Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Jane’s report to Rapp detailed everything she’d learned from Kyle and Maria Lito. On the surface, the tie to organized crime spoke of a subversive attempt at criminals to undercut the stability of the city.
But even Rapp thought that might be reaching. Phillip hadn’t known about being a Kaminski relative, not according to Kyle and Maria. He’d been a regular guy who’d joined the Army, planned on becoming a doctor, then retreated into his own world after the death of his parents.
She had no proof any of this tied into the Mazzucas or the Kaminskis, who were at best minor players.
Yet the adjacent tie to organized crime bothered her.
It bothered Rapp too, so he asked her to do more digging.
With Diego and Gina working their own angles on the case, it was left to her to figure out how Phillip had started down his path toward vengeance. Because maybe if she did, they could stop him from hurting anyone else.
Already, a statewide BOLO had been sent out to pick him up, and law enforcement knew to treat him as dangerous.
But what pushed a young man to turn on innocent people? Why punish medical people who had nothing to do with what had happened to his parents? What was all his talk of cover-ups and conspiracies?
Her nose itched, telling her she’d found something worth digging into.
With Diego’s help, she spent the afternoon looking up files on the Kaminski network that might involve Phillip or his family. She found nothing of note. Just a lot of arrests for various Kaminskis dealing with prostitution, drug possession, or petty theft.
The Kaminski family had been around for over a decade but were known mostly for opening restaurants and entertainment facilities where criminals might congregate. Some strip clubs, a few underground card games that would ultimately get busted. Small-time crime, staying under the radar.
Studying their activity, she thought they might be smarter than the Mazzucas. They appeared content to work behind the scenes a lot, because the Seattle office was aware of them but had no open investigations. The police kept them in check.
Nor did the Kaminskis tie to other countries. Homegrown American criminals. Not like the Mazzucas, who’d recently made a name for themselves, especially in the drug trade.
She looked through information on August Kaminski. Apparently, he’d been moving around the country for years, shaking things up before settling with family in Seattle. He’d been arrested a few times on misdemeanors in New York and New Jersey before he’d left the northeast to venture west.
From the data Diego had pooled, August had created small businesses in St. Louis, Oakland, and Las Vegas before heading to Seattle to open several restaurants and strip clubs around town. She had a helpful CI within his organization. Although calling it an organization seemed overkill.
August’s people didn’t seem very structured. Mouthy, loud, and chaotic, more like. He made a decent living but wasn’t rolling in money. Or he didn’t seem to be. And he didn’t show himself to many people, working behind the curtain.
The more Jane compared his family to the Mazzucas, the more she detected a pattern of a puppet master content to pull the strings and never be seen.
How had no one ever looked deeper into them? Or had they, maybe?
Though Code Blue seemed to have no ties to the Mazzucas, he had a definite tie to the Kaminskis.
So she followed her nose and set up an interview with the lead detective on Anton Kaminski’s DUI arrest in the Keiser accident, along with the ADA on the case.
Who just happened to be the retired detective’s current wife.
Wednesday morning, she met with Rick Flynn and his wife Amelia. Amelia continued to practice law but now worked in private practice.
The coffee shop in Queen Anne defined the culture of the city with a diverse selection of quirky décor in bright colors and textures, a jazzy, eclectic mix of music playing low in the background, and a casual yet comforting interior, both warm and welcoming.
The small, independent business provided all that as a backdrop to a delicious product Jane didn’t mind paying an extra dollar for. The coffee was rich and bold with notes of brown sugar and vanilla, and the pastry had been cooked perfectly, both flaky and delicate with a warm custard inside.
She was definitely adding this to her list of favorite coffee shops.
Jane worked at taking dainty bites instead of falling on her food like a starving woman. “Thank you for suggesting this place to meet,” she told Rick and Amelia. “I’m making a note to come back soon.”
Amelia grinned, her eyes bright, her white hair making her look sophisticated, rather than older.
Her funky blue glasses added to her air of competent chic.
“I’m addicted to the scones, which aren’t nearly as dry and crumbly as the ones they sell in the grocery store.
When Rick said you wanted to talk about Anton Kaminski, I figured we’d need some sweet to go with the bitter. ”
Rick grunted. “I’m not at all sorry to be retired from police work, to tell the truth.”
“Tell me about the case.”
He sighed. “What a nightmare. The kid was sixteen going on forty. Mouthy as hell, and he proudly failed a breathalyzer. He was lit off his ass.”
“Rick.”
Her husband flushed, and Amelia said, “We’re working on not swearing so much.”
“Hard habit to break.” Rick guzzled his coffee. “Anyway, so the kid doesn’t care that he’s just killed two people and is bleeding from a gash in his forehead. His buddies in the car thought it was hilarious. They were high on something, not drunk, and worked for Anton’s dad.”
“The Kaminskis.”
Rick nodded. “We’d been looking into the family for years but could never pin anything on them. They own restaurants. They’re a little shady but far from criminals. Just ask them.” He scoffed.
“No one can’t pin anything on them, from what I hear,” Amelia said. “Everyone thinks they’re small time, but I think they’re just really, really smart.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” Jane took another bite of heaven before pushing her plate to the side. “So Anton kills Dr. Adam and Lena Keiser. Their son, Phillip, was twenty-four at the time. He took it hard.”
“I remember him,” Amelia said. “The poor kid was lost. So angry. His parents had been wonderful people, and then they were gone.”
“So the hit and run killed them?”
Amelia paused and looked at her husband.
Jane frowned. “What am I missing?”
Rick answered after a pause, “You know what? I don’t care anymore.
I can tell you this, Jane. I was on scene, and those folks were still alive when the EMTs picked them up and transported them to the hospital.
Barely, but still, alive. They somehow got rerouted a few times and landed at a hospital a half hour farther away than Harborview. ”
Harborview, not Swedish Medical Center, Jane thought. So Phillip hadn’t been lying about the dead being symbols. If he carried a grudge, why not target Harborview?
“Did the EMTs botch the rescue?”
“I have no idea, but we couldn’t find the bodies for a few days,” Rick said, his disgust evident. “In addition to that, we somehow ‘lost’ the evidence on the Kaminski kid. The breathalyzer data, his clothes, the car, all either disappeared or caught fire in an unfortunate accident.”
“What?” Jane looked at the pair across from her. “Someone ruined the evidence?”
“You say ruined, I say covered it up,” Amelia answered. “And not only that. I was ordered to drop the case by the DA. We’d lost the evidence, but it was an obvious attempt to distract us from the guilty party. I wanted further investigation.”
“We all did.” Rick nodded.
“But we were all ordered to let it go.”
“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Jane sipped her coffee. “But hold on. Let’s backtrack. The bodies of Phillip’s parents disappeared? Were they ever found?”
Rick scowled. “Oh yeah. But get this. When we found them days later, they were missing some vital organs.”
“Say what?” This case kept getting weirder.
“Yep. Missing brains and hearts, if that doesn’t beat all.
Hearts, I get. But who the heck is looking for brains on the black market?
Weird collectors?” He huffed. “Anyhow, it tied into this.” Rick plucked a folder from a carryall beside him and tossed it on the table.
“Have at it. I never could figure out how this connected to some baby casino in Vegas.”
“Vegas?”
“It’s all in the file. If we can help you after you read that, feel free to ask. But I think you’ll learn as much as we did when you go through it.” Rick nodded at the folder, which contained a thick stack of papers and several thumb drives and CDs.
Vegas? Missing organs? Phillip’s parents had reappeared, missing their hearts and brains.
And the EMTs had been shot twice—once to the head, once to the heart.