petite, Janet Landers fit the profiles of the murdered victims in every way but age. Janet was forty-nine and spent more money in a few months than what the victims earned in a year attempting to stall the aging process. After being questioned by the detectives, she had her personal assistant dig up everything available to the public on the Baine murder case. 31

Michelle Baine was just twenty-five when she’d been found dead on June fifteenth. She died from a drug overdose sometime the morning of the twelfth. At first it was ruled a suicide. Then Janet used her personal influence to delve deeper and discovered that only a few high levels of Law enforcement realized Michelle’s death had been upgraded to murder.32

Could Dale Carter have killed that woman? Had she been looking into the eyes of a killer when he had asked her to lie for him? But no, he hadn’t asked her to lie…he’d simply reminded her that they spent the week of her stepdaughter’s birthday together. 33

She’d joined her young lover in hilarious laughter as he recalled the incident on June eleventh when he’d poured their martinis over their chosen lobsters in hopes to soften the creatures’ exit from life. 34

He’d brought her attention to the fabulous sex they shared that night; and how they hadn’t risen until noon the next day. They’d been together that whole week—if he’d been off by a few hours, surely, that didn't make him guilty of murder.35

That he’d chosen the reminiscence of their playful time to inform her was not unusual. They both enjoyed reliving past experiences before embarking on creating new ones. Of course, even as he informed her of how he’d been forced to give her name to the detectives investigating the Baine case, he assured her it hadn’t meant anything sinister. At the time Dale was quite certain that this Michelle’s death, if it was even the same girl, would prove to be a suicide. They’d actually joked about pitiful Michelle. Dale had entertained her with a rendition of the girl’s likely phone call and it led to several hours of exhausting foreplay… all that took place several days before she’d spoken with the detectives.36

So when Dale arrived today, she hadn’t told him about the earlier visit from the police; nor had he bothered to bring up the situation. Then they’d become far too involved in each other to consider anyone else.37

However, soon lying next to him in the afterglow of sex, she suddenly became frightened. Janet couldn’t help but wonder. Was her lover a killer? Intrigued, and excited, she put her thoughts into rushed and garbled sentences. “You didn’t meet me until nearly one on the twelfth—It was Sunday night we tried to get those lobsters drunk. Did you kill that woman?”38

“What?” Dale sat up and swung his long legs over the edge of the bed. “What?” He repeated. A frown that curved his lips distracted from the handsome features. Then as quickly as it came the frown faded as he listened. 39

“The police…two detectives were here this morning about that girl’s death. They weren’t very nice; one was down right insulting when I told them we were together continuously that whole week. He made me rather nervous and I did some thinking. We didn’t get to the beach house until late on that Saturday. It was Sunday we…”40

Gently Dale touched her lips with a single finger to silence the tirade. “Jan?” His tone verged on disbelief—and his face mirrored the shock he felt that she could think such a thing. “This is really getting to you Darling? I’ll tell you what? If it will make you feel better we’ll go visit those detectives you talked to and correct the time. It isn’t that big a deal. Let’s get dressed.” 41

He flounced naked across the room towards the bath; his shoulders were wide on a back that tapered down into a well-defined waist that emphasized firm tight buttocks and narrow hips. 42

She laid back enjoying the sight of her lover. The remnants of fear made the erotic zones of her flesh tingle bringing her to yet another organism without his physical touch. Suddenly, she realized her worst fear was she would lose him. She forced herself to laugh out loud.43

He paused and looked back at her. 44

“Such a disappointment you are.” She tossed her head so the loose dark hair tumbled about her cheeks and shoulders. She snickered, “ So, you've never killed anyone?” 45

“No, of course not,” replied Dale and he laughed.46

“Do you think that you could?” Her eyes grew bright in competition with her flushed cheeks. Again the sensation of pleasure filled her.47

“Where is this going?” Dale asked. 48

The warning signs were there. Janet’s heady scent was ripe in the air. “I'm just curious,” she said through husky breaths.49

He’d preferred they showered first but he supposed they could forgo it. He walked slowly back to the bed. His masculine pride advertising its ability to commence again, as he informed her, “Well, I think that anybody can kill, given the proper stimulus. Haven't you ever thought about killing someone?” 50

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“I know people who’d kill for those tickets.” Brad Benson teased Joe Farley. “In fact I could make it worth your while if you got suddenly ill.” The two detectives were finishing the long day in their own office, when Joe disclosed he had the tickets for a Yankee’s game.53

Brad had made an overture by inviting Joe to his place the following evening for dinner. It had been his wife’s idea and he knew she’d be pissed when he was forced to tell her she’d been turned down. His partner had a date to take a lady friend to a weeknight ballgame. 54

His working acquaintances weren’t supposed to have girlfriends—period. Brad smiled but didn’t let Joe in on his thoughts. A forty-five year old guy with a girlfriend, not his wife, certainly wasn’t going to endear him to any married policemen’s wife. 55

“Enough for me to retire?” Joe groaned. He finished clearing his desk and locked away the files. “I actually feel sorry for Taylor,” he admitted. “No matter how you sugared over the shit, it will probably be his ass on the line once this goes public.” 56

“Fucking politics shouldn’t factor into law enforcement,” growled Brad. “It has to go public soon. It's my belief that it should have already gone to the press.”57

“Do you think that would have stopped the killings? Christ, it might have egged our killer on? He’s not afraid of publicity so I doubt it could have saved Miss Weinberg's life.”