Chapter 64
ROB TRILLING AND I had just arrived at Mona’s house next door for dinner. I didn’t know what we were having, but based on her previous meals, my hopes were high. It smelled fantastic. Almost as good as something Ricky would make.
Before I had ditched my winter jacket or was even completely inside, however, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Walter Jackson. As challenging as it was, I excused myself and went outside for privacy.
As soon as I had stepped back outside, I realized my mistake. I should’ve simply excused myself to another room in the house. I huddled in the little covered porch area right outside the front door. The alcove mostly blocked the freezing wind that was ripping down from the hills.
Walter sounded like his usual cheerful self.
The first thing he said was “I waited until I got home to call you. I know you’re always hesitant to use NYPD time or resources for personal issues.
I still think this is a criminal case, whether it’s here in New York or out there in whatever the hell state you’re in. ”
“Montana.”
“Are you telling me you’d know the difference between Idaho and Montana if there weren’t signs around?”
I had to chuckle at that one. “I assume you’re calling me because you have actual information that might help me.”
“You assume correctly. I’ve done a bunch more research on this Arnold Marks.”
“What else did you find?”
“My God. Most importantly, you and Rob need to be careful. This is a really bad guy. Part of that is from records and part of that is from my own experience with reading articles and criminal histories. This guy actually scares me.”
“Uh-oh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I sort of pissed him off. Big-time.”
“What else is new?” Walter paused for a moment, then said, “He’s a suspect in several homicides. Oh, and Arnold Marks is not his original name.”
“It’s an alias?”
Walter said, “Not exactly. He emigrated here from Albania a little under twenty years ago. He legally changed his name from Arjan Marku to Arnold Marks a year later.”
“That explains his accent.”
Walter continued. “He’s a legal US citizen with a legally changed name.”
“You make him sound like he’s a stand-up community leader.”
“Hardly. He was married twice. His first wife, Angelica, disappeared about twelve years ago. His second wife is part of his business. Which is listed as real-estate developer.”
“Is he a person of interest in the first wife’s disappearance?”
“All I could find was an old Los Angeles Times article. It said that after Angelica Marks left her shift as a waitress at Hooters, no one ever heard from her again. I didn’t look at any police records or call the LAPD.
I figured we’d see where this was going and how much trouble he was causing out in Idaho—”
“Montana. Trilling is from Bozeman, Montana.”
Walter kept going. “The other thing I’m looking at, and somewhat confirmed through a friend of mine, is that it’s likely Marks either is or was an informant for the FBI counterintelligence unit.
Those guys are so secretive they’d never admit or deny using him.
But I think that’s one of the reasons he skated on some of these other crimes where he’s a suspect.
That’s something that might need to be checked out.
See if anyone from the FBI ever called to get him off the hook. ”
That was a lot of information. I let it sink in for a moment while I fought off a serious chill. A legit 15°F chill. Then I said to Walter, “You did all this using only public internet sites?”
There was a long pause. Finally, Walter said, “Yes and no. I didn’t use NYPD resources or any official databases. But I did look at sites on the internet that aren’t necessarily public. Or legal. Let’s just say there’s a lot of information floating out there if you know where to look.”
I said, “I never want you to look into my background. God knows what you could dig up.”
“Are you kidding me? Saint Michael of the Upper West Side, who is raising ten kids and has saved the city from dozens and dozens of killers? I’m pretty sure you’d be safe from anyone’s investigation.”
“I like how you say that while I’m out here in Montana, partially to avoid an Internal Affairs investigation.”
Walter laughed. “And the only reason you’re trying to avoid IA is to keep those girls Rob rescued from getting in any trouble. That only adds to your sainthood.”
“Ha ha,” I said. “Can you call me if you find anything else?”
“Of course. You’re one of the few people who appreciate my research superpowers. Everyone needs their ego massaged once in a while.”
“And every cop needs a criminal analyst like you.”
Walter said, “I appreciate that. Now here comes my fee.”
“Making me listen to a pun?”
“Not exactly. More of a riddle.”
“I’m ready.”
Walter took a moment to gather his thoughts. “What do you call two cannibals wrestling?”
“No idea.”
“A food fight.”
I laughed at that one. Out loud.
We ended our conversation. I hadn’t wanted to rush my friend, even in this cold, but I did thank God that Walter’s riddle had been quick and to the point. The wind was starting to turn my nose red.
I stepped back inside, ready to relay Walter’s latest information to the Trilling family. In the living room, I noticed Chet dozing on the couch. The brothers were sitting at the kitchen counter, talking to their mother as she chopped vegetables.
Rob Trilling turned in his seat and laughed. “You look like you could lead Santa’s sleigh.”
“It is almost Christmas, so the season is right for that analogy.” I stepped up beside the counter. “That was Walter Jackson. He’s found a lot of information on our friend Arnold Marks.”
Trilling smiled. “I knew he would.”
Just as I was about to give them a rundown of my conversation, we heard a noise in the driveway out front.
Someone was outside Mona Trilling’s house.