Dale updated his boss on everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours—a citywide APB on Watters, as well as photos sent out to local, state and federal officials with nothing in return.
“Just get it done, Dayton.” The sergeant said.
“Yes, sir. But he may not be our guy.”
The sergeant eyed his detective. “What do you mean? I talked to Jimmy and he said that we have all we need on this guy.”
Dale thought about turning and leaving, but instead told him about the prenup, the will and his interview with Pitt. He explained why he thought Ace Sanders, Linda Grant, or Shawn Grant could be involved. He had already questioned Sanders’ employees under caution, careful not to make waves.
The sergeant nodded as Dale spoke and then said, “I don’t want theories or conspiracies. I like Watters as our guy. The mayor—that little puke—has been breathing down my neck on this one. Grant was an important man.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t ‘yes sir’ me, just do it! I want this guy’s ugly mug on every channel and newspaper in the U.S. The more we broaden the investigation and get the word out to local, state and federal law enforcement authorities and the public, the greater the possibility of good information coming in. Let’s smoke him out.”
Dale was not against searching for tips, but most cases were solved when someone directly involved ratted out a partner in crime. A national publicity campaign would not catch this killer. Dale counted on Jimmy’s snitches coming through.
“Yes, sir.”
He blew air from his cheeks when he left the office. His partner was waiting with a wide grin.
Dale slumped into his seat. “Please tell me that you have some good news. Any luck at all?”
“Yeah, lots of luck, only it’s the bad kind. Sorry, buddy. I used every link. Nothing. My contacts said that Watters was private and cautious. He’s been seen at Cruiser’s Bar from time to time, but no one knows where he conducted his business and no one dares cross him anyway. He could be out of the country by now.”
“Great. Send someone over to Cruiser’s Bar just in case.”
As a public service to a fellow cop, Dale called Joshua Watters at the LAPD.
“Detective Watters, this is Detective Dayton, LVMPD.”
“What can I do for you, Detective?”
“I’m calling about your brother.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard. Have you brought him in?”
“I don’t like to admit it, but we hoped you had some idea of how we might find him.”
“Under different circumstances I would laugh at a group of detectives who can’t find a tall African American built like a truck in a town your size. But Calvin is not dumb and I’m not surprised you haven’t flushed him. Sorry, Detective. My brother and I haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. Not since he took that job with Pitt.”
“Well, I believe your brother is innocent. I think he’s been set up.”
“Really?”
Dale heard the shock in the LAPD detective’s voice.
“Yes, I do. If you talk to Calvin, tell him that. Tell him to contact me.”
“That changes things. I’ll see if I can help you find him. Not that I wouldn’t have done my job anyway, brother or not. But now I’m going to get creative. But I believe TV is to blame.”
“What do you mean?” Dale asked.
“Detective, we both know that in real life, the police treat a suspect who comes forward with respect and assume that only an innocent man would voluntarily turn himself in. TV cop shows indicate that cops try to twist a suspect’s story. My brother is probably thinking that.”
“Anything you got will help.”
“Calvin is a survivor, detective. He doesn’t trust too many people. He was only thirteen when our mother died of pancreatic cancer. We didn’t have a father. Calvin bounced around the foster care system, moving from house to house, parents to parents. I was more fortunate. I was twenty-one and already enrolled in the Academy. Even though I was legally an adult, I was in no way capable of taking care of Calvin. I did the best I could, but I wasn’t the brother I should have been. Calvin used football as his salvation and a way out. As a boy, he overcame all of these obstacles to succeed when most men would have quit. So I’ll do anything I can to help my brother now.”
“No leads?”
“It won’t be easy, detective Dayton. Calvin is a U.S. military history buff. He would read up on it any chance he got. I know that he used this knowledge in football to break down team defenses. He showed a special interest in past wars, studying line of defenses, as well as actions taken on the offensive. He had learned every possible tactic used by the military and how the armed forces involved made their decisions. But I’ll do my best to help.”
“Thanks, Detective Watters. Call me anytime,” Dale said over the lump in his throat.
Chapter 22
“Jimmy, I’m going downstairs to retrieve the stuff from Pitt’s office. We can review it now while I decide in which direction we want the team to run.”
Dale skipped down the concrete stairs and into the basement evidence room. “Mornin’, Joseph. I need the Pitt stuff.”
“You got it, Dale.”
The swarthy officer jumped off his stool, dropped the logbook on the counter in front of Dale and walked to the back of the cage. Dale could hear lockers being opened and closed as he signed in. The man returned with two large-sized garbage bags.
Dale eyed him. “That’s it?”
The man shrugged. “That’s all that was signed in last night.”
Dale grabbed the bags and sprinted up the steps. He threw them on his desk. “How many bags did we confiscate from Pitt’s office?”
Jimmy shrugged. “I didn’t stay all night, but there were at least four when I left.”
Dale sizzled with rage and felt a shiver form. Goose bumps sprung on his arms. He marched into his sergeant’s office without knocking. “What the fuck is going on here?”
The sergeant was on the phone. A cigar drooped from his lips. “I gotta go,” he said into the phone and hung up.
“Excuse me, Dayton? Do you know who I was on the phone with?”
“I don’t give a fuck right now. What happened to the Pitt evidence?”
“What Pitt evidence?” His boss seemed genuinely puzzled.
“The evidence we took from the office last night.”
“What are you saying?”
“At least two bags are missing. I want to know what’s happened to them.”
“Dayton, are you accusing me?” The boss did not sound as angry as he should have.
“It’s a mighty big fuckin’ coincidence that bags of evidence with names of important people vanished overnight.”
“Get out of my office! I’ll find out what happened to your fuckin’ evidence.”
“You do that.”
Dale slammed his way out of the office and rushed to dump the bags out on his desk. Jimmy didn’t say a word.
He and Jimmy skimmed the contents of Pitt’s safe, but all the good stuff was gone. What was he going to do about whoever was messing with him from inside the department? He had no clue who it was.
He wanted to make some calls, do some complaining, but he knew his superiors would ignore him and he’d be wasting needed time that they didn’t have.
He reviewed the suspects.
Ace Sanders’ alibi was confirmed by the scared employees from his casino. The household staff confirmed that Linda Grant was at home at the time in question. Shawn Grant was also at his casino. But all three of them could have hired a killer.
The only suspect without an alibi was Calvin Watters and they couldn’t even find him to question.