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Personal Justice
  • Текст добавлен: 9 октября 2016, 14:38

Текст книги "Personal Justice"


Автор книги: Rayven T. Hill



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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter 17

Tuesday, 4:05 p.m.

IT TOOK LESS THAN five minutes for first responders to appear on the scene and secure the building after Annie called 9-1-1 from Chrissy’s house next door. Officers searched the Lincoln house thoroughly before they declared it clear. The would-be murderer had fled.

Jake had returned home while the search was underway and Hank arrived shortly thereafter.

Annie looked at her husband, sitting on the edge of the couch, his face still showing the horror he felt at the sudden discovery of his home surrounded by cops.

“I had no idea what was going on,” he said. “Naturally, I feared the worst.” He turned to Hank, standing in the doorway. “I went to fill up with gas, and when I got back …”

“I think you should get a better lock for the back door, Jake,” Hank said. “It looks like the guy was a pro.”

Annie tried to control her trembling body. When she had first seen the killer in the mirror, she reacted almost without thought. Her first instinct was to get out of the house. As she dashed down the hallway, she saw him standing, a gun in his hand, and knew he meant business. She didn’t have time to be afraid, but now, thinking back on her close call, she was terrified, and she still shivered all over.

“What confuses me the most, is why,” she said. “Is this related to the Shaft case, or something else?”

“What concerns me more is, the guy might be back,” Jake said.

“We have to stop him before he does.” Hank sat on the couch and looked at Annie. “Did you see his face?”

“Just briefly.”

“Do you think you could recognize him again?”

Annie shook her head. “I don’t think so. All I know is, it was a man, and he wore dark clothes.”

“Hair color?”

“Not sure. I think he wore a cap. He wasn’t especially big or small. That’s about all I can tell you. I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.”

An investigator appeared in the doorway. “No unknown prints on the back door or the basement door, Hank. In fact, we checked the whole main floor and nothing.”

Hank bobbed his head up and down. “I expected as much. This guy might be a pro. He likely wore gloves.”

“Do you think it might be Norton?” Jake asked.

Hank pursed his lips and looked at the ceiling a moment. “Perhaps. But for what reason?”

“Maybe he thinks Annie knows something?”

Hank looked at Annie. “Do you?”

Annie shrugged. “Not that I can think of.” She paused. “I think he might have been after both of us, and thought Jake would be here as well.”

“If it was Norton, how would he know we were looking into the case?” Jake asked.

“Lisa Krunk,” Hank said.

Jake looked confused. “Lisa Krunk?”

“From the interview she did with Maria Shaft. They’ve been running teasers all day. The complete story is scheduled for six, and your names were mentioned.”

Annie’s brow wrinkled in disgust. “That woman is always sticking her beak in where she’s not wanted.”

Hank nodded. “And a murder always catches everyone’s attention.” He looked at Annie. “Lisa might be a royal pain, but she’s only doing her job as a reporter.”

“So the whole city knows about this case now,” Jake said.

“Afraid so,” Hank said. “And if it was Norton, we have no way to connect the dots. Annie said he fired two, maybe three shots through the window, but no bullets were recovered. Assuming they didn’t hit anything, they’re probably halfway across the city. So with no bullets, no fingerprints, and since Annie didn’t see his face.” He shrugged. “We don’t have much.”

Annie glanced over as she heard footsteps on the stairs. In a moment, Matty poked his head into the living room. “Can I come out of my room now?”

Annie looked at Jake, then back at Matty. “Yes, but stay in the house.”

Matty leaped onto the couch between Hank and Jake. “What’s going on here, anyway?”

Everyone sat back and looked at Matty, unsure how to answer. Finally, Jake said, “Someone was in the house while we were away, but he’s gone now, and everything’s okay.”

“How did he get in?” Matty asked.

“The back door.”

Matty’s face brightened. “Did you check for fingerprints?”

Hank grinned. “We checked. No prints.”

Matty frowned. “What about the neighbors? Maybe somebody saw him.”

“You might be right. We have officers checking up and down the street.” Hank paused and looked intently at Matty. “Do you have any more ideas?”

“Not right now.”

Hank looked at Annie. “I’ll make sure officers watch the house at all times until we catch him.”

“I hope it won’t be long,” Annie said.

“I suppose you have no new leads on the Shaft case?” Jake asked.

“Not yet. We’re still hoping to find Norton’s car. It has to be somewhere.”

Annie turned to Hank. “It skipped my mind with all this going on and I forgot to mention it. We went to see Tammy Norton. It turns out she and her husband don’t get along as well as she let on. We finally got her to admit …” She paused and glanced at Matty. “Her husband … doesn’t treat her too well.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Annie nodded. “We saw some … evidence on her face, and she admitted it.”

Matty slid off the couch and wandered toward the kitchen.

Annie watched him leave, and then leaned toward Hank and whispered. “She had a black eye and a bruise on her chin.”

Hank sat back and crossed his arms, the fingers of one hand tickling his chin. “So, he’s violent.”

“At least, toward her,” Jake said. “But she still covers up for him.”

Hank looked at the floor, shaking his head slowly. “This case is getting more confusing all the time. I’m trying to piece everything together into some plausible scenario, but nothing fits. And I can’t find anything that even remotely looks like a motive.”

“What about that 9-ball tournament that shows Shaft and Norton had a relationship?” Annie asked. “Anything on that yet?”

“I have plans to go to the pub where the tournament was held. Talk to the organizer and any other people either one of them might’ve come into contact with.”

“That should keep you busy for a while,” Jake said.

Hank shrugged and stood. “I’m a detective and that’s what detectives do. I have to take the boring jobs along with the rest.” He grinned. “Besides, I have King to help me.” He paused. “I haven’t heard back from him yet, so I assume he doesn’t have any earth-shattering news, but as soon as he returns, I’ll set him to work again.”

“And I plan on going over everything we know,” Annie said, as she stood and followed Hank to the door. “Maybe I’ll come up with a new approach.”

She had no idea what that approach would be, but there had to be an answer somewhere.


Chapter 18

Tuesday, 5:59 p.m.

JAKE SWITCHED on the television and stretched out on the couch, his back against the armrest. The story by Lisa Krunk was scheduled for 6:00, and though he was disgusted at the way she sensationalized every news report, it pertained to the case they were working on and he didn’t want to miss it.

Matty lay on the floor, a cushion under his head. He laid his comic book aside and watched the final commercial before the evening news began.

Annie came into the room and sat in her armchair, placing a cup of coffee on the stand beside the chair. She leaned forward slightly, her hands in her lap, and looked at the TV, waiting for the broadcast to begin.

The Channel 7 Action News logo flashed, teasers ran, music played as the anchor shuffled his papers, the camera zoomed in, and the newscast began.

“Our top story: The senseless murder of a Richmond Hill man yesterday has struck fear into citizens of this city. With the story, here’s Lisa Krunk.”

The scene showed a gurney, covered with a white sheet, being wheeled from an alleyway toward a waiting ambulance. Yellow tape could be seen in the foreground, flapping gently in the evening breeze.

The camera panned, showing a car parked awkwardly in the middle of the street, its door wide open, detectives and officers milling about everywhere, the entire area cordoned off. Lisa began her voiceover as the camera continued to display the crime scene.

“This city was shocked to hear of a murder late yesterday evening. Thirty-five year old Werner Shaft was gunned down, receiving several shots before finally succumbing to his wounds. The unknown assailant fled the scene leaving police baffled by the killing. There didn’t appear to be any witnesses to this tragedy.”

Lisa’s face appeared on television screens throughout the city, standing at the same scene, the area now cleared as if nothing had happened the day before. She continued.

“Today, everything’s back to normal at the place where this grisly crime took place, but the owners of these establishments are on their guard. Police declined to comment earlier, but I have been told that, as of today, they have evidence pointing directly to one suspect.”

A picture of a man appeared on the screen. Jake recognized the face from the photo in the police reports as Lisa continued.

“Thirty-three year old Michael Norton is wanted for the murder of Shaft. Norton is an ex-convict, sentenced several years ago for burglary, and subsequently spent time in federal custody.”

The TV showed Lisa knocking on the door of the Norton house. The door opened a crack and then closed abruptly. Lisa turned around, the camera zoomed in on her, and she shrugged.

“The Norton family refused to comment, but sources state the family claims no knowledge of the whereabouts of this dangerous man. The refusal of Norton’s wife to talk to me leads me to believe she’s covering for her husband, and though there’s no evidence against her, police are looking at Tammy Norton closely. She’s certainly a person of interest in this case.

“Sources state it’s only a matter of time before this dangerous man is apprehended, and he’s believed to be nearby, possibly still in the immediate area.

“A search of the Norton residence this morning resulted in no further information on the fugitive’s location, and his wife declined to state whether or not she knew of his plans and where he might be hiding.”

Jake dropped his feet off the couch, sat forward, and pointed to the television. “She’s making this stuff up,” he said. “How can she draw a conclusion like that because Tammy Norton doesn’t want to comment?”

“She’s just being Lisa,” Annie said.

“Sounds more like slander to me.”

The television screen flickered and the scene moved to the inside of a house. Jake recognized Maria Shaft, sitting in a chair, the camera trained on her worried face. The view pulled back revealing a man standing at her side. It was Rocky Shaft, his thick brows in a tight line.

Lisa continued.

“I spoke earlier with the family of the victim, Maria Shaft, and the victim’s brother, Rocky. Rocky had this to say:”

“We want that killer caught. If I get ahold of you, I’ll break your worthless neck.”

“Maria, what can you tell me about the relationship between your husband and the suspect, Michael Norton?”

“There’s no relationship and there hasn’t been for years. My husband was a good man and he didn’t deserve this.”

The scene changed to a shot of Lisa, standing in front of the police station, a smug look on her face as she spoke.

“My sources inside this building inform me Mrs. Shaft’s statement is not true; there is in fact a relationship between the victim and Michael Norton, going back several years. The victim was Norton’s accomplice in the burglary case, and both men spent some time in prison.”

Jake tried to remain patient when a photo of him and Annie came on the screen and Lisa continued.

“Sources also confirm Lincoln Investigations, whom you will all recognize as being involved in several high profile cases lately, have now turned their attention to this baffling mystery.

“Viewers will remember, the Lincolns, along with this reporter, were instrumental in bringing a killer to justice in recent history, and I’m willing to aid the police with my expertise in investigative journalism once again.”

Annie almost choked on her coffee. “She’s mighty high on herself.”

Jake laughed. “She’s a narcissist with an ego that just won’t quit.”

A photo of Norton came on the screen. It was his mug shot, taken several years ago when he was first arrested.

Lisa said,

“If you have seen this man, or have any knowledge as to his whereabouts, I urge you to contact the police immediately.

“I will be following this story closely, and will bring you breaking news as it happens.

“For Channel 7 Action News, I’m Lisa Krunk.”

Jake switched off the television, leaned back, and said, “There wasn’t much new there. Mostly Lisa blowing her own horn, but Rocky Shaft was pretty angry.”

“We’d better find Norton before he does. Rocky threatened to kill Norton, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried.”

Jake looked at Annie. “I wonder why she always mentions our names.”

“So she can claim credit. Whether it’s us or the police, she has a need to feel involved,” Annie said. She sat back, took the last sip of her coffee, and sat the cup on the stand. “I think she believes her own exaggerations.”

“She doesn’t seem like a nice woman,” Matty said, as he stood and wandered away.

Annie laughed. “From the mouth of babes.”

“Even Matty can see right through her,” Jake said. “But forget about her. We need to concentrate on finding Michael Norton.”

“Let me sleep on it,” Annie said. “I’ll come up with something tomorrow.”

Jake was pretty sure she would.


Chapter 19

Tuesday, 6:13 p.m.

HANK LOOKED up as Detective King approached his desk and flopped into a chair. The cop looked worn out, grumpy, and in need of a change of clothes—nothing unusual there.

“No luck today, Hank,” King said. He yawned and leaned back, dropping one foot on the edge of Hank’s desk. “Nobody has seen or heard from Norton in a while.”

Hank dropped his pen and sat back. He had hoped to hear some good news, anything they could run with, but in reality, he wasn’t surprised. Norton was lying low, not dumb enough to hide out in any place conspicuous.

At least he’d gotten away from King for most of the day. That was always good.

“Did you hit them all?” Hank asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“Every one. Some I had to track down at work, but I got to them all.”

“Then you might as well go home for the night,” Hank said, waving his hand. “I’m about done here myself, and then I’ll be heading out.”

King dropped his foot and leaned forward, poised to leave. “What’s up for tomorrow?”

“If nothing else comes up we’ll hit Smokie’s Bar,” Hank said. He told King about the tournament Shaft and Norton were involved in. “We’ll talk to the owner and see what he can tell us.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun,” King said dryly as he stood and headed away. “See you tomorrow, Hank.”

Hank leaned over his desk again. He wanted to get the reports out of the way to clear the day tomorrow. He looked up again. King was on his way back.

“Diego wants to see us a minute.”

Hank looked across the precinct floor. Diego stood in the doorway of his office looking their way. Hank tossed his pen down and pushed his chair back. He followed King into Diego’s office.

The captain sat at his desk and motioned toward a chair. “Sit down.”

Hank took the only free chair and stretched out. King stood by the end of Diego’s desk, his arms crossed, a bored look on his face.

“Fill me in, guys,” Diego said, looking back and forth between the detectives.

“Not much to tell, Captain,” Hank began. “I’m still hoping to find some sign of Norton, or his car at least, but he’s burrowed himself deep.”

Diego nodded and looked at King. “Nothing from me,” King said, shrugging a shoulder. “Been out all day talking to anyone he knows. Came up empty.”

The captain sat back. “So what you guys are telling me is you’re at a dead end?”

Hank nodded. “Not quite. We have a couple more leads to follow up on.”

“What about the guy who invaded the Lincoln house? Anything on him?” Diego asked.

“Nothing. But he seems like a pro. I have officers watching the house round the clock, so if he returns we’ll nab him.”

What about you, King?” Diego asked with a deep frown. “Don’t you have any CIs who might know of a hitman in the neighborhood?”

“I’ll check in with them tomorrow,” King said. “But most of my CIs aren’t in the murder business. Mostly drugs and petty crime.”

Diego sat back and combed at his bristling mustache with two fingers. “That’s not the only reason I wanted to see you guys. I want to know what you think of Lisa Krunk’s story.” He motioned toward a small television, now turned off, sitting on a shelf along one wall. “Did either of you catch it? Lisa made a few pointed accusations. Any truth to them?”

“I caught the teasers earlier in the day,” Hank said. “Rocky Shaft is pretty angry. Can’t say I blame him. He’s got to be under a lot of stress right now. Other than that, I didn’t hear anything that excited me.”

“Lisa is claiming Tammy Norton is harboring her husband, covering up for him,” Diego said.

Hank sighed. “That’s just Lisa. I can’t find any evidence of that. Mrs. Norton wants her husband found. Says he’s innocent, and the only way to prove it is to find him.”

King snickered. “Of course he’s innocent. They always are.”

Captain Diego ignored King’s comment and kept his eyes on Hank. “What about Maria Shaft’s claim there was no relationship between her husband and Michael Norton?”

Hank laughed. “It’s not quite the way Lisa made it sound, Captain. She left out some important information. A little clever editing on her part. I don’t have much faith in Lisa’s broadcasts no matter how convincing they sound.”

Diego stared thoughtfully at Hank a moment before clearing his throat. “I want you to tell the Lincolns to back out of this one. They might be private detectives, but they’re citizens, and there’s already been an attempt on Annie’s life. I don’t need any more bodies.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Captain,” King said.

Hank frowned at King and then leaned forward. “They aren’t going to want to do that, Captain. When their lives are threatened, they get more determined.”

Diego removed his cap and brushed back his hair with one hand. His eyes narrowed and the muscles of his jowls worked. Finally, he dropped his cap back on, adjusted it in place, and spoke. “I realize you don’t have the time to keep an eye on them, but make sure they stay out of the way. I’ve given them a lot of leeway in the past, and I’ll admit, they’ve been helpful at times, but …”

“And they’ve been helpful this time too, Captain. Annie’s the one who got Tammy Norton to admit her husband beats her up. I didn’t see any evidence of that.” Hank paused and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’ll keep an eye on them, but I don’t think we can tell them what they can and cannot do. As long as they stay within the law.”

“Fair enough,” Diego said. “But make sure they don’t keep any evidence from you.”

“They never do, Captain. They’ve always been forthcoming. I think their history shows that.” He paused. “Why would they keep anything back? They not only want to see justice done, but they have clients to take care of. It’s their job.”

“I realize I can’t keep them out of this entirely, but tell them to be careful. We already suspect Norton killed at least one person, and we know he beats his wife. If he’s the one who made the attempt on Annie, either himself, or with a pro, then he needs to be stopped ASAP. He’s proven himself to be a violent person.”

“We’ll get him,” Hank said.

Diego dropped his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers under his chin. He didn’t share his thoughts, but rather dismissed the detectives with a wave. “Go home now, guys. You can get back at it in the morning.”

Hank stood. “I’ll finish the reports then I’ll be out of here.” He turned to go. “Goodnight, Captain.”

Diego waved again, his eyes buried in a file folder. “Good night.”

King followed Hank from the office, crossed the quiet room, and went out the front door.

Hank returned to his desk and sat, pulling a file toward him. He looked at his watch. This was going to be an early night for a change. He would have time to drop by and see Amelia before going home, and he hoped to get an early start the next morning.


Chapter 20

DAY 3 – Wednesday, 8:35 a.m.

JAKE HUSTLED MATTY and Kyle out the front door of the house and into the Firebird. He glanced toward the patrol car parked at the curb. The same two cops had been there most of the night, keeping a close eye on the house.

One of the officers called Jake’s phone from time to time, keeping in touch, reassuring them, and checking to see if everything was all right inside the house.

Jake started the vehicle and pulled from the driveway, stopping beside the cruiser. He rolled down his window. “You guys okay?”

The cop in the driver seat nodded. “All quiet last night. Everything all right in the house?”

Jake nodded, and the other cop looked over and stifled a yawn.

“Annie’s making you guys a cup of coffee. She’ll be out in a minute.”

“Sounds good,” the driver said, looking at his watch. “We still have a couple hours to go before some fresh guys get here.”

Jake waved a hand and pulled away. He appreciated the watch put on the house, but didn’t expect the would-be killer to return. Nonetheless, they were threatened, and the safety of his family was his top priority.

North Richmond Public School was only two blocks from the house and Matty usually walked to school with Kyle, his best friend who lived next door to the Lincolns, but today Jake wasn’t taking any chances.

He drove to the school, pulled in front, and escorted the boys to the door of the building. He waited until they were inside before returning to the car.

He opened the vehicle door and glanced around. It was a warm day, too warm for anything other than a t-shirt, and certainly too warm to be wearing a ski mask. And the man now approaching him from the rear of the car not only wore a ski mask, but the upraised pistol in his hand showed he meant business.

Jake dropped to the ground as the weapon spat lead. The bullet zipped over his head and through the open window of the car.

The second shot followed immediately, but by then, Jake had rolled to the side. He stumbled to the front of his vehicle on all fours. He heard footsteps, following, relentless. He dove to the opposite side of the car and looked around for some means of protection.

The vehicle wouldn’t cover him for long. The assassin only needed one clear shot and it would be all over.

His first instinct was to run directly away from the car, toward the school, but his second instinct took over. There were kids that way. A lot of kids, and a stray shot could hit any one of them.

He took a chance and poked his head up. The gunman was at the front of the vehicle. One more step and Jake would be in the open, totally vulnerable.

He dove to the back of the vehicle as the shooter approached the side, the deadly weapon ready to fire at a split-second’s notice.

Jake sprang to his feet and raced across the street, running at an angle, praying the assassin wasn’t adept enough to hit a moving target.

A bullet whined past his head and he ducked, hit the ground, and rolled behind a tree at the edge of the sidewalk. He was safe for a couple of seconds, but a quick glance around the tree trunk showed his assailant still approaching.

He turned and raced down the sidewalk, but in a moment the shooter was directly behind him. Another bullet whistled past, dangerously close. He was fully exposed, and now the gunman was running after him—that would throw off his aim, but how long would it be until a bullet found its mark?

People were on the sidewalk ahead of him as well as across the street. Many ducked out of sight when they heard the shots, most still in danger from a stray bullet.

He dipped to the left and ran toward the side of a house. That would be safer for him and everyone around, and he hoped there was no one behind the dwelling.

Keeping low, he reached the side of the house and glanced over his shoulder. His pursuer was still coming, never giving up, determined and deadly.

He dashed to the rear of the house and looked around for a weapon, but with only seconds to spare, there was no time to waste.

Should he circle the house? The killer might have the same idea and could turn back and cut him off. He made a quick decision and ran to the rear of the property. He hopped a small fence dividing it from the neighbor behind, racing along the side of the house toward the next street over.

Another shot exploded, this time flattening itself against the brick wall of the house, inches from his head.

This maniac was persistent and seemed to be determined.

Jake finally reached the street and he crossed over, ducked behind a tree, and glanced back. The madman pursued.

An idea struck him. Carver Street and their house was one block over, on the next street parallel to where he was. He whipped out his cell phone, found the last inbound caller, and hit redial.

“Everything okay?” the officer asked.

“It’s Jake. I’m half a block away on foot and I’m being pursued by a gunman.” He took another glance and crossed the front yard of the house, heading toward Carver.

“I’ll be coming from beside the house to your left about three doors up,” Jake spoke quickly into the phone. “And he’s behind me.”

“We’re on it.” Jake heard the car door open. The officers would be prepared.

He glanced back as he hopped the hedge between the two dwellings. The hitman was close. He had lost some ground as he made the call. The gunman stopped and leveled his weapon.

Jake ducked as the assailant fired and the bullet missed its target.

He sprang to his feet, crossed the back yard at an angle, and raced up the side of the house. Carver Street was directly ahead. Just a few more seconds.

He hit the sidewalk, running fast, and crossed the street. A sideways glance showed the gunman but a moment behind.

Down the street, he saw the police cruiser parked in front of his house. The officers were out of the vehicle, heading toward him a step at a time, their guns drawn and ready. They’d seen him.

He ducked behind a tree and spun back around. The hitman had reached the sidewalk across the street, stopped, and then stepped into the street, sighting down the barrel of his weapon, directly at the tree where Jake waited.

He glanced to his left. The officers were fifty feet away, still approaching.

Forty feet.

Thirty feet.

The killer spun his head to the left and stopped short in the middle of the street.

“Put your weapon down,” an officer yelled. “Now.”

The gunman whirled to face the cops, crouched, and fired a shot. It missed, and the officer fired back, the bullet whining through the spot the shooter occupied a split second before. The hitman leaped aside, sprang to his feet, and ran for cover, back the way he came.

Jake watched the officers pursue the maniac until they were out of sight.

Several minutes later, they returned empty handed.

The cops had called for backup. The surrounding streets would be thoroughly searched, but the would-be killer was undoubtedly long gone.


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