“Well, I do. I found it. I found the tools you used to dig it. We had been confused about where the dirt and concrete dust had come from that laid around her body. How long did it take you to fill it back in? Her body was found the day after you raped and strangled her. You must have been up all night filling in that hole. I’m guessing it took you a lot less time to fill it than it took you to dig it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sam removed another picture from his file and laid it down in front of him. It was a picture of the excavated hole that Flick had dug to gain access to Eve’s home. “It was much easier digging this time as opposed to when you dug through. It only took them about two hours. How many days did it take you to do this, the whole time thinking about breaking through into her adjoining house, climbing up the cellar stairs, entering her kitchen, walking up the steps towards her bedroom? Did you walk or could you not contain yourself and run? I mean you had been working for a long time to get to that point. To get to her room and have your way with her.”
Flick was panting at the memory. Sam thought he had him, but then Flick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he was calm and collected. “You did a lot of damage to my properties. I hope you are going to fix it.”
There was a knock on the door and Sam sat back. His partner, Jimmy Dugan, entered the room, eyeing the suspect with a malicious look that would turn the bravest man to putty. Flick looked away quickly, but Dugan wasn’t there for Flick, he was there for Sam.
Dugan bent his enormous frame down and whispered into Sam’s ear. “We have a situation. Dead girl found in her apartment. Strangled and stabbed. We’ll let this piece of garbage boil in his own sweat for a little and go check it out. Pretend like I just gave you a piece of information about this jagoff, get up and follow me out of the room.”
Sam nodded his head and looked over at Flick. Sam let a smile grow in place of the severe set of his jaw. He stood up and followed Jimmy to the door. Flick watched them walk out of the room, concern growing on his face.
Captain Jack Ballant was waiting for them outside the interrogation room. “He’s going to be a tough nut to crack. Maybe we should let Dugan have a run at him, Sam.”
Dugan could hardly contain his glee. Sam held a hand in Dugan’s direction to temper his excitement. “I almost had him in there. He wants to spill so bad it is killing him. He wants to revel in it, to soak it up, to show us how clever he was and to not have to hide his obsession with Eve anymore. He wants to tell us how much he loved her, how much he wanted her, how much she belongs to him. I’m close. We don’t need Pain for this one.”
“I just want this one settled,” Ballant said. “This was some of your best work. You knew it was him even when we all doubted it. I need to trust your instincts a lot more than I already do. Regardless, Flick is going to have to wait. We have a weird one that I want you on. Dead woman in an apartment building over on Sixth Street. Name is Katherine Burns, elementary school teacher. Strangled, then stabbed repeatedly.”
“Let’s go, Duke,” Dugan said. “Another puzzle for you to piece together.”
“I hate that nickname,” Sam said as they walked outside on to the Boulevard of the Allies. “Absolutely hate it. Duke and Pain. I mean your name makes sense. But I mean if they were going to call you Pain, why not call me Brain. Brain and Pain. That has a ring to it.”
“Too cute,” Dugan said. “Besides you are the Duke of Homicide, man. The way you gather information and know how to put it all together to make a coherent set of facts is nothing short of brilliant. You’re the Duke.”
“John Wayne is the Duke. Like I said, Brain would be a much better nickname.”
“You don’t get to pick your own nickname.”
“Just don’t call me that when we’re in the field.”
“Of course not, Lucas. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Sixth Street wasn’t a very short walk, but it was short enough that taking a car over would be a waste of time. They stepped quickly over to The Regent Arms and came across some patrolmen standing outside the entrance to the building directed them to the fourth floor. They climbed the steps and found the apartment. Outside the door stood another patrolman talking with an older man, his head as bald as a baby’s bottom and his belly as round as a basketball.
“She’s lived here for two years,” the bald man was saying. The patrolman was writing in a notebook.
Upon Sam’s approach, the patrolman looked up and instantly recognized him. “Hello, Detective Lucas.”
Sam couldn’t remember ever having met the man, so he took a quick glance at his badge. “Hello, Officer Kennedy. What do you got for me today?”
The officer flipped a few pages back in his notebook. “Woman’s name is Katherine Burns. Apparent cause of death is strangulation. Has lived here for two years. This is Gordon Wright. He is the manager of the building.”
“Thank you,” Sam said. “I’d like to speak to him in a little bit, but I want to see what we have in there.”
Dugan followed Sam into the apartment. They found Katherine Burns in the only bedroom of the apartment. She wore a pink nightgown, her body across the bed with her arms and head flung over the edge of the bed. Her green eyes stared at the wall. Sam moved over to her and leaned down close. The bruising around her neck certainly indicated strangulation. Looking around, it seemed to have all the earmarks of a robbery. Drawers were open and clothes hung out. Dugan stood by the door looking at the doorjamb.
Sam walked over and looked at what he was staring at. There was the smudge of a possible fingerprint on the doorjamb. He smiled.
“Sloppy work,” Dugan said.
“Robberies usually are,” Sam said. “I thought they said she had been stabbed, too.”
A knife laid on the floor at the foot of the bed with small traces of blood on the sharp edge. Sam took a closer look at Katherine Burns and found small cuts across her upper thigh and on her wrists. After taking some photos, he placed the knife into an evidence bag and sealed it.
“You start grabbing fingerprints,” Sam said. “I’m going to inventory what we have.”
“You’re the boss.”
Sam moved over to the open drawers of a dresser. Some undergarments were pulled out on the floor. Sticking out from underneath a pair of white panties was an open envelope, green poking out. Sam took a photo of the envelope and dresser. Then, he bent down and picked up the envelope. Inside was fifty dollars in cash.
“I think we may have to adjust our view of this,” Sam said and looked over at the dead woman.
Dugan was so deep into pulling the prints off the door jamb that it didn’t appear that he had heard his partner, but then he asked, “Why?”
He looked slowly over at Sam after completing the roll and Sam waved the dough in the air. Dugan looked at Sam sideways and simply said, “Damn it.” Sam couldn’t agree more. Establishing motive early on was always great.
“Maybe he didn’t see it,” Dugan said.
“He took it out of the drawer and dropped it on the floor.”
“Maybe interrupted.”
“Maybe.” Sam didn’t believe it. He looked around the bedroom further and found a closed jewelry box. He opened it. It was full of jewelry, probably fake, but who knows. It seemed undisturbed. He photographed the box and slid it carefully into an evidence bag.