Killing the Blues - Michael Brandman [9]
Suitcase didn’t say anything.
“And he tries my patience.”
Suitcase still didn’t say anything.
“I want you on this, Suit.”
“So you think it will escalate?”
“I know it will.”
“How do you know?”
“Coply intuition,” Jesse said.
He pulled to a stop in a no-parking zone directly in front of the Town Hall. They got out of the car and went inside.
Carter Hansen was standing in front of his office when Jesse and Suitcase arrived.
“So now we have a killing on our hands,” Hansen said.
“Why don’t we dispense with the niceties and get right down to business,” Jesse said.
“I’m not a big fan of your sarcasm, Stone,” Hansen said. “What are you going to do?”
Hansen ushered them into his office and sat down at his desk. Jesse and Suitcase sat opposite him.
“We’d love some,” Jesse said.
“Excuse me,” Hansen said.
“Coffee. We’d love some,” Jesse said.
After a moment, Hansen picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“Marilyn, would you please bring some coffee for Chief Stone and Officer Simpson.”
He hung up the phone.
“What are you doing about this killing, Stone,” Hansen said.
“Jesse,” Jesse said. “I much prefer Jesse.”
Hansen glared at him.
“I need you to purchase a couple of vehicles,” Jesse said.
“You need me to do what?”
“I need two vehicles. Both Hondas. One Civic. One Accord. Used.”
“May I ask what for,” Hansen said.
“I’m going to use them as bait.”
“This has something to do with the car thefts,” Hansen said.
“It does,” Jesse said.
“Do you believe that the killing and the car thefts are related?”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
The door to Hansen’s office opened, and a middle-aged woman entered carrying a tray filled with two cups of coffee, a small pitcher of milk, and a handful of sugar packets. She placed it on the sideboard, smiled at the two officers and left.
“Are you planning to catch them by using these vehicles,” Hansen said.
“Not exactly,” Jesse said, sipping his coffee.
“Then what are you planning to do?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“That’s correct,” Jesse said. “How do I go about requisitioning the Hondas?”
“Now, wait just a minute,” Hansen said. “Why do you think that the board of selectmen would purchase these vehicles without knowing what you’re planning to do with them?”
“Because I’m the police chief.”
“Well, I won’t,” Hansen said.
Jesse sat silently.
Suitcase sat silently.
Hansen sat silently.
Finally, Jesse broke the silence.
“You’re going to purchase these vehicles because you have no wish to see car theft and murder destroy the summer season,” he said. “If the media were to connect this killing to our current crime wave, you can just imagine how that story would play. You might as well post a ‘town closed for the summer’ sign in front of the speed trap.”
Hansen continued to sit silently.
Finally, he said, “Have the dealership send the bill to me directly. And in the future, Chief Stone, please refer to it as the entrance to Paradise, not the speed trap.”
9
Jesse parked the cruiser in front of Hathaway’s Previously Owned Quality Vehicles. The building had once been home to a Saturn dealership, but when General Motors pulled the plug, Hasty bought it for what he referred to as “chump change.”
Jesse and Suitcase walked through the showroom and knocked on the door to Hasty’s office, which was open.
“It’s open,” Hasty said.
They entered the office. Hasty looked up at them.
“Am I being arrested,” he said.
“I want to buy a couple of used Hondas,” Jesse said, as he and Suitcase sat down.
“Hondas,” Hasty said. “Forget Hondas. Let me set you up with an outstanding pair of Lincolns.”
“Forget the sales pitch, Hasty,” Jesse said. “Hondas. Vintage 2005, give or take. Two of ’em.”
“What do you want with two Hondas,” Hasty said. “Is this related to those car thefts?”
“None of your business,” Jesse said. “Do you have the Hondas, or do I have to go to O’Brien’s?”
“Is he always this personable,” Hasty said to Suitcase.
Suitcase smiled.
“I don’t have them in stock,” Hasty said. “Give me a day or two. I’ll get them. Who’s paying, by the way?