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iranda.” Wally came to Matt’s defense. “It made sense to me. He’s right, there is something wrong with this guy. I agreed that it might shake him up, and I told him not to get into the murder itself. Either the Inferno murders, or Kellog’s.”
“Then, Wallace,” Washington pronounced, “the two of you were teetering on the precipice, in grave risk of providing a defense counsel six weeks out of law school with an issue that would cloud the minds of the jurors.”
Washington let the criticism sink in for a moment, then went on: “Having said that, it was not a bad idea. Professor Washington just wanted to make the point in his Homicide 101 Tutorial for Detective Payne that there are enormous risks in dancing around Miranda. In my experience, the more heinous the crime alleged, the greater the concern from the bench about the rights of the accused.”
“I didn’t turn Matt loose, Jason,” Milham said, his annoyance at the lecture visible and growing as he spoke. “And he wasn’t a loose cannon. I was prepared to shut him off if he was getting into something he shouldn’t have. I didn’t have to.”
“I intended no offense, Wallace,” Washington said. “Nevertheless, my observations were in order. It would offend me if, because of some procedural error, Mr. Foley and Mr. Atchison got away with what they did.”
“OK,” Milham said.
“I have the feeling that neither of you feel Foley was involved with Officer Kellog’s murder. Is that—”
“He’s tied to the Inferno,” Milham said. “Atchison says he doesn’t know Frankie, and Frankie tells us he’s going to work there as a bouncer.”
“Unless, of course, he is in fact a contract killer,” Washington said. “While I was waiting for you two to show up, I considered the anomaly of a nice Irish boy being so employed by the mob. Unusual, of course, but not impossible. I read the 75-49s on the Kellog job. There was nothing of great value stolen from the house. The only thing Mrs. Kellog reported as missing were her wedding and engagement rings. She left them there when she left Officer Kellog. Some other minor items are missing: a silver frame, holding their wedding picture; a portable television; and a silver coffee service. The street value of everything would not exceed two or three hundred dollars. And, of course, the tapes from the telephone recording device. Not enough for a burglar to kill over. The manner, the professional manner, so to speak, in which Officer Kellog was shot suggests assassination, rather than anything else. Perhaps the tapes were what his murderer was after.”
“Narcotics Five Squad?” Milham said doubtfully. “Jason, I have trouble thinking…”
“As do I. Unless what was on those tapes was so incriminating that desperate measures were required. Or…”
“Or what?”
“What was on those tapes was incriminating vis-à-vis the mob. The decision was made to eliminate Officer Kellog and get the tapes. And to put distance between the mob and any Narcotics involvement, or involvement between the mob and the Narcotics Five Squad, an outside contract killer was employed. Perhaps Matt’s admirer. I don’t think we should conclude that Mr. Foley was not involved with Officer Kellog’s murder.”
“If this character is a hit man, and I have trouble with that—he’s not that smart—why the hell is he working at Wanamaker’s?” Milham said.
“Interesting question,” Washington said. “There are all sorts of possible explanations. For example, let us suppose that Mr. Foley has been engaged, by the mob, as a loan shark among the Wanamaker’s warehouse labor force. He secured the repayment of a loan under such violent conditions that it came to the attention of the mob that here was a young man of reliability and ambition, perhaps suited for more important things.”
“Hell, why not?” Milham said.
“Letting my imagination run free,” Washington said, “I tried to come up with a credible scenario as to why Mr. Atchison lied to us about Mr. Foley. He is no fool, and he must have known that we would learn from the bartender that Mr. Foley was in there that night. Let us suppose that Mr. Atchison knows, or suspects, that Mr. Foley has a mob connection. Let us suppose further that Mr. Atchison has been having difficulty of some sort with the mob. Or Mr. Marcuzzi was in some sort of difficulty with them. Mr. Marcuzzi was hit, with Mrs. Atchison as an innocent bystander, so to speak. Mr. Atchison was spared, with a warning, explicit or implied, to keep his mouth shut. Knowing or suspecting that Mr. Foley has a mob connection, he was reluctant to point a finger at him. I was taken with his lack of concern for Mr. Marcuzzi. It is possible that he knew what Marcuzzi had been up to and decided that he had gotten his just deserts.”
“You mean, you don’t think Frankie did the Inferno job?” Matt asked.
“I didn’t say that,” Washington said. “What I’m saying is that we have yet to come up with a motive for Mr. Atchison being involved in the deaths of his wife and partner. No large amount of recently acquired insurance, et cetera, et cetera.”
“And if we confront Atchison with lying about Foley, he confesses to running a loan-shark operation with Foley as the enforcer,” Matt said.
“Precisely,” Washington said. “And we have little physical evidence, except for the bullets removed from the bodies of Mrs. Atchison and Mr. Marcuzzi. That’s useless unless we have the guns and can tie them to Foley or somebody else. Maybe there were two robbers.”
“Well, we could send Matt to have a drink with Frankie and talk about guns,” Milham said jokingly.
“He might not be too sharp, but he’s shrewd,” Matt said. “I don’t think I’d get anything from him.”
“Neither do I, but let’s think that through,” Washington said.
“Jesus!” Matt said. “Can I let my imagination run free?”
“Certainly.”
“Foley likes to talk. Boast. I have the feeling that working in Wanamaker’s embarrasses him.”
“So?”
“So maybe he would boast to somebody else.”
“I don’t follow you, Matthew,” Washington said. There was a tone of impatience in his voice.
