Chasing The Dead

Chapter Forty

“Where’s your Camry?” Rossi asked.

Norris flinched, his eyebrows bouncing. “My Camry?”

“Yeah. The one you were driving when you rear-ended Robin a couple of weeks ago.”

Norris leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest. “That’s what this is about? Hey, I can explain. That was an accident. My fault, that’s for sure, but it was an accident. I was looking at my phone and the next thing I know, boom, she stopped in front of me and I ran into her.”

“Answer my question. Where’s your Camry?”

“Did my oldest, Donny, put you up to this? His mother is dead and he’s jerking me around to pay for the damage to her car from that parking lot fender bender even after her car was totaled in the accident when she was killed? Unbelievable! I told him I didn’t have insurance.”

“Donny has nothing to do with this, Mr. Norris. I’m going to ask you one more time, and if you don’t answer me, Detective Wheeler and I will be back to wondering why you’re refusing to cooperate with us. Where’s your Camry?”

“Refusing to cooperate? Are you kidding? I’m here, aren’t I? I didn’t call a lawyer, did I?”

“But you’re trying awfully hard not to answer what should be a very simple question, which doesn’t put you in a good light.”

Norris slid down in his chair, scratched his nose, thumped his fingers on the table again, and sat up. “Okay, okay. Somebody stole my car.”

“When?”

Norris tugged at his chin, thinking. “Last week. Must have been Wednesday night. I came out of my apartment Thursday morning and it was gone.”

“Did you file a police report?”

Norris shook his head. “No. No police report.”

“Why not?”

Norris turned away, staring at the two-way mirror, squirming in his chair. He took a deep breath. “Look, if I tell you, you gotta help me out.”

Rossi leaned forward, hoping Norris was about to confess in record-breaking time.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but you have to help yourself by telling me what happened to the car and why you need my help.”

Norris’s eyes darted back and forth from Rossi to Wheeler and back again until he slapped one hand on the table. “Shit! I knew it was a mistake to get involved with that guy. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I’m such a fucking moron!”

“What guy?”

“Richie Vigliaturo.”

Rossi sat back. “Richie the Vig? The loan shark?”

Norris scrunched his eyes and rubbed the sides of his face with both hands. “Yeah. I was broke and a friend of a friend hooked me up with Richie. He loaned me a few bucks and I gave him the title to my car as security. He said if I got behind, he’d take my car before he broke my legs.”

“And you got behind.”

“Yeah. I owed him every Monday, but I missed last Monday, so he took my car. That’s why you gotta help me out. I missed this Monday too, and I don’t want my legs broken.”

“Wait here,” Rossi said, signaling to Wheeler. “We’ll be back.”

“Hey, you think you can help me?”

“I think that if Richie repossessed your car, you’re the luckiest guy in the world.”

Rossi and Wheeler retreated to the break room, each pouring a cup of coffee.

“What do you think?” Wheeler asked.

“I think if Richie boosted the car before Robin was killed, he won’t mind telling us, and if he took it after she was killed, he’ll give it up in a heartbeat to prove he had nothing to do with her death. He’s not interested in that kind of trouble.”

“Yeah, but if he took the car last week, what are the odds he still has it this week?”

“Next to zero. I’ll give him a call.”

“What, you got him on speed dial?”

Rossi grinned. “Let’s just say he’ll take my call and leave it at that.”

“Hang on. Let’s say Richie didn’t take the car and we find it out at the airport or wherever and we can prove that it’s the car that knocked Robin off the road.”

“Then we charge Norris with first-degree murder.”

“I know, but-”

“But what?” Rossi asked.

“How did they end up out on that stretch of road? I know that Norris lives off of Barry Road, but that raises more questions than answers. Was Robin at his apartment? What was she doing there? According to the kids, their folks went out of their way to avoid each other. And if she was there, what happened? Did they have a fight and she ran out and he chased her out to the boonies? Or did Norris just happen to see her driving around his neighborhood and decide to run her off the road?” Wheeler scratched his head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right to me.”

“All we have to do is prove it was Norris’s Camry and that he was behind the wheel. How and why they ended up out there doesn’t change the fact that they did. I’m going to call Richie.”

Wheeler’s cell phone pinged with a text message before Rossi punched in Richie’s number. Wheeler opened the message and looked at Rossi.

“Don’t bother. They found the car at the airport. Take a look at this.”

He passed the phone to Rossi. Photographs of the car from all four sides were attached to the text message. The license tag matched the registration records Rossi had in his file. The front end was creased and dented, though the extent of the damage wasn’t clear from the photograph.

“I’ve got to get out there,” Wheeler said. “I don’t want anybody touching that car until I’ve gone over every inch. Then I’ll have it towed to our garage so I can see if the damage pattern fits with the damage to Robin’s car.”

“Will you be able to separate the damage from the parking lot accident from the Barry Road collision?”

“Won’t know until I get a look at it.” Wheeler’s phone pinged with another text. “Airport security says we can have a look at their video whenever we’re ready.”

“I’m like lunch meat,” Rossi said. “I’m always ready. You take the car and I’ll check out the video.”

“What about Norris?”

“Have somebody bring him a newspaper.”