17
BUCKLEY POLICE read the sign, and Julia and Courtney stepped inside an entrance hall that was retrofitted with a bulletproof window framed by stainless steel with a metal grate in the center and a tray at the bottom.
A bulletin board held random notices for hunting permits, prescription drug drop-offs, and a MOST WANTED chart of mugshots that made Julia shudder.
Underneath was a list of Buckley police officers, and she noted that the Buckley PD was a five-man force, with a chief of police, a corporal, and three officers.
There was no mention of Detective Kowalski.
Courtney went to the bulletproof window and introduced herself. “Is Detective Kowalski in?” she asked a uniformed cop on the other side.
“No,” the cop answered, his voice muffled by the grate.
“Isn’t his office here? His business card says it is.”
“He has a desk here. You should call him.”
“I did, but he didn’t answer.”
“I can give him a message. Don’t know when he’ll be in, though.”
“Is there anyone else I can speak to about my grandmother, Kay Patterson? She was murdered.”
“Sorry to hear that. No one’s in but the Chief.”
“Could I speak with him? The state police were in my field today, and I wanted to make sure he knew about it.”
“Hold on a minute. I’ll buzz you in and take you back.” The cop left the window and returned a few moments later, then gestured to a white door with a POLICE ONLY sign.
Julia and Courtney were buzzed into an empty squad room, its old pine floorboards covered by a ratty black all-weather runner.
Four gray desks were topped with boxy monitors, and old-school wooden mail slots sat next to battered gray file cabinets stacked with boxes.
The windows were covered by lopsided blinds.
The cop dropped them off at a medium-size office in the back, where an older heavyset man rose behind a cluttered desk, smiling tightly.
He had small grayish eyes and he was bald, with a bulbous nose and a large mouth.
His uniform was a white shirt and black pants, with a gleaming gold badge and a nameplate that read GLUSHENKO.
“I’m the chief. Nice to meet you, ladies.” Glushenko reached a meaty hand across the desk, and they shook, then he sat down in a black pleather chair and gestured them to wooden chairs opposite him. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
“Thank you.” Courtney sat down, and Julia followed suit, looking around.
The office was a square with dingy white walls, and his desk held an old Dell computer, mugs of pens and pencils, and stacks of papers atop a blotter-and-calendar insert, and a large black-and-orange grip strengthener.
Behind him was a shelf that held family photos, mounted badges under glass, and a signed Pittsburgh Steelers football deflating in a cardboard holder.
Glushenko eased back in his chair, linking his hands over his belly. “Tell me how I can help you today.”
“I guess you heard about the ghost gun.”
Chief Glushenko blinked. “What ghost gun?”
“The state police found a ghost gun they think was the murder weapon. They said they were going to keep you informed and you were going to keep me informed. I’m assuming Detective Kowalski knows, right?”
“Did you call him?”
“Yes, but he hasn’t called back yet.”
“How do you know about the gun?”
“I was there when they found it in my grandmother’s field.”
“I’m sure I’ll hear about it in due time.”
Julia was surprised that he hadn’t been told, but Courtney pressed on.
“Chief, how often do you see ghost guns around here?”
Glushenko shrugged, his expression impassive. “Not often.”
“Have you ever?”
“No.”
“So does that tell you anything, that a ghost gun was the murder weapon?”
“Tell me anything?” Chief Glushenko shrugged again. “I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
Julia thought he was being difficult, but Courtney took it on the chin.
“I guess I mean, can you draw any conclusions from the fact that it is a ghost gun and that you have not ever had a case involving one?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Courtney asked, her tone even.
“You’re making the assumption this ghost gun is the murder weapon. It goes to Ballistics, and that takes time. Until we get a match on the tests, I wouldn’t say it’s the murder weapon. I never speculate.”
“How do ballistics tests work with a ghost gun? Do they test it the same way as a regular gun?”
“I don’t know.”
Courtney shifted in her chair. “Well, if it wasn’t the murder weapon, why would it be on my grandmother’s property? Obviously, it’s not a typical gun, and you’ve never had a case with one. I mean, what are the odds?”
“I don’t want to speculate.”
“It didn’t look like it had been there that long. There was no moss on it.”
“I don’t want to—”
“I understand,” Courtney said, interrupting him, and Julia knew she was getting frustrated, so she took a turn.
“Chief Glushenko, do you know if anybody checked the tire tracks around the farmhouse? The grass is tall, so the pickup truck would’ve left an imprint.”
“That’s up to Detective Kowalski. If he discussed that with the state police, I have no knowledge.” Chief Glushenko pursed his lips. “I’m not in charge of the investigation.”
“I thought you were. The state police said Buckley PD was in charge.”
“No, Detective Kowalski’s in charge. He’s Homicide.”
Julia hated the institutional runaround, which had also happened with Mike’s murder back in Philadelphia. “Well, do you exchange information with him at all?”
“I’ll pass along what you ladies tell me here today. But he doesn’t update me. He’s busy and he doesn’t have time for phone tag.”
“So you’ll ask him about the tire imprint?”
“I said I’d pass it along, so I will.” Chief Glushenko frowned, newly testy.
Courtney interjected, “The other thing I wanted to talk to you about was a lead we came up with, a basket missing from my grandmother’s house.”
Chief Glushenko lifted a skeptical eyebrow, and Courtney launched into the explanation about the missing basket. Chief Glushenko listened coolly.
“So what do you think?” Courtney asked, when she was finished. “I know you don’t want to speculate, but it does seem like a good lead, doesn’t it?”
“You’re speculating.”
“How? The basket is gone. It was taken.”
“Your grandmother could’ve decided to throw the junk out.”
“It wasn’t junk to her.”
“Did you check the trash?”
“No, but she wouldn’t have thrown it out.”
“See, that’s speculation. She coulda decided to clean house. Spring cleaning, like my wife. Last week she threw out my favorite sneakers.” Chief Glushenko shook his head. “They were perfectly broken in.”
Julia didn’t think they were getting anywhere, but she had a last nagging thought.
“Chief Glushenko, we understand that the neighboring farm was the site of a murder about thirty years ago. It was owned by a McKenna, who disappeared. A drifter named Shoemaker was killed, and his body was found in the well. Do you know anything about that?”
Chief Glushenko nodded. “That’s a cold case.”
“Did you investigate?”
“No. Homicide did.”
“Was that Detective Kowalski’s as well?”
“No, it was too long ago. He’s new. It was another detective.”
“Do you remember his name?” Julia felt like she was pulling teeth.
“I want to say Kovich, but he died.” Chief Glushenko paused. “Why?”
“There’s not that many murders in Buckley.”
“There’s not that many people, either. We’re down to two hundred.”
“Still it seems unusual that two murders occurred on adjacent properties. We’re wondering if they’re related.”
“Why would they be? They’re almost three decades apart.”
Julia let it go. “There must be a case file. Where is it?”
“Archives. We have to retain them on murder cases.”
“Can we get it?”
“Up to Detective Kowalski.”
Courtney retook the floor. “Okay, one last thing. If my grandmother found something at the clean-up, the next step would be to contact people who were there and see if she told them about it or showed it to them. We also think she went to the grocery store in Ashland after the clean-up, probably on Monday. I would appreciate it if you asked Detective Kowalski to follow up.”
“He doesn’t need me to tell him how to do his job.”
Courtney bristled. “Chief, I came here with information that might be useful to Detective Kowalski. You say you’ll pass it on. But when I ask you to pass it on, you tell me you won’t tell him how to do his job. Which is it?”
Chief Glushenko’s eyes narrowed, just the slightest. “I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”
“Okay, who runs the clean-ups, do you know?”
“A bunch of do-gooders.” Chief Glushenko shot back, and Julia could see that Courtney was getting angry.
“Named?”
“Shenandoah Preservation.”
Courtney started scrolling on her phone, and Chief Glushenko shifted forward, peering over the desk at her.
“What are you doing? Are you looking them up?”
“If we can’t tell Detective Kowalski how to do his job, I’ll do it for him.”
Chief Glushenko clenched his jaw. “Do not contact Shenandoah. If Detective Kowalski thinks they should be contacted, he’ll contact them.”
“When?” Courtney looked up from her phone, her eyes flashing. “He doesn’t have the time to call me, so when’s he going to call them?”
“He can’t have you interfering.”
“I can call anybody I want to.”
“Not when it’s police business, you can’t. I’ve been in law enforcement fifty years. I’m chief for twenty-nine. This job is for professionals, not civilians. You are totally disrespectful.”
“Because I have questions?”
“Not questions, attitude.” Chief Glushenko’s eyes hardened, and Julia had to stand up for Courtney.
“Chief, really, put yourself in her position. She just lost her grandmother and she’s not getting any answers.
I understand how frustrating that can be, and you should, too.
Her grandmother is just a case to you, but her grandmother will never be just a case to her.
Her grandmother was someone she loved her whole life, and you should show some compassion—”
“Spare me.” Chief Glushenko rolled his eyes, dismissing her with a wave. “I don’t have to take this crap. Time for you to—”
“What? Are you serious?” Julia jumped up, outraged. She felt herself losing control. “How dare you say something like that to her! She’s the victim’s family! Can you know what that’s like? You should! You’re the disrespectful one, not her!”
“Get out of my office!” Chief Glushenko bellowed, pointing at the door. “Go back to Philly, the both of you!”
Courtney rose, taking Julia’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Julia ignored her. “Chief Glushenko, you should be ashamed of yourself!”
Chief Glushenko kept pointing. “Out!”
Julia felt Courtney tugging her away. “Court, he can’t do this! It’s wrong!”
“Now,” Courtney said, tugging Julia from the office.