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8
Porte Franklyn
Justice Plaza
Central Police Station
WEDNESDAY MORNING
After introductions, Lieutenant Jeter Thorpe escorted FBI agents Dillon Savich and Griffin Hammersmith and federal prosecutor Pepper Jersik to a small interrogation room. He offered coffee, said in the same breath he’d drink the station coffee only if he was dying of thirst, and then it’d be iffy.
All three accepted bottled water.
Jeter eyed the man who’d called him the previous day to introduce himself and tell him Eliot Ness had sent him the evidence. Savich was a big man, looked as tough as Jeter’s bulldog, Bruce. He had a cop’s smart eyes, looked like he’d seen most everything one human being could do to another. And there was something else in Savich’s eyes as he looked Jeter over, something well-controlled and intimidating, something unexpected that made Jeter think Savich knew things other people didn’t, saw things other people didn’t. It was odd, but it was true.
He shook Savich’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you in person, Agent Savich. Needless to say, I’ve heard of you. I don’t know if you’re aware the evidence in the envelope has already been distributed to the commonwealth attorney’s prosecutors, as well as our own chief of police. Actually, my only direct role is I happened to be there. You mentioned when you called me yesterday that Eliot Ness’s letter to you mentioned me by name.”
“He obviously knows you, trusts you, and wants you involved, which means you know him. Have you thought it might be possible your being at the station wasn’t an accident, that Eliot Ness knew you’d be there?”
“But I can’t imagine who or how—” Jeter shook his head. “I suppose it’s possible.” He turned to Pepper. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had a federal prosecutor grace our police station, Ms. Jersik. I like your name, Pepper, takes me back to my mom’s goulash.”
“Wouldn’t that be paprika?”
Jeter grinned at this awesome woman. “It’s surely a pleasure, Ms. Jersik.” He took her hand, realized he didn’t want to let it go. He felt something strange stir down deep, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, not since Judy’s death six years ago. Jersik was over six feet tall in her three-inch black boots, at his eye level, with amazing light hair that looked nearly silver in the interview room’s high-beam fluorescents. Her eyes were light blue, crystal clear, and as smart as Savich’s. Jeter thought of an Amazon, then decided she was more of a Valkyrie. He looked down at her hand and saw no wedding ring, quickly let her hand go when he realized what he was doing.
He turned to Agent Griffin Hammersmith. He knew to his boots this man was potent with women, was so good-looking even Jeter’s sour stiff-necked secretary, Ms. Plimm, had eyed him like a chocolate bar. He was tall and fit, looked like he could handle himself. Like Savich, his eyes were all cop. It was odd but Jeter sensed the same unexpected and inexplicable something he’d felt when he looked at Savich, something they shared he didn’t understand. “Welcome, Agent Hammersmith.” They shook hands. “Please, all of you sit down.”
When they were all seated, Savich said, “I understand the evidence Eliot Ness delivered has already been widely distributed. No harm in that, except Grissom is likely to get his hands on a copy that much sooner. I did get a text last night from Ness, from a burner phone I couldn’t trace. He implied Hailstock would be in no hurry to prosecute Grissom. That’s why Ms. Jersik is with us. And it brings up the interesting question of how Eliot Ness knew so quickly Hailstock was a problem, or do you already know why that is, Officer Thorpe?”
Jeter smiled. “Why not first names? It’ll make things easier. No, I don’t know how.” He shrugged. “I’ve got to say at the very least it shows our vigilante has someone giving him inside information about the commonwealth attorney’s office. And the evidence—it’s very detailed, very lawyerly. What do you think of it, Ms. Jersik, ah, Pepper?”
Pepper, no idiot, knew Lieutenant Jeter Thorpe was interested in her, no missing that. She didn’t mind. He was big, taller than she was, solid. He had kind, ancient eyes, a soft hazel. His dark brown hair was a little on the long side, with a few strings of silver at his temples. He had no beard, a refreshing change from a lot of men these days. It suited him. Jeter, she liked his name; it brought to mind chowing down pizza, maybe riding on the back of his motorcycle, laughing wildly into the wind. Yes, a lot of laughter. She pulled herself back, cleared her throat. “I’ve gone over the evidence Eliot Ness sent to Dillon. Of course I concentrated on the drugs charges, which are federal. It’s really amazing work. Bad luck for Grissom he got in Eliot Ness’s crosshairs.”
Jeter leaned forward, clasped his hands on the desk. “Very glad to hear you say that.”
Savich nodded. “Okay, why don’t we begin with the star of the show, Jeter—Elson Grissom. Tell us about him.”
“We’ve suspected Grissom is involved in drug distribution since before I joined the force. We haven’t charged him because he’s been too well insulated, with too many players between him and the streets where the drugs are sold. Before he was delivered here to us, we’ve never had anything solid enough. And we never would have been able to gather much of that evidence Eliot Ness gave us without getting warrants we didn’t have the grounds to ask for.” Jeter leaned back in his chair. “I find myself wondering why Eliot Ness chose Grissom. Because we have another half-dozen high-profile possibilities just as bad as Grissom.”
Griffin said, “Maybe it was something personal, Jeter.”
Jeter said, “That’s possible, I hadn’t thought about that.”
Savich said, “Let’s turn to Grissom’s unorthodox appearance zip-tied to the railing downstairs. We understand prosecutor Kirra Mandarian was in-house and acted as the affiant. What did she think?”
“She was very professional about it, made sure we followed proper procedures. When she saw what was in the envelope, she was as excited as I was. She hadn’t heard about Josh Atwood’s murder before we read that cover letter, and neither had I. She thought all that evidence of Grissom’s other crimes meant there would be justice for Josh’s murder, whether Grissom was successfully prosecuted for his murder or not.”
Griffin said, “About Grissom being personal—did you wonder why the boy’s murder seemed to hit Eliot Ness so close to home?”
Jeter went on alert. “What do you mean?”
Savich said, “Let’s back up a minute. You said prosecutor Kirra Mandarian happened to already be here the night Grissom was zip-tied to the police station railing, correct?”
“That’s right. She’d come over earlier to talk about a case we were working on together. She dropped back by my office later to bring back some files she’d borrowed. She was about to say good night when I got the call from the desk sergeant downstairs about a man tied to the railing downstairs. Both Kirra and I gathered around with the others downstairs. It was fortunate she was here since she’s a lawyer and knew we shouldn’t open the envelope without a warrant. What do you mean, Griffin, about the boy’s murder hitting Eliot Ness close to home?”
Pepper said, “I’m thinking along the same lines as Griffin. Jeter, you know Kirra Mandarian’s name was Allison Rendahl before her uncle adopted her in Australia and changed it.”
Jeter waved an impatient hand. “Yes, of course. Her uncle, Leo Mandarian, and I discussed his adopting her before he spoke to her about it. To tell you the truth, I was all for it since I thought it might help keep her safe since she was a witness when her parents were killed. What’s your point?”
