"The Two Minute Rule" - читать интересную книгу автора (Crais Robert)

10

IT WAS FOUR plainclothes officers who hooked him up, but only two of them brought him to Parker Center, the red-haired officer whose name was Vukovich and a Latino officer named Fuentes. Holman had been arrested by the Los Angeles Police Department on twelve separate occasions, and in every case except his last (when he was arrested by an FBI agent named Katherine Pollard) he had been processed through one of LAPD’s nineteen divisional police stations. He had been in the Men’s Central Jail twice and the Federal Men’s Detention Center three times, but he had never been to Parker Center. When they brought him to Parker, Holman knew he was in deep shit.

Parker was the Los Angeles Police Department’s main office: A white-and-glass building that housed the Chief of Police, the Internal Affairs Group, various civilian administrators and administration agencies, and LAPD’s elite Robbery-Homicide Division, which was a command division overseeing Homicide Special, Robbery Special, and Rape Special. Each of the nineteen divisions had homicide, robbery, and sex crimes detectives, but those detectives worked only in their respective divisions; Robbery-Homicide detectives worked on cases that spanned the city.

Vukovich and Fuentes walked Holman into an interview room on the third floor and questioned him for more than an hour, after which another set of detectives took over. Holman knew the drill. The cops always asked the same questions over and over, looking to see if your answers changed. If your answers changed they knew you were lying, so Holman told them the truth about everything except Chee. When the red-haired guy, Vukovich, asked how he knew Maria Juarez was with her cousins, Holman told them he heard it in a bar, some Frogtown paco bragging he screwed Maria in junior high, him and sixty-two other guys, the girl was such a slut, the paco spouting the cops Warren killed had probably been bagging the little slut, too. Covering for Chee was something he had done before and now it was the only lie Holman told. One lie, it was easy to remember even though telling it frightened him.

Eight-forty that night, Holman was still in the room, having been questioned on and off for more than six hours without being offered an attorney or being booked. Eight forty-one, the door opened again and Vukovich entered with someone new.

The new man studied Holman for a moment, then put out his hand. Holman thought he looked familiar.

“Mr. Holman, I’m John Random. I’m sorry about your son.”

Random was the first of the detectives to offer his hand. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt and tie without a jacket. A gold detective’s shield was clipped to his belt. Random took a seat opposite Holman as Vukovich leaned against the wall.

Holman said, “Am I being charged with anything?”

“Has Detective Vukovich explained why we pulled you in?”

“No.”

Holman suddenly realized why Random was familiar. Random had been part of the press conference that Holman had seen in the bar. He hadn’t known Random’s name, but he recognized him.

Random said, “When the officers ran your vehicle they found thirty-two unpaid parking violations and another nine outstanding traffic violations.”

Holman said, “Jesus.”

Vukovich smiled.

“Yeah, and you didn’t match the DMV description we got of the vehicle’s owner, you not being a seventy-four-year-old black male. We thought you had a hot car, bud.”

Random said, “We spoke with Mr. Wilkes. You’re in the clear so far as the car, even though you’ve been driving it without a license. So forget the car and let’s get back to Ms. Juarez. Why did you go see her?”

The same question he had been asked three dozen times. Holman gave them the same answer.

“I was looking for her husband.”

“What do you know about her husband?”

“I saw you on TV. You’re looking for him.”

“But why were you looking for him?”

“He killed my son.”

“How’d you find your way to Ms. Juarez?”

“Their address was in the phone book. I went to their house but the place was crawling with people. I started hitting the bars in their neighborhood and found some people who knew them, and pretty soon I ended up in Silver Lake and met this guy said he knew her. He told me she was staying with her cousins, and I guess he was telling the truth-that’s where I found her.”

Random nodded.

“He knew her address?”

“Information operator gave me the address. The guy I met, he just told me who she was staying with. It wasn’t any big deal. Most folks don’t have unlisted numbers.”

Random smiled, still staring at him.

“Which bar was this?”

Holman met Random’s eye, then casually glanced at Vukovich.

“I don’t know the name of the place, but it’s on Sunset a couple of blocks west of Silver Lake Boulevard. On the north side. I’m pretty sure it had a Mexican name.”

Holman had driven past earlier. Sunset was lined with Mexican places.

“Uh-huh, so you could take us there?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. I told Detective Vukovich three or four hours ago I could take you there.”

“And this man you spoke with, if you saw him again, could you point him out?”

Holman met Random’s stare again, but relaxed, not making a point of it.

“Absolutely. Without a doubt. If he’s still there after all this time.”

Vukovich, smiling again, said, “Hey, you busting my balls or what?”

Random ignored Vukovich’s comment.

“So tell me, Mr. Holman, and I am very serious in asking you this question-did Maria Juarez tell you anything that would help us find her husband?”

Holman suddenly found himself liking Random. He liked the man’s intensity and his desire to find Warren Juarez.

“No, sir.”

“She didn’t know where he was hiding?”

“She said she didn’t.”

“Did she tell you why he killed the officers? Or any details of the crime?”

“She said he didn’t do it. She told me he was with her when the murders were committed. They have a little girl. She said it was the little girl’s birthday and they made a video that proved Warren was with them at the time of the murders. She said she gave it to you guys. That’s it.”

Random said, “She admitted no knowledge of her husband’s whereabouts?”

“She just kept saying he didn’t do it. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“What were you planning to do when you left her?”

“Same thing I was doing before. Talk to people to see if I could pick up something else. But then I met Mr. Vukovich.”

Vukovich laughed and changed his position against the wall.

Holman said, “Mind if I ask a question?”

Random shrugged.

“You can ask. Not saying I’ll answer, but let’s see.”

“They really have a tape?”

“She gave us a tape, but it doesn’t show what she claims that it shows. There are questions about when that tape was made.”

Vukovich said, “They didn’t have to make their video at one A.M. on Tuesday morning. We had our analyst look at it. She believes they recorded the talk show, then played it back on their VCR to use it as an alibi. You watch her video, you aren’t seeing the talk show when it originally aired; you’re seeing a recording of a recording. We believe they made their tape the morning after the murders.”

Holman frowned. He understood how such a tape could be produced, but he had also seen the fear in Maria’s eyes when he grabbed her throat. He had been eye to eye with terrified people when he was stealing cars and robbing banks, and he had left her with the sense she was telling the truth.

“Waitaminute. You’re saying she conspired with her husband?”

Random seemed about to answer, then thought better of it. He checked his watch, then stood as if lifting a great load.

“Let’s leave it at what I’ve said. This is an ongoing investigation.”

“Okay, but one more thing. Richie’s commander told me this was a personal beef between Juarez and one of the other officers, Fowler. Is that what it was?”

Random nodded at Vukovich, letting Vukovich answer.

“That’s right. It started a little over a year ago. Fowler and his trainee stopped a kid for a traffic violation. That was Jaime Juarez, Warren’s younger brother. Juarez grew belligerent. Fowler knew he was high, pulled him out of the car, and found a few crack rocks in his pants. Juarez, of course, claimed Fowler planted the stuff, but he still got hit for three years in the State. Second month in, a fight broke out between black and Latino prisoners, and Jaime was killed. Warren blamed Fowler. Went all over the Eastside saying he was going to do Fowler for killing the kid. He didn’t keep it a secret. We have a witness list two pages long of people who heard him making the threats.”

Holman took it in. He could absolutely see Juarez killing the man he blamed for his brother’s death, but that wasn’t what bothered him.

“Have you named any other suspects?”

“There are no other suspects. Juarez acted alone.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Juarez doing this by himself. How did he know they were down there? How’d he find them? How does one street dick take four armed police officers and none of them even get off a shot?”

Holman’s voice grew loud and he regretted it. Random seemed irritated. He pursed his lips, then checked his watch again as if someone or something was waiting for him. He made some kind of decision, then looked back at Holman.

“He approached them from the east using the bridge supports for cover. That’s how he got close. He was right at thirty feet away when he started shooting. He used a Benelli combat shotgun firing twelve-gauge buckshot. You know what buckshot is, Mr. Holman?”

Holman nodded. He felt sick.

“Two of the officers were shot in the back, indicating they never knew it was coming. The third officer was likely seated on the hood of his car. He jumped off, turned, and took his shot head-on. The fourth officer did manage to draw his sidearm, but he was dead before he could return fire. Don’t ask me which was your son, Mr. Holman. I won’t tell you.”

Holman felt cold. His breaths were short. Random checked his watch again.

“We know there was one shooter and only one because all the shell casings came from the same gun. It was Juarez. This video is just a half-assed attempt he made to cover his ass. As for you, we’re going to cut you free. That wasn’t a unanimous decision, but you’re free to go. We’ll arrange for a ride back to your car.”

Holman stood, but he still had questions and for the first time in his life he wasn’t in a hurry to leave a police station.

“Where are you in finding the sonofabitch? You guys have a line on him or what?”

Random glanced at Vukovich. Vukovich’s face was empty. Random looked back at Holman.

“We already have him. At six-twenty this evening Warren Alberto Juarez was found dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

Vukovich touched the underside of his chin.

“Same shotgun he used to murder your son. Straight up through here, took the top of his head off. Still had the gun in his hands.”

Random extended his hand once more. Holman felt numb with the news, but took the hand automatically.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Holman. I’m truly sorry that four officers were lost like this. It’s a goddamned shame.”

Holman didn’t respond. Here they were, keeping him here all evening, and Juarez was dead.

Holman said, “Then why in hell did you ask me if his wife knew where he was and what I would do?”

“To see if she lied to me. You know how it works.”

Holman felt himself growing angry but fought it down. Random opened the door.

“Let’s make sure we’re clear on this-don’t go back to Ms. Juarez. Her husband might be dead, but she is still the subject of an active investigation.”

“You think she was involved in the killings?”

“She helped him try to get away with it. Whether or not she knew before the fact is still to be determined. Don’t get involved in this again. We’re giving you a break because you lost your son, but that consideration ends now. If we bring you back to this room, Holman, I’ll charge you and see that you’re prosecuted. Do we understand each other?”

Holman nodded.

“Rest easy, Mr. Holman. We got the bastard.”

Random left without waiting for an answer. Vukovich peeled himself from the wall and gently slapped Holman on the back, like two guys who had been through the mill together.

“C’mon, bud. I’ll take you back to your car.”

Holman followed Vukovich out.