Body Copy - Michael Craven [43]
“The only reason I took the money is because I found out, personally, that the information I had did not have anything to do with Roger Gale’s murder. They were separate things.”
“So what’s the point in omitting it?”
Bill Peterson said, “Phillip Cook came to me with some information, something from Roger Gale’s past. He gave it to me, I didn’t find it through the evidence, he gave it to me. Said he’d give me the tip if I’d talk to him first about 132
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whatever I found out. So I investigated the thing he told me about, and I came to the conclusion that it had nothing to do with the murder. Then he asked me to make sure it didn’t make it into the file or become public information. I said ‘I can’t do that.’ ”
Peterson shifted his eyes down toward the table. “Then he offered me the money.”
Tremaine listened.
Peterson continued, “I’m not a bad cop, Tremaine. Ask Lopez. But we don’t make squat.”
Tremaine said, “What did you find out?”
“That Roger Gale had had an affair.”
Tremaine listened.
Peterson said, “We thought that might be the case—
obviously, that’s Detective Work 101—but we couldn’t find anything. Then, Phillip Cook told me about this woman.
Told me that about a year prior to his murder, Gale’s wife, Evelyn, had confronted him about some of his late nights, not coming home, whatever. She was suspicious and pissed off. She even told him that she was going to hire a P.I. to find out what he was up to. He denied everything, she hired a detective. Sure enough, he was seeing a woman on the side.
So Evelyn busts him, and he stops. Well, Phillip Cook told me who the woman was, the woman who the P.I. had caught him with, so I could see if there was any connection to his murder. Phillip wanted to keep Gale’s affair quiet, but he wanted to know if this woman might be involved with the killing. So I contacted her. She was a really nice lady. Probably not the brightest bulb on the tree, but really pretty and nice. Worked as the general manager of a bunch of gyms in L.A. L.A. Fitness or something. You following me?”
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Tremaine nodded and ordered a couple more beers for the two of them.
Peterson continued. “So I met with her. She hadn’t seen Roger Gale in over a year, hadn’t talked to him since he’d called off the affair. She was just a cute girl who managed some gyms. When they were together, there were no promises from Roger Gale about leaving his wife or any of that shit. She wasn’t in love with him, they had just boned a couple times. I looked into her. She was rational. She had found out Roger Gale was dead when she read it in the paper. There were no phone calls, nothing. She had no connection to him anymore. None, for sure. So I left it at that.
If Roger Gale’s affairs were what caused him to be killed, it was by somebody else, somebody that we never found.
This girl didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m positive.”
“Does Evelyn know Phillip told you about the affair?”
“Yes.”
Tremaine said, “What’s the girl’s name?”
Bill Peterson said, “I knew you were going to ask me that.”
“I’m not going to sell you out, Peterson. I already know enough to get you into serious shit.”
Peterson said, “You’re just going to talk to her about this? Not Phillip, not anybody else?”
“You have my word.”
“Her name’s Wendy Leahy. I got her number, too.”
Tremaine dropped Peterson off at his two-bedroom town-house in Dunwoody. Peterson, now drunk and more talkative than ever, yapped the whole way back about life in 134
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Atlanta. Tremaine did his best to pay attention while Peterson went through the entire Atlanta Braves lineup, their batting averages, their chances of being traded. Peterson, now with a little buzz, saying stuff like, “Goddamn Bobby Cox. Walks like a goddamn penguin. Goddamn.”
Now in the little rented Geo all by his lonesome, Tremaine thought about what he had learned. Evelyn and Phillip knew about this affair, in their minds, the only one Roger Gale had ever had, and they’d had it looked into.
Peterson assured them it wasn’t connected to the murder.
So, when