Redemption (Amos Decker #5)(72)

“It happened a long time ago. How do you expect me to remember anything?” As soon as Stevens said this, his features tightened.

Decker said, “What happened a long time ago?” When Stevens didn’t answer, he added, “I thought you didn’t remember anything about Frankie Richards or Meryl Hawkins.”

“Just making conversation,” said Stevens uncomfortably, his swagger now gone.

Lancaster interjected, “You want to deal or not? We can leave right now, but we’ll be sure to note in the record how uncooperative you were. That way you go to the max twenty.”

Stevens lunged forward and might have leapt across the table but for his restraints. The look on his face was that of a snarling wild animal. “You screw me like that, bitch, and you’re gonna regret it. I didn’t ask for you to come here.”

“Is that right, Karl?” said Lancaster. “You got friends on the outside?”

“I got friends all over.”

“So where were your friends when your ass ended up in here?” She paused. “Some friends. Why do you think you owe them?”

“Who said anything about owing anybody?” he barked.

The guards made a move to step forward, but Decker waved them off. He said, “Because guys like you are a dime a dozen, and Mary and I have seen it all a hundred times. You got stupid and you got caught and your ‘friends’ ran away from you as fast as they could. The result: You’re in here and they’re not.”

“You got no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“Then tell us,” replied Decker. “I always like to know who’s on the opposing team.”

Stevens waved this off with a rattle of his shackles. “I’m just spouting, man. Just bullshit.”

“Getting back to Richards and Hawkins: You dealt for them both, I’m betting. Maybe you heard something from one of them that might tie into what happened?”

Lancaster added, “And maybe you saw Meryl Hawkins here and you two talked. About stuff? And then he got released.”

“That was bullshit. I’m sick too. I got a liver thing.”

“So, you knew he was released because of his cancer being terminal?” said Decker.

When the inmate once more looked chagrined at his own words, Decker said, “That’s the second time you’ve screwed up talking with us, Karl. I think you need to tell us what you know, and we’ll work a deal for you. You’ll be out of here sooner than you otherwise would.”

“You think it’s that easy?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you try us?”

“I gotta think about it.”

Lancaster said, “What’s to think about? You help us, we help you.”

Stevens shook his head.

“Tell us this, did you talk to Hawkins?” asked Decker.

“I might have seen him around.”

“And might you have discussed the murders with him?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

Lancaster said, “We would, but somebody killed him.”

Stevens turned pale and looked like he might be sick. “I gotta go.” He looked at the guards. “Hey, I’m done here.”

Decker said, “It doesn’t have to be this way, Karl.”

“Yeah, it does. Now leave me the hell alone.”

As he was being led away, Lancaster said to Decker, “I screwed up. I shouldn’t have told him what happened to Hawkins.”

“I don’t think it would have mattered, Mary, but we did get one lead.”

“What?”

“The tats on Stevens’s arms were very close to the tats I saw on the shooter who killed Sally Brimmer.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

*



When they got back to Burlington, Natty met them in the detectives’ room. “What the hell happened up there?”

“What do you mean?” asked Lancaster.

“They just found Karl Stevens with a shiv in his neck. He’s dead.”





Chapter 46



DECKER, LANCASTER, AND MARS were holding a powwow in the empty dining area of the Residence Inn as the rain beat down outside in the darkness.

“Well, that tells us your theory was right, Amos,” said Lancaster. “Stevens was involved in this somehow.”

“And by talking to us, he got the death penalty,” added Mars bitterly. “I know the guy was scum, but nobody deserves that crap.”

Decker sat there, his hands in his lap, his gaze centered on a spot on the ceiling. “The shooter who killed Sally Brimmer had the same tats. There’s apparently a connection between him and Stevens.”

“Are you really sure they’re the same?” asked Lancaster.

“I got a clear look at them in the alley, and at Stevens’s back at the prison. I think Stevens knew that, because when he caught me looking, he put his arms under the table so I couldn’t see the tats anymore.”

“Membership in the same gang,” said Lancaster. “That’s certainly possible.”

“They moved quickly,” said Decker. “He was dead within two hours of our meeting him.”