The Garden of Betrayal - Lee Vance [74]
“We find the guy, and I’ll make the case. One way or another. That is what I do.”
“Always? Every time?”
“No,” he admitted. “Lot of random bullshit happens when you get into court. But the nice thing about scumbags is that they tend to do the same bad things over and over, so you almost always get another crack at them. I got a list. Some names I put on the list, some names I got from Joe, some names he got from his old partner. I know where they live, and I have the precinct cops keep an eye on them, and I watch the computer for crimes that fit their pattern. Most of them will end up in jail eventually. And the ones I don’t put behind bars I’ll pass along to my last partner, when it’s time for me to retire. That’s how things work.”
“Not good enough,” I told him, thinking about Claire again. “I need this settled. For me, and for my family. We find this guy and it looks like we can’t make a case, I’m going to have to deal with it myself.”
“And what about Claire and Kate?”
“What about them?”
“You can’t take care of them from jail.”
It was a testament to our friendship that he was able to home in on my vulnerable spot.
“True. But who’s going to know?”
“Me.”
“Right. But I’m not asking you to get involved. If and when the time comes, all you’ll have to do is look the other way.”
Reggie turned off the engine and opened his door.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s walk.”
We made our way to the river and then turned left onto the esplanade. The wind was up and the temperature had dropped. I flipped the cigarette away, buttoned my coat to the collar, and buried my hands in my pockets.
“Vinny tell you anything else?”
“Where Frank usually dumped the cars after he stripped them. In the swampland off the Arthur Kill, near Prall’s Island, on the western edge of Staten Island. He gave me a pretty good description. I’ll get a search team out there tomorrow.”
“You think they’ll be able to find the BMW?”
He shrugged.
“Cars last a long time in the water.”
I wanted to ask about bodies but couldn’t make myself say the words.
“Tell you what’s bothering me,” he continued. “Beyond your going vigilante. Vinny said the key was in the ignition.”
“So?”
“So, when the homicide detectives searched the room where Munoz was murdered, they found the key to his brother-in-law’s car in his pants pocket. Where’d the second key come from?”
I gave it a few seconds’ thought and came up empty.
“No clue. I can ask Gallegos if Munoz had more than one copy.”
“You think Gallegos was straight with you, right?”
“Absolutely,” I said, remembering the expression on his face when I’d told him about Kyle.
“Which makes me wonder about the girlfriend out on Long Island, the one Munoz was supposedly smacking around. Detectives interviewed the girlfriend’s neighbors. The neighbors said they heard a lot of fight noise coming from her apartment. Said she usually wore dark glasses and floppy hats but that they saw bruises on her face and arms. Doesn’t sound right if Gallegos was telling the truth about his brother-in-law being a kind and gentle person.”
“And the girlfriend would have had access to his keys,” I said, beginning to understand what Reggie was thinking. “It’s a big coincidence that she disappeared the same night he was murdered.”
“Exactly. The file has fingerprints for her that they lifted from the apartment. I’ll run a check in the morning, see if she’s turned up in the system.”
We reached the end of South Cove and stopped by the railing, facing south toward the Statue of Liberty.
“The big picture still doesn’t make sense to me. What does any of this have to do with Kyle?”
Reggie tossed his cigarette butt into the water.
“Don’t know yet. Police work is like that sometimes—you figure out the what before the why. All you can do is keep pulling at loose strings and see what happens. You think you’ll be able to learn anything about that bribe Gallegos mentioned?”
“I got a decent shot at it. I’ll start digging first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Good.