Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Gary frowned. “There was nothing in Tyler’s behavior that pointed to him lying….” He stiffened. “Wait a sec. That telltale lowering of the head. He didn’t want to look us in the eye.”
“See? You’re a good detective.”
“Do you want me to call him? Have him come back here?”
Dan shook his head. “We know how to reach him if we need to. Right now we have other stuff we need to be doing.” He took a drink of his tea lemonade. “Is it me, or is there a focus on money where Leo is concerned? Those magazines, for instance. I got more than the sense he was drooling over them.”
“Then how about we take a look at his bank account?” Gary suggested.
“My thoughts exactly.” Dan smiled. “Hey, what do you know? I’m starting to think like you.” He stilled. “That was weird, though.”
“What was?”
“What Tyler said about them all getting sick. He made it sound as if they picked up some bug during their vacation.”
“That had to be some awful bug if it killed a guy,” Gary remarked. “I’m not sure that helps us with the case.”
Dan wasn’t so certain.
Gary cocked his head. “I’m getting to know you really well.”
He grinned. “In and out of bed.”
Gary chuckled, but his cheeks flushed. “What I meant was… sometimes I get the feeling you’re holding out on me.”
He pushed out a sigh. “If you’re asking have I told you everything I’ve sensed, then yeah, I have. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Anything else is way too vague to commit to words right now.”
Gary’s warm eyes were locked on his. “But you think there’s more to this than we’re seeing right now.”
“Maybe?” Dan finished his lemonade. “Enough speculation for now. Let’s go look at his bank account.” Not that he expected it to reveal anything—if that was the case, it would have been in the police report—but right then they were covering all bases.
And hoping new information would come to light.
“Thank you very much for your help.” Gary finished the call.
“Well?” He’d made about four or five calls since they’d returned to the precinct. Dan was beginning to feel like a fifth wheel around the place.
“It appears Leo opened a new bank account just before he died.”
Dan stared. “How long before he died?”
“Three days.”
“And how much is in it?”
“Nothing. He never made a deposit.”
Dan leaned back in his chair, his arms folded. “Would it be fair to assume he was expecting money?”
“That’s how it looks to me. But from where?”
They didn’t have the answer to that question yet.
“What about Leo’s professors? What did they have to say about him?”
“Most of them have replied to my messages.” Gary glanced at his notebook. “I have to say, their responses were all pretty similar. Leo Deakins was apparently the kind of student who thought nothing of resorting to plagiarism.”
“But I’d expect that,” Dan remarked. “His classmates all said he was bright but lazy.” He grabbed a sheet of paper from his drawer and wrote “Leo Deakins” at the top.
“Let’s look at the picture we’ve put together so far—the stuff we know for sure.
Leo wasn’t a nice guy. Well, people liked him, but he had some pretty unlikable qualities too.
He was always broke. He had expensive tastes in motorcycles.
He intended buying one but had no money to accomplish that. ”
“Don’t forget everyone who knew him agrees drugs were not his style,” Gary added.
“Something’s been puzzling me,” Dan confessed. “It goes back to the bullet that killed him. You said it was the kind of bullet used by law enforcement, right?”
Gary nodded.
“So why did no one follow up on that?”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” Gary tapped his pen against his teeth. “And I have a theory. I don’t like it much, but it fits.”
“Tell me.”
“Maybe you were right after all. Maybe it did look like a cop had done it, and the detectives in charge of the case figured they wouldn’t pursue it because one more drug dealer off the streets was no bad thing.”
Dan’s mouth fell open. “I know I suggested the same thing, but… that’s just wrong. Where’s the justice in that?”
“I said I didn’t like the theory, didn’t I?”
Dan grabbed the case folder. “Who was the detective in charge?” His gut tightened, and a flush of heat bloomed in his face.
“Stop.”
Dan jerked his head up. “What?”
“I already looked. They’re no longer with us. Took early retirement.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Or they left before they were asked to.” He winced. “I’m sorry. I know detectives like Lewis are in the minority, and I shouldn’t assume there’s corruption in the police department, but—”
“But of course there is. Every barrel has one or two bad apples, right?”
Dan rifled through the sheets.
“What are you looking for now?”
“Autopsy report.”
“Then stop looking, and let’s go straight to the horse’s mouth.” Gary smiled.
Dan couldn’t help but return it. “Del Maddox performed the autopsy,” he surmised.
Gary nodded.
“Then why are we still sitting here?” Dan surged to his feet and grabbed his jacket.
Behind him, Gary laughed. “Have I ever told you how much I like it that you get excited about your work?”
Del gave them a broad smile. “Well, hello. What brings you to my playroom? I’m not working on any of your cases, am I?” His empty stainless-steel table gleamed, but several evidence bags were piled up on one long countertop.
“We’re here to talk about an autopsy you performed in 2015,” Gary told him.
Del blinked. “Of course. I’ll need a little more information to work with, though.”
“Leo Deakins. Shot in the back of the head with—”
“A frangible bullet,” Del interjected.
Gary stared at him. “Your memory is remarkable.”
“Not as remarkable as you might think, but more of that in a moment.”
“What is a frangible bullet?” Dan asked.
Del leaned against his table. “They’re intended to disintegrate into tiny particles upon target impact to minimize their penetration of other objects.”
“How are they different from regular bullets?”
“Traditional bullets are usually constructed from solid metals. They’re made to stay in one piece upon impact.”
“Gary says they’re used a lot by law enforcement.”
Del nodded. “Think about how we train our police and military personnel. They have to train in some pretty tight hallways, narrow doorways, small rooms. Shooting solid metal rounds in close quarters increases the chance of ricochet injuries. So they use frangible 9mm ammo instead.”
“Are there other situations where this ammo is used?” Dan was fascinated.
Another nod. “Real-world close-quarters combat, and as you said, law enforcement. Officers and military personnel can reduce the chances of overpenetration in walls and targets by using frangible ammo. But back to Mr. Deakins. I wasn’t expecting to find such a bullet, not given the circumstances of his death.
” He coughed. “It does point one in an obvious direction.”
“Yeah, we already discussed that direction,” Gary commented. “But that still doesn’t tell me why you remembered this case so fast.”
“It’s the timing of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t get many cases where I see such ammo, so when one comes my way, it’s memorable—rare even. I looked up Mr. Deakins’s autopsy this morning because I was reminded of it.”
“What brought it to mind?”
Del pointed to his fridges. “Because my latest two clients were both shot with the same kind of bullet.”